Hey pallies, likes here's some Dino-prose that we've been holdin' onto for some time and indeed Dino-amore month is the bestest of best times to shares it with all youse Dino-holics. So, likes on this nineteenth day of Dino-amore month we takes you to the blog "McHuston Booksellers & Irish Bistro - BOOKS & IRISH FARE" where blogger Mr, Larry Loefling holds forth. The tag of the blog refers to the family book and bistro business that Loefling has "in the Tulsa, Oklahoma suburb of Broken Arrow."
Today we excerpt a portion of Mr. Loefling's tremendously touchin' reflection titled, "Music. Soothing the savage beast and all that." Larry shares how when he plays Dino-croons in his biz, it has him "immediately thinking of my Dad, the biggest Dean Martin fan I have ever known." And likes how hugely heart-touchin' is that pallies?!?!?!?
All Loefling has to do is hear our Dino's velvet voice and it immediately brings back the fondest of fond memories of his father's deep devotion to our most beloved Dino. Faithful readers of ilovedinomartin knows that this is a storyline that we have shared time after time....like father....like son. We immediately thinks of our pallies Danny G. and Ed, both who's fathers' powerfully pure passion for our most beloved Dino was potently passed on to their boypallies.
We thanks Mr. Larry Loefling for so affectionately sharin' his father's deepest of deep devotion to our Dino and how he can't hear our Dino croonin' without the warmest of warm memories floodin' in on him of his dad's devotion to Dino! Likes if you ever happen to be in the area of Broken Arrow, OK, be sure to stop in and share your Dino-delight. To checks this out in it's original format, simply clicks on the tag of this here Dino-report. Dino-yearnin', DMP
Music. Soothing the savage beast and all that.
Posted on August 3, 2013
It’s always amazing to me how our brains link things together. Since I have only the one brain, I can’t say whether my experiences are unique or universal. Things like tasting a particular food and immediately conjuring a memory.
Things like – hearing crooner Dean Martin’s voice soaring from the shop’s speakers and immediately thinking of my Dad, the biggest Dean Martin fan I have ever known. I’m guessing that – because he had it on the television and I was intrigued enough to watch with him, I remember segments like Crazy Gugenheim and Foster Brooks, the (now politically-and-socially-incorrect) lovable drunk who could not get out a complete sentence without a hiccup.
Now, I just have to hear Dean Martin singing and I can remember my Dad in his big green easy chair, watching the TV program.
Foster Brooks, the lovable drunk, lived to the age of 89. Singer and actor Dean Martin was 78 when the curtain dropped down. My father had just pushed 50.
So, I hear his music and think of him. Because we never had that time together as adults. Never spoke together as men. Always – dad and kid son.
I grew up, but he never grew old.