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An itchy Starsky and an irritated Hutch… There it was again. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Hutch sat at his kitchen table and sharply snapped his newspaper, taking a slow, deliberate sip of tea while trying to remain focused on the story he was reading and not on the constant tiny noise grating on his nerves worse than nails down a chalkboard.… -
Some general kissing. The whiskey had been a mistake. Hutch lifted his head off the pillow on Starsky’s couch and stared dizzily around the spinning room. Ring Ding and Twinkie wrappers littered the coffee table and floor, along with bags of corn chips and Doritos. Empty beer bottles were lined along the edge of the table, with a half-full bottle… -
Hutch finds a letter from Starsky. Hutch made his way straight through Starsky’s living room and into the bedroom. He was a man on a mission. Starsky needed underwear. Not just any underwear, mind you, but the soft cotton boxer shorts his mother had gotten him for Christmas about five years ago. The blue ones, not the stiff white ones… -
Starsky makes his first appearance in public after the shooting. “For God’s sake, Starsky, what are you doing in there?” Hutch, jacket slung over his arm, paced outside his partner’s bathroom door. “All right. All right, already. Jeez, hang on a second, huh? I’ll be right out.” Starsky opened the door as he stood in the mirror and ran a… -
A couple of Hutch’s old college buddies are in town for dinner. What will they think of Starsky? “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” –Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. I. The phone on Starsky’s end table clanged loudly as the hand that desperately grabbed for it accidentally… -
A painful journey home. “On a bus to St. Cloud, Minnesota… I thought I saw you there… With the snow falling down around you… Like a silent prayer.” I’d flown to California to pay my last respects to one of the greatest men I’d ever known. I hadn’t seen Captain Dobey in 15 years. I’d spoken to him over…