One more for my dad. Because I wasn’t there at the end for him. I have to live with that. I had to be selfish. I was homeless. I had no choice. I wasn’t there at the end for my mother, either. Such is the irony of life; I spent decades trying to help them and impress them and then, at the end…I wasn’t there. Or was I? Was I on the screen instead of Ben Vereen, dad?
I’d like to think I was. So, one more time, Gerald, and remember: Jazz hands, okay?
P.S. Ben Vereen was an enormous talent who died far, far too early.
