My friend, the dirty old man

I have a friend who just turned 84. Shame on me for not running this on his birthday, which is one month gone.

He is probably the most interesting person I know. He is a published author of fiction, photography and a memoir; a celebrated photographer (Those famous photos in LIFE magazine? His.); and a survivor of Nazi Germany.

He once told me a profound story of his childhood at the beginning of the Holocaust, which would have made my greatest post to date, but he won’t let me blog it.

He told me, “It’s not your story.”

What can I do? He’s my most faithful reader; I’m at his mercy.

But this story is mine:

One night my poker league was over for our weekly game. The table was down to three players. Several of us were  in the kitchen area, dancing to “Shake, Shake, Shake Senora.”

Fred called me the next morning, as he usually did, to tell me a joke. I’m pretty sure it was about a matador and his balls.

Before he hung up he said, “I tell ya girl, the way you were shakin’ around that kitchen, why, if I were two years younger… .”

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4 Responses to “My friend, the dirty old man”

  1. Note to readers: « Stories O’ Mine Says:

    […] to readers: By T. My Dirty Old Man friend is confused. Maybe lots of people are confused, so I will […]

  2. Naming babies is dangerous « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] yesterday’s post, I replied to Fred’s comment asking what named he had planned if he had had a girl: Alice St. Eve. […]

  3. To Hell with keeping it clean « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] friend, the Dirty Old Man, is also an amateur stand-up comedian. He performed at my recent birthday […]

  4. Naming babies is dangerous « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] yesterday’s post, I replied to Fred‘s comment asking what name he had planned if he had had a girl: Alice St. Eve. […]

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