A Mind of His Own

Jory with his Kindergarten teachers

Jory was born with a mind of his own.  When he decided upon something, it became a hardened statute.  He loved acquiring knowledge, but the traditional education system wasn't designed for a free spirit who refused to do homework.  Starting in kindergarten, he greeted every teacher with a smile and explained, "I'll be good in your class.  I won't cause trouble and I'll do what you ask.  During class time, I'm yours, but when the bell rings, it's my time and I do what I want."

First Day of First Grade

Teachers usually started by not taking him seriously because the homework they assigned was minimal and he got it done at school. . . sort of.  He entered first grade already reading fluently on a third grade level.  Mrs. Unland, his teacher, suggested that we skip him into second grade, but we objected.  He could read, but socially, he was an immature little boy with limited small motor skills, who couldn't sit still, was easily distracted, and was into everything.  Besides, he hadn't mastered holding a pencil, yet, and didn't know how to write.  We bargained with the school and reached a compromise.  Jory would remain in first grade, but would go into the second grade class each day for language arts.

2nd. Grade Spelling Book Page

He loved the second grade teacher, a silver haired grandmotherly type, who fell in love with his curly blond hair, huge smile, and enthusiasm.  She started right off with spelling.  The first word he learned to spell was incredible because Mrs. Winter said that he was an incredible kid.  He came home that day and proudly knew how to spell it.  

Of course, she also issued him a standard second grade spelling workbook.  He consistently aced the weekly tests, but never filled out a page in that workbook.  Mrs. Winter didn't find out until the end of the year when Jory made a tactical mistake.  He told the girl sitting next to him that she was stupid for wasting time with that spelling book because the teacher never checked it.  The girl told the teacher and Mrs. Winter called us.  He was busted!  From then on, I volunteered each year to correct homework for his teachers.  Years later, with his omnipresent Sharpie, he wrote incredible on every wall at CalArts.  In addition, he always used impeccable spelling and grammar, expecting others to do the same.  Of course, he always spelled his liberal uncensored words correctly, as well.

Third grade began the GATE (Gifted & Talented Education) Program and Jory was assigned to Mrs. Lyday's class with all the other identified GATE kids.  Competition was strong among the students, but Jory wasn't competitive.  He did his own thing and was happy to let others do theirs.  Mrs. Lyday was the most creative and permissive of all teachers, making allowances for her special kids.  But, one evening she called us with great frustration.

President Report on Abe Lincoln Pre-empted by Stamp Collection

"Today the President Reports were due.  Yesterday, I reminded Jory at the end of the day that he needed to turn in his report this morning.  He did not!"

"He was busy in his room all last night," I said.  "Did he say why he didn't turn it in?" 

"He said he was working on his stamp collection." 

I immediately went into Jory's room and asked the question, to which he replied with honest sincerity, "I told Mrs. Lyday that I was going to work on my stamp collection and I wouldn't have time for the President Report."

In seventh grade, he was in a turmoil over his older brother's hazing at the US Air Force Academy.  He didn't say anything to anyone, but decided to protest silently by not doing his math homework.  The school year went by and all seemed well until we received a letter from the junior high school that Jory was failing Math.  Furious with the school, I called the administration office and demanded to know why we had not been notified sooner.

"Mrs. Prum, we have sent you a notice every 6 weeks," replied the counselor.

I was aghast, but I waited, not so calmly, for Jory to return home from school.  "Jory," I asked, "has there been any mail delivered to this house that I have not seen?"

Unopened Progress Reports from School

"Uh-huh," he replied.

"May I see it?"

Jory marched to his room and returned with a stack of unopened letters from Parks Junior High School, which he placed in my hands.  I didn't know whether to punish him for intercepting his progress reports or laugh at him for being so naive as to keep them as evidence.  Just like his spelling tests in first grade, he had actually passed all the math tests with good grades, but never turned in any of the homework assignments.  In the end, he struck a bargain with the teacher and wound up passing the class.

High school was no different.  When a homework assignment was written on the board, he completed it during class time and turned it in the next day.  If he was assigned a project to do at home, we rarely knew about it until it was too late.  During his junior year, he had a long term science project assignment, which he told us about.  We prompted him to work on it throughout the month.  The final weekend, we nagged and insisted that he complete the project.  Sunday night he had finally assembled all the written work and graphics.  It was midnight and Jory was not only dragging but nodding off mid-sentence.  We sent him to bed and Sam and I finished the placing and gluing of his data and conclusions onto a 3-fold presentation board.  It was 2 AM, the project looked fantastic. Both Sam and I were exhausted,  and had to get up for work in 4 hours.  

Troy High School

The next morning, I drove Jory and his project to school.  As I watched him disappear into the buildings, I had a feeling of great satisfaction to compensate for my lack of sleep.  He was finally turning in a major project on time.  All day I basked in the glow of knowing that he was sort of maturing and acquiring some rudimentary organization and time management skills.  When I picked him up after school, I was excited to hear how his day went.

"Did you turn your project in?"  I asked.

"Yep," he responded.

"Didn't you feel terrific today when you turned it in on time?" I asked, expecting a positive response.

"Well," he hesitated, "it was due a week ago."

Another incident involved the history teacher, Mr. Weiner, whom Jory considered to be the oldest and most boring member of the faculty at Troy High School.  He spoke in a monotone, lacking enthusiasm and interest, having repeated the same lessons year after year.  He called our home regularly, complaining that Jory had not turned in homework.  It almost became a family joke when the phone rang during dinner, that it had to be Mr. Weiner again.  

Well, final grades came out and Jory's report card arrived in the mail.  We watched him open it with trepidation, hoping once again that all that missed homework had not brought him a failing grade.  With delight, Jory began dancing around the kitchen, waving the report card in the air. 

Infamous Report Card

"I got an A!" he rejoiced.

"Really?" we all exclaimed in surprise.  "Let's see that."  Sure enough, there was an A printed alongside US History.

"How did you do that?" we asked.

"I don't know.  Mr. Weiner must have made a mistake when he copied my grade from his grade book . . . or maybe I Aced the final.  It was easy."

We accepted the last part of his answer.  Deciding that we had all earned that A for having to put up with Jory and every teacher throughout his years in school.  We never asked the school to investigate.  

The four years at CalArts (California Institute of the Arts) were a relief.  Instructors did not call at dinner time and we never saw a report card.  Jory seemed to be in his element and flourishing.  Graduation was soon approaching and we felt some concern, but the administration assured us that CalArts students were not allowed to march in the graduation ceremony unless all their work was completed and there were no incomplete grades outstanding.  

We arrived at graduation with great expectations and joy.  The graduation area was outdoors, set with rows of white wooden folding chairs, facing a beautiful platform and backdrop constructed especially for the occasion.  A woman was placing a program on each chair.  In the distance I saw Jory approaching.  He was wearing a multi-colored psychedelic shirt, shiny turquoise leisure pants, and hot pink ladies high heels.  His long hair was sprayed purple and ratted out to increase the circumference of his head a good 24 inches.  

"Sam, look at that weirdo," I said, pointing at Jory.

"Excuse me, Madam." interjected the woman with the programs, "That is a CalArts graduate, not a weirdo."

"I'm sorry," I replied, "that weirdo is our son!"

Jory had failed to tell us that CalArts graduations were not traditional.  In fact, each graduate was expected to make a unique artistic statement.  Soon other graduates appeared, all attired as if attending a great masquerade party.  There was one who had constructed a wooden litter for himself, hoisted upon the shoulders of 8 bare chested men wearing sarongs.  A second was a tall thin guy wearing a mini-dress, knee-high Go Go boots, and a wig of surfer style blond hair.  Another was dressed in African attire and accompanied by an entire percussion ensemble wearing matching costumes.  Jory's friend Vincent was escorted by two of his bikini clad clients in stilettos who had hired him to design their porn websites.   

Jory making his artistic statement at CalArts Graduation

When each name was called, the appropriate CalArts graduate took his time making a grand entrance onto the podium to shake President Steve Lavine's hand and receive a diploma.  Jory marched up, followed by two undergrads carrying a full size wooden, official handicapped stencil generally used for marking restricted spaces in parking lots.  The stencil was held against the backdrop as Jory proceeded to spray paint a regulation blue handicapped logo on it.  The helpers left the podium, Jory handed President Lavine the can of spray paint, shook his other hand, and walked away with  his diploma.  

Bubbles to celebrate CalArts graduation

After the ceremony, the grads celebrated with their friends and families.  Jory contributed to the celebration by providing bubbles.  He and the Go Go dancer guy were photographed by the local newspaper reporter and made the front page of the Santa Clarita Daily News.  

When Jory came to join us, Sam and I each had a question to ask him. 

“Jory, where did that handicapped stencil come from?” I asked.

“It's been in your garage for the past couple of years," he answered.

“How did it get there?” I followed up.

Handicapped Parking Stencil

“I found it at CalArts after the earthquake.  After we used it to paint all the parking spaces in the faculty lot as handicapped, I put it in your garage for safe keeping.”

“Never mind,” interrupted Sam.   “The real question is when will you be receiving your diploma?”

“Well," he began, "not for awhile.  I still have three incomplete classes, but it's not all my fault."

We couldn't believe it!  Once again he was being Jory!  In the midst of all the revelry, Jory had somehow managed to squeeze under the radar unnoticed.

"Well," said Sam trying to control his anger and disappointment, "that new Mac that we promised you for graduation won't appear until after your diploma does."

"Just a minute," responded Jory, as he disappeared into the crowd. "I have to catch one of my instructors."

A few minutes later he returned with a huge grin.  "That's taken care of," he said.  "Now I have only two incompletes."

Apple's
First Attempt at a Hand-Held Computer

"What did you do?" we asked.

"I offered the instructor a complete set of type written notes of his class lectures in exchange for the paper that I didn't write.  He accepted and now I'm going into the building to print them from my Newton so that he can have them before he leaves today."  

Jory, being techie from birth and having almost illegible handwriting, had acquired one of the first handheld computers with a portable keyboard, called a Newton, which accompanied him everywhere by hanging from his belt in a leather holster.  He had started using it to take class notes in high school and really became proficient during his college classes.  With one press of the print button, all his class notes were ready to turn in.

"What are the other classes you haven't completed?" we asked.

"One is almost done and the other one isn't my fault.  I never got to finish my oboe lessons with the oboist from the LA Phil because the orchestra went on tour and she wasn't available."

Jory being Jory, he negotiated with the two remaining instructors and was able to barter alternatives for the remaining work.  After his official diploma arrived, so did his new Mac.

Jory's Well Deserved College Diploma

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum  January 29, 2009
In elementary school, I was a terrible student. I was bored much of the time and didn't do my homework, sometimes giving reasons such as, "I had to work on my stamp collection." In order to get me to shape up, my folks often threatened to send me to military school. What actually worked better was rewards, such as a basketball hoop being installed on the garage if I got a B average. 

Dee 

Incredible person  with  incredible  parents.

Loretta 

Thanks so much for the special remembrances of Jory.  I feel as though I know him - what wonderful parents and friends you were to him.

Molly 

What a special character!! I never knew all these details about Jory as a boy! He was definitely a one of a kind guy. I wish I could talk to him now about what made him tick.

I did, however, know the enthusiastic, happy Jory. It must have been hard and entertaining to be his parents!  Thanks for sharing your beautiful writings! Love reading them.

Freea

That's our Jory! He had his own pioneering way of doing everything and it always worked! Thanks for these shares. So greatly appreciated.

Gina 

Love this story!

Elaine

Once again your writing has mesmerized me. I just couldn’t stop reading about the amazing Jory. I would have been so frustrated with a son like Jory but you and Sam were the kind of parents, though challenged by Jory, knew how best to parent him so that his creativity and brilliant mind would not be crushed.  May his memory and your sharing of his special life continue to serve as a blessing.

Vivi

It’s nice to read about Jory.

Barbara 

Just finished reading  about Jory and his free spirit. You are a wonderful writer and he is an amazing guy.  The stunts he pulled were amazing.  Very creative.

Judy

Again I enjoyed your blog about Jory.  I really believed that homework after school for the “gifted kids” especially was not necessary.  I decided to let the girls have free time to play and “imagine”.  Finally in 4th and 5th grades they became interested in horses.  We bought them each a horse as there were stables nearby.  My younger daughter got “A”s on tests in Math and “F” in homework, so I  talked to her teacher, and assured him that since he thought it was so important, I would be sure she did her homework.  I asked him to write down the week’s homework, and I would check it off if it was finished.  He didn’t much like the extra work, but agreed to it.  After about two weeks of this, Liz said that she knew she had to do her homework, so I could stop checking on it for her.  That was the end of that.—back to the stables and the horses.

Linda

We just love these Jory stories.

©   Leslye J. Prum   2017    All Rights Reserved.

Golden Ears

Jory and Big Brother Darren

Singing was like breathing for Jory.  He came home from the hospital to a 5-year-old big brother and parents who sang songs to him from our childhoods.  I sang to him in English and Sam in Spanish.  Darren joined in with songs he was learning in pre-school.  We sang lullabies, nursery rhymes, pop songs from the 1940’s that our mothers sang to us, including songs and commercial jingles from our childhoods that we had heard on the radio or watched on early TV shows. 

As Jory learned to talk, he began to sing.  He sang all the songs from Sesame Street, but his favorites were “Rubber Duckie” and “C is for Cookie.”  When he watched The Electric Company with Darren, he sang songs about Silent e and Long u.  As he listened to the radio in the car, he learned to sing the theme song from Star Wars and “Plop! Plop!  Fizz!  Fizz!  Oh, what a relief it is!” the catchy Alka-Seltzer jingle.  He sang his way through pre-school and always hummed and sang through meals.  In elementary school, his favorite days were those when they learned new songs.  Jory always sang on key and absorbed the melodies by osmosis.

He hummed when he was eating, especially if it was one of his favorite foods.  He sang when he was building with Lego.  He sang on the toilet, and in the bathtub and shower.  He sang in the car.  He sang along with the background music in supermarkets, restaurants, and elevators that nobody else seemed to notice.  If others were also singing, he harmonized.  We simply accepted his singing as Jory being Jory.

8 Year Old Jory

One afternoon, our family joined another family for lunch at a local kid-friendly restaurant.  We parents were outnumbered with 3 hungry boys in each family.  Fortunately, they all wanted hamburgers, fries, and cokes.  Jory hummed through his meal while the other boys chowed down.  The restaurant had just instituted a bottomless drink policy, so the poor server spent a great deal of time running back and forth refilling perpetually emptied glasses of coke.  We squelched ketchup fights and flying fries, successfully making it through the meal.  On our way out, 8 year-old Jory announced that he had to go to the bathroom.

An elderly little lady sitting in the foyer, looked somewhat apprehensive as our rambunctious herd of boys, filled to the brim with high-sugar Coca Cola, joined her.  We waited and waited, but Jory didn't come out.  Soon, an elderly gentleman emerged from the men’s room.  

“I was getting worried about you,” said his wife, rising from her chair.  “What took you so long?”

“I was sitting on the commode when a kid came into the next stall.  He began to sing.  When he sang The Star Spangled Banner, I had to stand up until he was through.”

The gray haired couple walked arm in arm toward the door.  As they passed, the woman leaned toward us and explained, “My husband is a war veteran.”

Singing at Camp Ramah

Childhood summers for Jory included a few weeks away at camp.  It was at Camp Ramah that he fell in love with his counselors’ guitars and silly camp songs.  He always returned home with laryngitis from singing so much.  Toward the end of high school, he was offered a job as assistant and then, full time song leader at Camp Young Judea.  His passion for singing and having fun with songs was contagious and made him one of the favorites at camp.  When he moved to Marin after college, he reunited with his CYJ friends in the Bay Area and continued to bring his guitar and lead singing at beach bonfire barbecues.

Around sixth grade, Jory discovered Dr. Demento, a local radio broadcaster whose weekly show specialized in comedy and novelty recordings.  For months, Jory sang Fish Heads and Dead Puppies.  When we sent him to bed on Sunday nights, he secretly listened in the dark to the Dr. Demento Radio Show, which began with an hour of listener requested novelty records, followed by a second hour of songs along a hit-or-miss theme, like pets, movies, or romance.  Before the show ended, there was always a countdown of “The Funny Five” most requested recordings.  When I couldn't wake up Jory for school on Monday mornings, he betrayed himself by singing to me selections from “The Funny Five.”  Later on in junior high, we discovered that Jory was a regular phone-in requester of recordings and carried on an established personal correspondence with Dr. Demento.  During those years, Jory's favorite singers/composers were Tom Lehrer, and "Weird Al" Yankovic.  Later, he added Roy Zimmerman.  

Jory played trombone in the school orchestra from 5th-8th grades and was looking forward to joining the marching band in high school.  He had also tested into the super-academic International Baccalaureate program at our local high school.  Fortunately for him, band and IB had conflicting time constraints.  We already knew that Jory was smart and could easily ace exams without studying.  He had already broken us down.  We reluctantly knew, but couldn't quite accept, that getting him to do homework or turn in projects on time was a futile battle. 

Macintosh 128K

LA Times Article featuring Jory

 We looked for an alternative and found one in a new technology magnet program that had begun at Troy High School.  Jory had been computer and technology literate since the first Macintosh 128K came into our home when he was 9 years old.  Students at Troy Tech could participate in academics, tech, and music classes. It turned out to be a perfect fit.  

Jory & Q-Tip

The first two years of band were fun.  He became a band geek, played the trombone, and made good friends with Lee (aka Q-Tip), the tuba player who was also in Troy Tech.  His junior year, Jory decided to switch to percussion and tried out for the drum line, not knowing it was a “good old boys’ club.”  He was relegated to xylophone, which was different, but not exciting like being on the drum line.

“How do you do it?” I asked Jory in amazement.

“It’s easy.  I can hear the music in my head.”

“How do you do that?”

“I don’t know.  I just hear each instrument clearly in my head as the music is playing?”

“Can you do it with an entire orchestra?” I questioned.

“Sure,” he responded.

Re-notation & Revision by Jory

“How did you learn that?” I prodded in disbelief.

“I didn’t learn it,” he replied.  “I’ve always been able to hear it that way.  Can’t you?”

“No,” I replied as I shook my head, “I’m just happy to hear the music playing altogether.”

As part of his Troy Tech internship project, Jory rewrote the school's alma mater and printed enough copies so that every band member would have one for the years to come.

Sam & Jory in Boston.  Jory carrying his portfolio

Jory was still a high school senior, but had been admitted for the upcoming Fall semester to prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston, so we took him to visit the campus.  A music professor asked him to face the doorway while he played random notes on the piano.  Jory immediately identified each note just by hearing it.  He also sang the note exactly as it was played.  The professor turned to us and said, “Your son has perfect pitch and is musically gifted.”  We were shocked!  He continued to explain that perfect pitch is a rarity, occurring in only 1 out of 10,000 persons.  We had no idea that Jory could do this!  Berklee offered him a scholarship, as did CalArts, and Jory decided to attend CalArts, where the atmosphere was more playful, innovative, and crazy.  We continued to regard Jory as just being Jory.


With his beautiful singing voice, Jory twice explored singing on stage.  While a CalArts student, he auditioned for Evita at Fullerton Civic Light Opera.  Throughout high school and college, he volunteered as an usher for FCLO and always helped the theatrical sound mixer balance the room.  He loved musical theater but never wanted to be on stage as an actor until Evita.  He took a few voice lessons and auditioned with I've Never Been In Love Before.  He didn't make the cut and never tried again.  His second foray was at College of Marin.  He enrolled in a class for concert chorus in hope of meeting some girls to date.  He loved the class, but except for himself, the chorus was composed entirely of retired senior citizens.  He never enrolled again.

Jory & Roy Zimmerman

It made perfect sense to us, years later, when Jory's studio was established, that studio.jory.org became the exclusive recording venue for his hero and acquired friend Roy Zimmerman.  He loved Roy’s satirical songs on social issues and politics and often sang them at music venues in Fairfax.  Jory's most memorable performance was at the 60th anniversary party for Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris.  The party was held at Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach.  Family and friends came from Colorado, Ohio, Nebraska, Arizona, and Kansas.  We bussed in Grandma and Grandpa’s friends from their retirement village of Leisure World in Laguna Woods.  The Aquarium’s theater facility comfortably seated the guests while Jory took the stage with his guitar.  His first song was Blackbird, which became a family favorite after he serenaded Darren and Andra at their wedding reception.  His last song was Roy Zimmerman’s Defenders of Marriage, extolling the virtues of same sex marriage.  The guests sat riveted to their seats.  When he was finished, the theater was absolutely silent, the octogenarian audience not knowing whether to applaud or throw their dentures at him.   

Jory found that singing at open mic nights at Sleeping Lady, 19 Broadway, and Peri’s in Fairfax was more accepting of controversial and humorous songs.  He became a regular at all of them.  Most of the time he sang novelty songs, but sometimes he sang songs that he wrote.  When he wrote a new song, he'd call me to sing it over the phone.  If it was a romantic ballad, I always knew that there was a new love interest in his life.   

“Who is she?” I'd ask.  He’d tell me a little about her and I'd always wonder if she realized how fortunate she was to have a song written especially for her.  I only know of one of his songs that he actually recorded at studio.jory.org.  He sent me an MP3 of Shooting Stars, which he wrote while sitting on the baseball bleachers behind studio.jory.org in 2009.  If I could go back in time, I'd ask him for recordings of him singing Bertha from Bolinas and the Sesame Street songs that he was known to sing in Fairfax.

As his parents, we knew that music was at the essential core and essence of Jory.  He expressed his passion, love, commitment, and huge sense of humor through songs.  We supported, advocated, and guided him to use his creativity and knowledge to be his best, authentic self that he could be.  To us, Jory was still just Jory.  Amazingly, it was his friends and colleagues, through their recognition, praise, and expressed value of his gifts and talent, that created and opened a window that allowed us to see him through their eyes.  We are eternally grateful.

Portrait by Roger Gonzalez

© Leslye J. Prum   2017   All Rights Reserved.

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum   1993 

Since my early childhood, music has guided my life.  It has kept me centered and helped me when I have been upset, unhappy, or joyous.  At a young age, I knew of its existence and constantly enjoyed its presence.  I even sang as I ate and my first word was related to the subject, as well:  "Radio!"

Jory Prum January 29, 2009     

I love comedy in all things. I try not to take life too seriously.  My favorite types of music are novelty songs (funny tunes, like Dr. Demento plays), heavy metal, and folk music. I love good comedy and funny music, so I'm a fan of "Weird Al" Yankovic, Emo Philips, Roy Zimmerman, The Foremen, George Carlin, and many, many more.

I used to work in the house crew for a professional musical theatre company. I saw every show 14 times, which was awesome. We did four shows each season. Some of my favorites were "The Most Happy Fella", "Ain't Misbehavin'", "Forever Plaid", "Nunsense", "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas", and more.

             Jory Prum  February 1, 2009

I auditioned for "Evita" at Fullerton Civic Light Opera. In order to prepare, I took voice lessons. My audition song was "I've Never Been In Love Before" by Frank Loesser. I really just wanted to be in the chorus, although I've never had any compulsion before or since to act in anything.

Nick    April 24, 2016 

I remember the first time I met Jory.  I went with my mom to the Sleeping Lady for open mic night and he sang the Dead Puppies song.  I was in tears because I was laughing so hard.

Lisa    April 24, 2016

One of my favourite memories of Jory was back in sixth grade. He had introduced me and many of our classmates to Dr Demento and I remember us all singing Fish Heads, Dead Puppies, and They're Coming to Take Me Away at the top of our lungs on the playground.

Kaela    April 27, 2016

I remember an entire day that we spent, just Jory exposing me to the stylings of Weird Al. I remember the huge smile on his face as he sang along gleefully.  During a conversation once about why some people are able to follow their dreams and others are held back their whole lives he told me stories of how incredibly supportive his parents were and that he always felt appreciated for who he was and encouraged to be his best.

LA Times. March 04, 1993|BRIAN SINGER | SPECIAL TO THE LA TIMES

http://articles.latimes.com/1993-03-04/news/vw-149_1_troy-high-school-in-fullerton

Prum, 18, a senior at Troy High School in Fullerton, has been composing music in a more formal sense for the past three years.

He has combined his two favorite hobbies--computers and music--into a music-making machine. Using a high-tech Macintosh program hooked to a musical keyboard, he is able to play notes on the keyboard while the computer transposes them into a musical score.

Among his projects: rearranging the Troy High school song for the entire band. "It just needed to be done," he said. The rewriting of the song fulfilled Prum's internship requirement for the Troy Tech program, an advanced computer magnet program at the school.

Linda 

Thanks for another enjoyable read.

Michelle 

I love the cartoon of Jory.  It really reminds me of his fun and sweet character.

Molly 

Beautiful! He had the music in his blood, directly from the Prum side (also Hein side) from you. Grandpa Sergio's whole family could play songs by ear.  Sergio would fill in for any instrument that was needed, without ever having had a lesson. Love your stories, love the photos.

Judy 

Your stories are wonderful, Leslie...so enjoryable! Would have loved to have heard him play and sing! Such talent!  You write exceptionally! 

My mother was a music major from USC  & she had perfect pitch as well, began piano at age 3 in West Hollywood and could play classical, musicals, easy listening and could transpose music into any key! She was so talented. I so regret quitting piano after 4 years of lessons.

Elaine R

Great story. Music seems to be in the blood of my boys too.

Elaine A

I just wanted to tell you how much I have enjoyed reading your blog about Jory. What a wonderful way to keep his memory alive by sharing with others his unique talents.  I am so amazed to read about Jory’s unique and special gift of music, something that our family was not given. Although we love music, none of us or our children or grandchildren learned to play an instrument or were talented in this area. Perhaps our great grandchildren! In the meantime I await to read your next blog.

Sam K

Golden Ears – what a perfect icon for Jory. 

Jane 

I enjoy your posts about Jory so much. He was such a wonderful tenant living in his “Hobbit Hole” underneath my house for over 3 years, and I always laughed seeing him play his songs at Simon’s Open mic night at the Sleeping Lady. And now with your reminiscences of him, I know him even better.  Thank you so much for sharing him with us.