Written By Brett Glisson. Header Illustration Courtesy of Danielle Johnson (@dani_design04).

“C’est la vie.” That’s what my aunt, Amber, says when something unfortunate or disappointing happens.

Bad weather? C’est la vie.

Stuck in traffic? C’est la vie.

Sick on vacation? C’est la vie.

Lost a loved one? Sadly, c’est la vie.

I’d heard it repeated so many times over the years that it became my mantra as well—and, coincidentally, the title of my favorite song. I am the most anxious person I know, so these words remind me to stop trying to control the narrative.

My mother introduced me to Frank Sinatra at an early age. Most people associate his music with Christmastime, but his crooning voice fills my ears year-round. I’m likely the only person in my generation whose top genre on Spotify Wrapped is “adult standards.” The only time I seem to connect with contemporary artists is when they cover the songs of yesteryear. Thank you, Lady Gaga, for making those albums with Tony Bennett. This old soul trapped in 2025 appreciates your service.

“That’s Life” wasn’t one of the tunes my mother often played. “Summer Wind,” “Come Fly with Me,” and “The Best Is Yet to Come” claimed the spotlight. But a few years ago, I rediscovered “That’s Life” and it felt as if I was hearing it for the first time again.

I was sitting in the movie theatre watching “Joker,” and as Arthur Fleck was slowly descending into the Clown Prince of Crime, Frank Sinatra was singing, “That’s life, that’s what all the people say. You’re riding high in April, shot down in May. But I know I’m gonna change that tune. When I’m back on top, back on top in June.”

Ol’ Blue Eyes transported me right back to my childhood—sitting on the floor of my bedroom, listening to his rich, velvety voice on my mother’s JVC boombox. I left the theater with a new personality and a soon-to-be top song of the year.

There’s so much I love about “Joker”— the cinematography, score, costume design, production design, even the homage to Charlie Chaplin’s “Modern Times.” But it’s the swingin’ classics that made this film more meaningful to me.

I’ve never been confident enough to sing karaoke without a martini or two in my system. And even then, my mind went blank when I tried to think of “the perfect” song. That all changed when “That’s Life” entered the stage.

“I’ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn, and a king. I’ve been up and down and over and out, but I know one thing,” I’d sing at the top of my lungs, and spill vodka on my pants. “Each time I find myself flat on my face, I pick myself up and get back in the race,” the crowd would join in with me. Every karaoke night, my friends begged me to sing what became known as “my song.” It made me feel good to know that they associate me with this 1966 anthem of resilience.

As a firm believer in science, I’m not superstitious. But when I eventually made the connection that “c’est la vie” and “that’s life” were reflections of each other, I started to wonder if the universe was trying to tell me something. I quickly reminded myself that we Homo sapiens have evolved to seek patterns in the world around us. Coincidences exist. But that doesn’t make my mantra any less valuable. Au contraire, I understood it in a new light.

My aunt Amber’s motto stuck with me because I admired her ability to take life in stride. What I saw in her, I wanted for myself. I’ve always been a bit wound up, to the point where friends and family would have to tell me, “Don’t fret, Brett.” It didn’t feel helpful when I was younger, but now I’m starting to see they were on to something.

For many people, music is a temporary escape from the chaos of life. It’s a moment of peace in a society plagued by background noise. As much as I wish I were born in a different era, I recognize the conveniences and privileges that are afforded to me in this one. There’s a seemingly endless array of music at my fingertips. While it’s impossible for me to ever see Sinatra live on stage, I can keep him alive with a tap of the play button.

And for every c’est la vie, I remind myself: “This fine old world, it keeps spinning around.”