Grandpa Garabed Vartanian, born in Aintab in the mid to late 19th Century, living in Cambridge, Massachusetts in the early to mid 20th Century, used to sing a song, a song of his creation, a song that expressed his love for his beautiful blonde, blue-eyed granddaughter:
Herkes sevsin Marta Mae, Marta herkes sevsinler!
Happy Birthday, Marta Mae!
Martha was the great heroine of my adolescence. she saved me once from drowning, the event of which i have included in a short story, and she was forever my ongoing redoubtable shield and sword in the never ending battle with the wicked witch of the west. God bless martha, otherwise known as Mertick during those moments of frolic as youngsters. in one of those moments when we were still in elementary school, she 3 years older than I, we filched all of dad's commendable stash of shot glasses and lined them up in front of us, she on one side of the breakfast nook table, i on the other. there had to be six or eight lined up as opposing festive flagons waiting to be filled and refilled. we happily complied with the bottle of root beer occupying the wall street of our refrigerator. mimicking the bar scenes in any one of the dozen westerns daily ensconced in the mind's eye of our tv and newton theater projectors, we filled the glasses in front of us in a battle of wits, to see who could hold their root beer better. as the drinking contest gained momentum, so did the sway of our bodies as they captured the mood of slow and attenuated inebriation. by the bottom of the bottle we were collapsed in a heap, on opposite sides of the table, drunker than, well, you know, john wayne. But, pardner, when you say that, smile. :) Love You Sis
ReplyDeleteThank you Peterson and Marash Girl for those wonderful memories!
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