David was one of my best friends. Through most of the 1990s, we were in a band together, the Don't Quit Your Day Job Players. He wrote a Silver Surfer short story for me when I worked for Byron Preiss, Marina and I hosted his ordination party after he was made a rabbi, we attended numerous conventions and went on the road for concerts together. We recorded two CDs together, and he used our work together on another CD after the band split up. We played live together more times than I can count, before, during, and after the band's heyday. He consulted on the first-ever Klingon-Jewish wedding, in the story "Creative Couplings," a Star Trek: Starfleet Corps of Engineers novella by Glenn Hauman & Aaron Rosenberg that I edited.
He was my rabbi, which is a weird thing for non-Jewish agnostic to say, but there it is. He and his wife, who is a priest (yes, really), held a wonderful little gathering a few days after 11 September 2001 that was a big help in our healing process.
It's sobering to realize that I'm roughly the same age now that David was when he died, which is scary.
Tomorrow, Wrenn and I are going to go to his grave and raise a glass to his memory. Wrenn and I didn't get together until after he died, and I was always particularly sorry for that, as he knew Wrenn also, and I'm fairly certain he would have been very happy to see us as a couple. I wish he was still here for any number of reasons, not least being that we would have asked him to perform our wedding.
We miss you, Rabbi.