My earliest recollection of Rick was... I don't like this kid! I had no particular reason for feeling that way… other than the fact that he’d just hurled a rubber ball and smashed it into the side of my head from close range. It didn’t help that Rick was smiling as I walked off the court. I had no idea that this was the beginning of a life-long friendship… one that began with our common joy of competition, and to some extent in Rick’s delight in seeing me get hurt or embarrassed in some original and ultimately entertaining way. It was January 1968 and Day 1 at a new school. I’d just moved into the first neighborhood in Westlake Village, CA (the 'first neighborhood' was the first of many housing developments that now make up Westlake Village). My family had relocated from Riverside. White Oak Elementary school was still under construction and fourth grade classes were held in portable buildings located at the park next to the community center. I met Rick at recess that day playing dodge-ball (we called it socko). It was awesome fun. Rick, Bruce Rudman, and Fred Gieger were the kids to beat. They were always the last ones standing. Over the course of that semester Rick and I made the often-mysterious boy transition from rivals to friends. Thus began the childhood ritual of Rick calling me on Saturday mornings and asking the big question... the one philosophers and think-tanks kick around but can never figure out. It would go something like this: Rick - "What do you want to do?" Me - "I don't know. What do you want to do?" Now multiply those two lines by 100 and that was the general conversation. During the summer, or school breaks, Rick called almost every day. (Just as an aside - I think it worth mentioning that my sister Tina never repeated that first line when asked this question... ever! She actually had an answer. To this day I still consider this a possible clue to the mysterious and vast differences between men and women.) Part of the problem was that when Rick would call in the morning I was half asleep. Rick was an early riser, wanted to get out and see the world... to do things. I wasn't - If I was out of bed by 11am on a Saturday morning it was a news-worthy event. So a good part of Rick's precious day was wasted waiting for me to get up. I'm pretty sure this lasted well into our high school years. Come to think of it... I have no recollection of Rick taking a nap. In fact I don't remember him ever sleeping. One might speculate that if we'd met as children now (with the current TV and movie obsession with the supernatural) I might have suspected that he was, well you know... a Vampire! A lot of the criteria applied: he didn't sleep, he had supernatural athletic ability and ran like the wind, he could appear at my house literally one second after we hung up the phone, he had strikingly sharp features with large, piercing, other-worldly eyes, he laughed whenever I got hurt or bled, and he had no pigmentation. The dude was white. I guess the fact that he could be outdoors in the glorious Southern California sunshine was enough to disqualify him as a blood sucking child monster... but the sun was not kind to him. The kid burned really well. It was actually one of his talents. He was blond, blue eyed, and usually some shade of red. Anyway... that's how I met Rick. I hated him. And then we were together... pretty much all the time. At the end of 4th grade, on the last day of school, the teachers had us carry the desks and chairs out of the portables into the new buildings. Construction for White Oak Elementary school had been completed and we would be opening a brand new school as fifth graders after the summer break. I remember walking back and forth across the green grass, under blue skies and the canopy of giant oak trees... carrying stuff and talking with Rick about what we were going to be doing over the summer. Back then Westlake Village was a wonderland for kids. Note: Rick recently reminded me that he and I, and the rest of the First Neighborhood 4th graders, actually christened two brand news schools... White Oak Elementary as fifth graders and then as 6th graders we went on to open the brand new middle school in Lindero Canyon. (This is the first in a series of stories about Rick for his children David and Gaby.)