I'd like to introduce my friend Marv, he's the guy on the left. His actual name is Marvin Zesch , but to his friends, he's Marv. Marv is my friend Tee's Dad. I hadn't seen Marv in quite some time before this last weekend when Tee had her apartment warming.
I love Marv.
Marv is old school.
Marv is a veritable walking history book.
Marv was born and raised in Denver, but Marv spent a lot of time in Vegas in the early years. Marv knows Wayne Newton, Marv has dined with the Rat Pack, Marv thinks Joey Bishop was underrated. Marv can tell you about Vegas back before it became Disneyland, and Denver when it was still pre Oil-Boom.
And he will.
Often.
Really, he will.
Marv is explaining to Crystal how the Coors family is really the Colorado Mafia.Marv is a Mason. Don't ever make the mistake of asking how it is that a Jew can be a Mason. Well, unless you have a few hours and a bottle of good tequila. If you should ever find yourself in that position, don't bother mentioning that you really don't believe in God. He won't believe you.
Marv is explaining to David the intricacies of his Mason ring.Today is Marv's birthday. Marv is 75 years old today and still has erections that could be used as traffic bumps. Ok, I don't know if that last part is true, but when I'm 75, it would be nice if somebody wrote that about me, so Karma . . . ya know?
Happy birthday Marv. I hope there are many, many, many more.
9 comments:
I really cannot speak to either the feasibility or advisibility of Marv's reputed traffic bumps, but I honor your desire to provide him with a fitting testament.
Happy Birthday, Marv! If only we could all live to be so funny, so wise, so beloved . . .and so full of stamina.
:)
He's a gem.
Happy birthday, Marv! You truly sound like someone I'd like to spend an evening with.
*toasts to a fantastic year ahead*
Happy birthday, Marv!
We had a friend like that, Renee. It was really good for my kids to know her, too.
She didn't know about Vegas and the famous and all that, but the tales she told! For instance, she worked at Rock Island Arsenal during WWII, and one day her superiors called her in to tell her that coworker X was a German spy and that she needed to tell them everything he said to her, etc. She was truly freaked out inside from that point forward, but kept it together outwardly. She'd always wanted to fly, so at 70 she got her pilot's license. She was wise, too. At 75 she knew her faculties were fading, and she gave up flying.
All this is just to say that I know about that kind of elder vivacity.
Someday soon I really must pay serious attention to my own blog and do a tribute to her, which has been my plan since my very earliest blogging days.
I'm glad you have a Marv in your life. I know what that's like. I miss mine. (Make video tapes! We did. :)
Video!
Hadn't considered that. Great idea!
btw - celticfeminist - Happy Spring to you too!!!! Thanks!
Happy birthday, Marv! Here's to many more years and many more stories.
i adore old men like Marv. i really do!
i adore their stories, and the way they don't believe you when you say you don't believe in god...
the funny thing...my grandpa was a big time beer distributor in way (almost canada) northern michigan...and is rumored to have been the "yooper" * mafia.
*if you don't know what a "yooper" is, please google it. ;)
Happy Birthday Marv
thanks for this! my dad loved it and the comments!
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