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Post-“The Plague” Is Starsky helping or hindering Hutch’s recovery? (Weak stomach warning: Contains Revolting, Disgusting, Sickeningly Gruesome, Dreadfully Unpleasant and Awfully Awful descriptions of 12th century bubonic plague conditions) “You know, you’re really lucky.” Starsky smiled impishly down at his partner who was feebly punching at his compacted pillow. Hutch, pale and weak, said around a rattling cough, “How you… -
A son says goodbye to a father whose heart he could not know. Thank you for coming to this memorial service for my father, David Michael Starsky. In case you don’t know me, I’m Ken Starsky, his only child. As I look around, I see mostly people I don’t know. So you have likely come here out of a sense… -
Hutch is there for Starsky–sort of–as Starsky frantically tries to meet an important deadline. “And do not point that thing at me!” shouted Starsky. “What thing?” yelled Hutch. Starsky slapped at Hutch’s raised right index finger. “Your goddam Hutch Finger!” he bellowed. “You’re damn lucky I don’t point my Magnum at you!” roared Hutch. “H-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-TCH!” Hutch came running into the room, tripping…