February was the worst month of my life...as it almost cost me mine. The theft of my car made me learn to tie or at least try to tie my shoes -- at last! Also I met the best buddy anyone could have until he almost died a few doors down from me.
Robert Dent's fourth floor apartment cooled off in the late afternoon as ocean breezes danced over his Michigan University mementos. His daughter and then-wife heard me play the piano and invited me to meet Dr. Dent. I dare say I played a dam good piano then and even better now.
"We love your music and believe you have the right tonic my Dad needs. His own dad played the piano and we would love it if you came down to our room, 420 to meet him," so said Diana.
It felt good to be drafted by two good looking girls, and not having a car now, who could not accept their invitation. I knocked on the door and was greeted by the older one, I guess his wife. He was busy inside the bedroom looking for clothes to wear over his tight fitting underwear.
"George...your hair is a mess. Sit down and allow me to give you a cut." His wife, a hair stylist, cut and trimmed my hair, and I knew that her hands were magic. She gave me a mirror and I couldn't believe how good I looked, of course with my mouth shut."
I will never forget his warm greeting and Santa Claus smile -- too bad that all Santa's don't have his smile. A bottle of vodka was on the kitchen table along with miniature Milky Way bars. A Michigan blanket covered a sofa chair, along with a year book and various frames that extolled his virtues as a first rate dentist with a degree at Michigan University.
"You too look like two birds of a feather," or something like that while the flew the coop and I was stuck with Dr. Dent. He was a bit tipsy but I promised to take him to Mario's across the street for some Mexican food.
We ordered the $9.00 special with tacos and enchiladas. He spoke about how he had been planted there by his wife. He dressed with the bright colors of a pro golfer and his hair was a neatly groomed grey. His beard was trimmed and could not stop talking.
He had lived in Malibu in a house by the old Getty building by the palisades area. He had been a dentist at the veterans building and also a professor at U.S.C.'s dental school. It appeared that Robert Dent and his wife had split up.
We walked across Main in the direction of Mario's in the Five Points Center. He asked to pay the bill but his credit card was not good, so I paid for the Meal that included a Martini. From that first night until recently, he became my best friend. We played billiards, ate, and enjoyed becoming my soul mate.
Dent's Dad was a pool shark inside his home town in Pennsylvania. In fact he made "More money playing billiards than as a supervisor for the phone company -- and get this, he never allowed me to win any game at billiards.
But as a kid, nobody had a finer mother. She helped him with his his homework and punished him only once for using foul language. His Dad played a mean piano -- like me so it was fate we met over a piano at the Five Points Senior Apartments.
To make ends meet, he caddied and got so good at it, that a golfer awarded him a scholarship to Michigan University. His Mom also wrote his graduation address at commencement -- so good in fact his Dad for the first time gave applauded him and asked him how he learned to speak well.
Oh yes, he married his high school girl sweetheart
He was third in the Universities dental school and again gave the commencement address. After graduation he worked in a dental office before heading to New Mexico as an army officer. He was an outstanding dentist there and took more classes.
It was his Santa Claus smile and blue eyes that drew me to him at first. He didn't like the idea that I refused to drink with him but Vodka and I love life the way God created it.
His fourth floor apartment had a huge T.V. where he watched detective series' most of the time and used Vodka and juice to eat. The room held many awards and mementos with a Michigan logo and of course a set of gold clubs.
"George I am so sorry I can't offer you anything to drink...What do you say that we run across the street to Java and have a tuna." Across Main Street was the JAVA COFFEE SHOP. Nary any lady was safe within arms reach as he would quip, "My you have gorgeous legs or give them his East Coast whistle."
And then the bad news hit me while playing the piano on the fourth floor. His daughter told me that the apartment threw him out for noise even though his bouts with blackouts and other issues became less and less...Through an altercation with his daughter he came a millimeter from death by a knife and I have not seem or have heard of him since.
He taught me to commend the ladies for their attire or simply good looks. He would walk up to any lady and compliment her on the spot -- something I have learned to do.
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