Dad - May 15, 1922 - May 29, 2011

I was chatting with my brother Eric the other day

and I told him,

that for Dad's service,

I'd like to rise from the grave

seated at a grand piano

playing the Aria from

Bach's 

Goldberg Variations.

This stunning piece of music is 

an example of the exquisite 

thought & beauty

that my Father was so fond of.

Sadly, a piano could not be arranged in time.

Dad grew up in The Bronx

where he used to play stickball,

eat Chinese Food,

and read

Science Fiction.

Dad was a curious lad

and always had an enquiring mind.

He loved games and puzzles, 

was a wordsmith, 

and as he grew older 

his games and puzzles grew increasingly 

more complex and into complicated equations, patterns,

languages, and systems. 

Dad, until his last days,

could be seen cocking his head to the side, and seemingly,

by tapping his fingers together, or waving a hand,

or patting his chest,

was making various calculations.

Considering String Theory no doubt.

All that Dad really wanted to do

was contemplate these beautiful truths

and their variations, and to share them with 

whoever was interested.

T'was a noble pursuit.

A noble life.

Dad 

was 

a 

Thinker,

a Writer,

and a Painter...

Here are 

A Few Words My Father Lived By

"Sums are not set as a test on Erasmus."

"Drawn I sit, Serene rest is inward."

and he sometimes asked...

"Are we not drawn onward, we few drawn onward to new era?"

Or more recently, during some of his hospital stays...

this could be heard...

"Nurse, I spy gypsies. Run!"

Yes,

and with Dad's 

fondness for puzzles, patterns, and words 

it is no surprise that he enjoyed a good 

palindrome now and again.