Pat Cooney

Pat Cooney

I came across this picture of Pat Cooney, who was my father's friend and colleague.

Pat had a wonderful sense of humor and playfulness -- I enjoyed being around him and am fortunate to have grown up knowing him.  I believe we were kindred spirits.

I was about five years old and living in Phoenix with my father, mother and three brothers when I first met Pat.  I believe my dad and Pat were working at the same radio station. 

After moving to L.A. in 1955, my father and Pat collaborated on producing a number of television programs aired in  Los Angeles, as well as a travelogue that reached national syndication.  They were a creative team.

Pat, his wife MaryAnn and daughter Linda, my father and two of my brothers and I drove down to Mexico in 1956. We went to the bullfights in Tijuana, and took a crazy midnight drive on a winding, mountainous and unfamiliar road to Ensenada.


As a bottle of Tequila was passed around in the dark, we sang:

Piss onya, piss onya
When I say piss onya
Piss onya



Dinner in Ensenada.

In 1963, I was living with my father, stepmother and twin brother in Carmel, California, and Pat and his family stayed with us for a part of the summer.

Here's Pat and my dad mugging for my camera. Notice Pat's Cuban cigar. 

Pat was drawing unemployment that summer, and he'd go to the Department of Employment in Monterey in his "tennis togs", as he called them, after a few sets in Pebble Beach.  What a laugh.

Pat and family soon moved into a small board and batten cottage a few blocks from the beach called the Merry Oaks.

In Pat's carefree way, he'd sing a little tune, which we all enjoyed:


Life is fun and full of jokes
when you live in the Merry Oaks!