My friendship with David began in the spring of 1992.
Our first encounter was outside the Warner Bros. casting office in Burbank. I was about to screen test for KFTLC. It was 9:30 am . David stood leaning against
the courtyard wall, his requisite English Oval smouldering,looking like a character out of a Sergio Leone western. "Hey man. No worries", he said.
We hit it off immediately.

We auditioned together for an arsenal of WB execs. I was dismissed and lied down on the floor of casting director John Levy's office.
Time passed. David emerged from the room, stood over me kicked me in the ribs and said "You got it - let's celebrate. Do you drink?" We headed over to El
Torito on Pass Ave. Drank hard til 2:00 pm. Became brothers.

We were to play father and son but in reality were more like partners in crime, loyal friends, Butch and Sundance.
"You got a car? "he asked. Ya - a rental I said. "Good I'll take you to my ranch" - his home in La Tuna Canyon.
In hindsight, I suppose this could be looked at as a metaphor for our relationship to come -" If you are willing to get in the car with me and go on this trip, I'll ride shotgun and always have your back". I leapt into the driver's seat.

By the end of that day, I had witnessed his ex-wive get kicked by a horse, drank almost a half a gallon of vodka, a bucket full of Bud, witnessed him strip down to his famous green speedo (to relax) , while explaining the story of his life as told by the complex, colorful tattoos that covered his lanky frame, (long before tattoos became open season). I'd been given a tour of the nude oil paintings of his mother ,painted by his uncle, played guitar and piano, sang, danced, and was introduced to an ex-con Vietnam vet friend just released from prison. Finally, I charged bare back across a rocky paddock atop his horse Captain whom David had slapped hard across the ass the moment mine hit the horses back - the final test . I passed and was released back into my world.
And that was just our first day together. We spent 14 hours a day together for the next five years.

David loved his life, his children, his grand-children, his friends. His happiest times seemed to be with Annie. He worshipped, worried for and protected his brothers. He held a special place in his heart for Bobby.

Dave, you were a man's man. An uber male. A zen master. A humanist. You were bullet proof. "Twenty-four arrests, no convictions".
You had the constitution of ten men. You could be a bad mother-fucker. Deeply intelligent, incredibly talented and fiercely loyal. Fearless.

We spoke this past Saturday. I was in Alberta, you were in Bangkok. Just our regular two week catch-up. "Love you man. See you soon".
I'm so glad I actually got to say those words. I'm so glad we got to say the word GOODBYE.

Thanks for the ride " Pop".