The 21st anniversary of my dear father’s passing. I have been thinking a lot about him over the past year. Mostly who we were together on any given day at our house in the Palisades. That house, now one of the many homes in that area that were lost in the devastating Palisades fire. Our family sold that home many years ago. Recently, I’ve been thinking hard to recall the deeper memories that occurred in that house, the average every day life things between my father and I. It takes some work to focus and really drill down into the emotional bedrock of life experiences that over time tend to fade and eventually become harder to remember. I have been taking time each night before bed to run a reboot of the past, when I was a kid. It is fascinating to know that I can slowly unlock the things I had practically forgotten. Old memories do come back if you allow your mind to wander and paint freely. I have been doing a lot of this type of experimenting lately because the older I get, the more important it is to not lose the valuable home movies in my head. We all have them and we can all do this. I have managed to rebuild the house I was raised in. It’s pretty easy because it is such an early deeply rooted and meaningful time period for me. I close my eyes and imagine walking down the street. It’s like a virtual 360 degree video game. If you think hard enough you can fill in the entire neighborhood from that time. In 1970 I was five. That’s where I started. From the street I can see down our steep driveway with the two cars my mom and dad had at that time. I make my way to the front door and open it. I begin to paint in the entire front entrance and the bedroom hallway on the left. Then to the right, I take a few steps down leading into our living room. To the right of that is our dining room, and beyond that room is our kitchen. As I enter each room the memories begin flowing back to life. I can now see flashes of my mother and father, but it starts with hearing my dad’s voice echoing from another room. I proceed through the rest of the house and I can see him as he was in his 50s. Now that I have him at that age range, it triggers thoughts as to what he was doing with his career at that time. I immediately begin thinking about the McDonald’s commercials he would direct. I was with him for nearly 10 years of the creation of those classic McDonaldland TV spots. I have so many memories of him in that sound stage, working with everyone. He had a personal friendship with everyone on the crew, and he adored the cast. As I continue my journey into visualization of the past, I am getting better at re-creating those images, those situations, and all the details. I can see the entire cast and crew working so tightly together along with the man who created Ernest T Bass. It’s quite a sight to see him when he was so young, and so vibrant as opposed to what I last remember him as, in real life, on the last day of his life. 21 years ago today. May 21, 2005.
You and I are still together. I will always love you. Your forever loyal and loving son, David
















Thanks so much for your eloquent sharing of your memories. We are contemporaries … I’m 64 and believe I can easily relate to your experiences of your homelife in 1970.
It’s funny, I JUST watched Nutty Professor the other night. Your dad was easily my favorite character. I will always remember being 10 yrs. old and seeing the movie on a saturday in our school gym. I vividly remember 3 scenes that made me laugh right out of my seat. When Jerry Lewis is walking and his feet are squeaking; him using the exercise equipment, and of course your dad putting the empty fork up to his mouth at the dinner table! His whole performance as Kelp’s dad should be taught in acting school. “The artificial son of a lizard!”
Best to you and your family and have a good Memorial Day.
That’s great to hear! I love Jerry Lewis in that movie. He split and balanced the real Jerry Lewis with the crazy Jerry Lewis. And yes, I loved my father in that as well!
Thank you so much for the comment,
All my best wishes, David M.
Wow. What a beautiful memory. I’m so grateful to receive a remembrance each year. Thank you most kindly for taking the time to write and share about his life. He was always my favorite and never failed to crack me up. God Bless You and Yours
Kind regards,
B.
Thank you for this.
He was family to all of us.
David M.
You continue to write these tributes year after year. I’m thankful you do this. I lost my mom last year and never want to let her go. She always directed her class reunion in part by doing the decorations. It looked awesome last June and she was so proud. I took over one hundred photos to compile an album for her. We didn’t know she was ill and that in a few weeks she would be gone. I performed that night as Ernest T and she loved it. So with that said, the memory of your dad made my mother smile. Life is a very short journey and one we cherish as we also climb the ladder of time. Thank you sir.