ocvictor: (Not French)
The Telegram's longtime News Editor, Lee Merkel, died yesterday morning. Lee was a strange, funny man with a penchant for "Star Trek" and conspiracy theories -- the sort of editor who would call up the Associated Press to chew them out on some fine detail of a wire news story.

Last real conversation I had with him was when the other news desk editors were groaning that someone pointed out there was a wire story on The Loch Ness Monster last week -- things like that terribly amused him, and he always lobbied hard to get them in the paper.

He was a damn fine newsman and a lot of fun to work with, and he'll be missed.


Jan. 8th, 2006 09:27 pm
ocvictor: (Default)
Just got back from the Java Hut -- Good feature from Christa Bell to a fairly low-energy room. Still, she made it work -- up to and including dragging one of the kids in the audience to beat box behind one of her poems (a rocking little piece about women and hip-hop. Lots of power and rage. Good stuff.)

It was nice to hear more from her than what I'd heard at iWPS -- seriously enjoyed her set.


Very little progress on the manuscript today -- not really been up to focusing, although I got some cleaning done, so it wasn't a complete wash.

Thoughts are starting to coalesce about Paul being dead. It's a hard thought to come to grips with, the loss of someone you'd lost contact with. Except I didn't lose contact with him, evidently. We'd been back in contact up to what had to have been mere weeks or months before he died. We'd even talked on the phone. I'd wondered why I hadn't heard from him when I dropped him an e-mail to tell him I was going to be in Los Angeles, but he bopped around a lot, changed e-mails a couple times. I figured he'd bop around eventually. Like I'd said earlier, we'd been here before. It didn't particularly bother me.

Paul and I met at Arundel in 1991. He was one of those people that was born to be on student council -- was student body president almost the day he stepped onto the campus. He was also stage manager for a couple of the plays I produced. He's the guy in the story I tell too often that gave me my first cigarette (actually second, I'd tried a few drags once before) when a scene for the play I was directing -- "God's Favorite," by Neil Simon -- was falling to pieces. He was smoking, the people on the sidelines were smoking. I didn't smoke.

"Paul," I said, "Give me a cigarette."
"You don't smoke, Victor"
"Paul, give me a cigarette."

He gave me a cigarette.

"Paul. Give me a light."
"Are you sure..."

I lit the cigarette and inhaled on the first try. Everyone stopped.

"Keep. Going."

And they nailed the scene.

Stupid little memory, and yet, it was one of those moments that crystallized my persona, particularly as an artist -- a strange little moment that shaped how I present myself to the world. Odd, how the small things add up to define us. Seems so long ago that I almost think it happened to someone else.

Paul's gone now. He was a good guy, and I'm sure he's in a better place.

It all sounds kind of empty when you put it like that.
ocvictor: (Default)
The bad year for poets gets one more before it leaves...

Just received this from G. Murray Thomas:

Orange County poet Lawrence Schulz died this past week, apparantly from complications during surgery. Unluckily, I don't have many details at all. I'm trying to find out when and where for the Memorial Service, and will let you all know as soon as I do.

Larry was one of my best friends, a great poet, and a powerful presence on the SoCal poetry scene. I can truthfully say Next... Magazine would never have existed if it was not for Larry. His poetry and performances were a great inspiration to me when I was starting out, and continued to move me over the years.

I will let you all know more as I find it out. Look for a full appreciation on Poetix.
with great sadness,

G. Murray Thomas

Larry and I were friends. We also disagreed on most things when it came to poetry. We were usually OK with this. As Murray says, my beloved "Next... Magazine" would have never happened without him. He was one of the winners in the "OC Weekly" Poetry Contest, which I ran the one year it existed, and deservedly so.

I can't find any of the write-ups I did on him for OCW, but my favorite of them ended with the words, "Let's go down to the bar to see Larry. He's one of us."

And he was.

I've known the man a long time.

I'm sorry he's gone.


ocvictor: (Default)
Victor David Infante

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