Monthly Archives: January 2018

At my father’s memorial gathering, I was struck by the view of the moon over the apartment building next door from the Young family home.

From Hamlet Act I scene ii: “‘Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father; But you must know, your father lost a father; That father lost, lost his, and the survivors bound … Continue reading →

At the end of the Young family memorial gathering for my father, my Aunt Barbara, Uncle Jonathan, Aunt Andrea and her husband got up to play & sing this song.  They said that “My Little Buckaroo” was a lullabye that … Continue reading →

Per my father’s wishes.  A beautiful spot, in view of the Hollywood sign and, in the other direction, looking out across L.A. to the Pacific. The family wore Aloha shirts in homage to him.  Just for the day, I wore … Continue reading →

These were the books that were by my father’s reading chair when he passed away. These were the books he was in the middle of.

When I was very, very little, my family loved to go to some long lost Mexican restaurant that had a jukebox.  My favorite song on that jukebox was Natalie Cole’s “This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)”.  My father bought a … Continue reading →

My father vacillated between being ruthlessly, obsessively organized and lazy.  We found carefully labelled boxes containing tax returns, every single utility bill, every single credit card receipt, and two inch stacks of to-do lists for each of the last ten … Continue reading →

My grandfather owned a printing company on Highland in Hollywood.  Because of this, the Young family knows odd pits of old school printing arcana.  “Padding compound” is a liquid which dries into a rubbery adhesive which is used at the … Continue reading →