IRVING GLICKMAN
Back in the days when I lived in New York, it was a rainy day and I needed a taxi. As luck would have it, I saw a cab and he saw me, so I was successful at my first attempt. A very fortunate coincidence. I got into the taxi, and the cabbie says, “Great timing! You’re just like Irving.”
Me: I said, “Pardon me! “Who?”
Cabbie: “Irving Glickman. There’s a guy who was Mr. Perfect; he did everything right.”
Me: “Nobody is perfect. There are always a few clouds over everyone.”
Cabbie: “Clouds didn’t even get close to Irving. He was a terrific athlete. He could have gone on the pro tour in tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang opera like Pavarotti, danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the saxophone; just like Kenny G.”
Me: “Sounds like he was something, huh?”
Cabbie: “He had a memory like a computer. Could remember everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me.”
Me: “Yeah, I know what you mean. I change a fuse, and the whole neighborhood blacks out.” That Irving sounds like quite a guy!”
Cabbie: “And he knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good and never answer her back, even if she was in the wrong — and his clothing was always immaculate, neat and he even ironed his own shirts.”
Me: “An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?”
Cabbie: “Well, I never actually met Irving.”
Me: “Then how do you know so much about him?”
Cabbie: “I married his widow.”
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You’re currently reading “IRVING GLICKMAN,” an entry on Harvey Tobkes.
- Published:
- 01.30.08 7:06
- Category:
- Humor
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