Tomorrow, 10:00am PST Funeral

Here is what I'm reading. I'm not happy with it but I've reworked it so many times I could pull my hair out so enough, is, enough. (It's written out in bullets with comma's for spacing, etc. so it's easier for me to read.)

Here goes, see you in a couple of days:

My father was unique, complex and his memory will never be erased from my mind. I love, adore and admire him.

In many ways, he was my role model.

It’s only become apparent to me in the past two weeks, after talking to many who knew my dad, that he didn’t talk much of his rather remarkable life.

Many did not know my dad had a 40-year career in radio and television and was a talented and gifted photographer, actor, vocalist, producer, and director.

In his career my dad worked with and interviewed people such as John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, Gore Vidal, Timothy Leary, Frank Zappa, Alfred Hitchcock and rock and roll groups like the Monkee's and even the Beatles.

Dad even pioneered the satellite architecture that was responsible for the Live Aid Concert in 1985...

And later was also instrumental in Farm Aid I and II, and the live broadcast of Comic Relief.

While lots of kids have the opportunity to occasionally go to work with their dad, not many dads worked at a television studio filled with celebrities.

My dad never missed an opportunity to take me out of school and take me to work with him when someone particularly famous was going to be in the studio.

When I was in 6th grade the Beatles had come to Boston on a world tour and dad took me along when he went to their hotel room to get an interview.

Now remember, this is at a time when just a photograph of “A Beatle” would make young girls scream and grown women faint.

Just to touch or meet someone who met a Beatle, was almost more than a young fans heart could take.

I remember everything about that day from exactly what I wore to what I ate for breakfast and from the moment my dad pinned a Press Pass on me, people began to scream and grab at us.

Dad was pulling me through this huge, overwhelming crowd, never letting go of my hand for a second, least I be swallowed up in a vast sea of screaming fans.

Every once in a while he would look back at me, smile this big grin and wink.

I could tell from the look on his face…..

…what was exciting to my Dad was not meeting the Beatles…

…what was exciting to him was taking ME to meet the Beatles.

Another thing I’ll bet many of you don’t know is my dad LOVED Science Fiction. One of my favorite memories as a young child is my dad letting me stay up very late on Friday nights to watch Creature Features with him. I will never watch a movie with Martians, aliens or haunted houses in it without thinking of Friday nights up late with my dad and a big bowl of popcorn.

When we lived in Boston my dad built a sailboat in the garage and on a little lake in Holliston, Massachusetts, taught me to sail. Well, actually he first taught me how to swim as our initial adventure ended up in a capsized boat and a rescue, but later in life I shared that love of sailing and the love of water with my kids as we sailed to just about every island in the Caribbean.

My dad was not only a gifted performer, earning the lead role in just about every community theater play and musical he ever tried out for, he was also the greatest audience a performer could ever want. He wasn’t an “easy audience” but if you were “good” he let you know it.

The very first time I performed stand-up comedy was at Igby’s, in West Los Angeles.

I was so nervous before I went on that night but it wasn’t the performance or the standing room only crowd I was so nervous about.

What I was really nervous about was, “Will I be able to make my dad laugh?”

Although I knew beforehand he would be in the audience I had no idea of where he was sitting until I told my first joke.

Not only did I instantly know where my Dad was sitting from his distinctive laugh, I knew I was a success. I couldn’t fail.

His laugh was leading the crowd and when he laughed, everyone laughed.

He was the greatest audience a comedian could ever want.

I’ve thought a lot these past two weeks about what I’ll miss the most about him and the list is far too long to recite..

The thought that I’ll never again hear my dad say “Honey, I’m proud of you” is almost unbearable.

But for now, the memories must endure.

Most of us, perhaps all of us, have our own heroes, champions, our own personal hall of fame. I do, and at the top of my list is my dad.

My hero wasn’t perfect.

He was not a saint.

He wasn’t there to pick me up every time I fell

He didn’t soothe me every time I hurt and he was sometimes missing when my life was falling apart.

But, the time came when we realized we were not the past and I knew in my heart how much he really cared.

Good-bye for now. I miss you more than I can put into words.

You will be remembered and loved, always and forever.

Take care Dad,

God Bless you

We’ll be in touch soon.