by Mara Cohen Hiroshi Tsubono I can’t recall a single conversation with my brother, Danny. Not a solitary one. Here’s a sampling of what I do remember: taping the Halloween decorations on the living room windows, sneaking into the pool at the Writer’s Manor Hotel before it was demolished and dancing the west coast swing at the Black Angus steakhouse. But what did we discuss while we did these things? Our favorite plot twists on Star Trek? Whether Geraldine Ferraro was a viabl