This is sad news. Merv Griffin has died at age 82.
I grew up watching his talk show, and it was always fun when someone like Zsa Zsa Gabor or Truman Capote showed up.
My wife worked for a private jet company in the early 1990s that catered to Hollywood's elite. The company, located at the Burbank airport, sold jets and serviced those of various celebs. Arnold Schwarzenegger had a Gulfstream housed in their hangar, as did Tom Cruise. Merv’s private jet, a Challenger, I believe, was serviced at the company and he flew out of Burbank frequently.
My wife got friendly with some of Merv's "people," and even met the man once. The jet company was throwing a Christmas party, and my wife asked Merv if he was planning to attend. He waited a beat, then flashed that impish Merv smile and said, "Oh, nooo," as if he'd just been offered a fresh turd sandwich. Made perfect sense, of course. Why would Merv the billionaire celebrity want to attend some piddly little party? It would be like your car mechanic asking if you wanted to attend the JiffyLube Christmas gala.
Goodnight, Merv. Say hello to Miss Miller for us.