Sunday, August 22, 2004
Got to Whistler's, where the wake was being held for Toby, along with Bryce, Aggie and their son Benin at around 6:30. There were already a number of people there, many I had only just met at the service on Wednesday previous, though there were a few other people I knew. It was great to see Dr. Z, who was once Station Manager at CFRC, a real lovable curmudgeon who somehow doesn't seem any different than the last time I saw him a decade or so ago. Marie B., another person from my days at CFRC was also there. Toby's family was also there of course, as were his many friends associated with his various artistic and musical pursuits over the years.
After a dinner, Toby's brother Piers went to the podium, relating several homourous stories about Toby that evoked his personality, and had everybody laughing in sympathy over those quirks that helped define Toby's unique character. For me the one I enjoyed best was the one relating how Toby called his brother suggesting they go out, and then his brother gently reminding him, in stages, that they were already set to go out that evening to the opera. At the conclusion:
Toby's roommate Ivan S. read a terrific poem that Toby had composed and had placed on their fridge. The basic premise is akin to a typical love poem, with metaphor after metaphor piled on, describing what the target of the poem is like. But then it takes a twist, with more obtuse metaphors piled on as to what that person isn't. One line near the end that I think I remember: "Rest assured that you are still the bread knife and the bread, but you are not the Swiss cheese. You are the red wine, and somehow, you are also the goblet". It was brilliant stuff that everybody in the room recognized as being pure Toby.
I also got up and said a few words, talking about the creation of the band "Miscellaneous 'S'", mainly because Toby liked the idea for a joke band that Pete and I had, and provided the necessary chutzpah and the instruments to make it happen. I also related the creation of "Merry Xmas for Godzilla" in the presence of an English professor who was conversing with another friend about the writing process. The one that brought the most laughs was the concert the band did in the early days at Cafe Crepe Divine where we managed to clear out the place, save for one table. It turned out that the people at that table were all deaf. :-)
I was glad to see Bryce go up and say a few words as well. He reminded me of one of Toby's concepts for furniture that couldn't actually be used. There would be chairs you couldn't sit on or tables you couldn't put anything on. Ridiculous or surreal, but the pieces would be objects d'art, and make one question exactly what the "role" of furniture actually was. Bryce seamlessly linked this to Toby's penchant for deliberately pushing himself into areas and ideas he wasn't always comfortable with as a means of challenging himself. Which is not a bad way to live one's life.
Then Toby's flamenco guitar teacher came up, telling us about his experiences with Toby. More often than not, Toby would apparently go to the tutorial session, tell the instructor that he had made a folk song Toby wanted him to hear, and by the time they had finished discussing it critically, the lesson was usually over. :-) The flamenco instructor, along with his wife, daughter, a dance student and a percussionist all then gave a rousing set of flamenco music and dance.
We left during one of these numbers, as little Benin was really tired, and I had to get up early to go to work the next day. It was a good wake, filled with remembrances about Toby.
Piers: "Toby, you really hadn't forgotten about this, did you?"
Toby: "Oh no, no, I remembered."
Piers: "Okay, we'll see you at the restaurant then."
Toby: "Ah. [Pause] The Hot House?
Piers: No Toby, sushi. You
Toby: [in a voice admitting guilt] "Yes".
Toby had done this sort of thing with each of us at least once, and it was very Toby-like. I can't help but smile at the thought of it.
One of the saddest things was seeing Toby's instruments arrayed to one side, cases open, but no one to play them. Toby's characteristic mandolin was there, the one which used famously to play what we called "Star Trek tension music" in some 'S' songs where normally you'd expect a melodic bridge. A lonely mandolin, with no-one to tickle more musical jokes out of it. It was nice though how somebody gave Benin a toy guitar that Toby had once had. Saying that Toby's musical legacy had somehow been passed along in this fashion strikes me as an overly sentimental way of making a connection, but I can't help smile a mischievous smile that it might somehow still be so.
I heard from Erika early this morning by phone. I figured that they were safe since I didn't hear any news about horrendous plane crashes, but hearing Erika's voice was very welcome indeed.
She said that both kids managed to sleep for most of the flight over, though Vanessa was air-sick on the final leg of the last flight, as well as in the car ride to Ramatuelle. Apparently she was vowing never to take another flight after that, but I don't think she really wants to stay in France forever either. :-)
Erika also said that it was beautiful there, the hillsides lush with greenery, weather in the low 30s, though the grapes not yet ripe for harvest. The kids are both having a blast with the swimming pool, and apparently were all over their mother this morning, clamouring to get into the pool.
Sounds like everyone is having a good time. Can't wait to see them all again.
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