Oh man...it is so hard to believe, still.
Tony I had known for a while before his book came out, just as most of us know each other. From the boards...from his replies and exceptional poetry. He was so damned BRILLIANT that he scared me. I will say quite frankly that I was in awe of him...and his gift.
When he replied to something I wrote, I was over the MOON. When he and I became friends, i told him it used to make me feel like a lounge singer getting a compliment from Elvis. That was sort of an "in" joke between is. But I am getting ahead of myself.
There was a specific time when Tony and I went from "friendly" to "friends"...and I shall never forget it.
When my daughter was 11, she underwent months of medical evaluations and testing. At one point, they tested her for two serious--and potentially fatal disorders. I was just about out of my mind---and can honestly say I have never been more scared in my life. People tried to be kind---but there is no right thing to say at such a time, and i was more lonely than ever I remember being.
One night, quite late, I posted a poem at the Respite, about what I was feeling---and the next day, found a reply to it...from Tony. He had only recently started posting there, and it was gentle, and kind. He followed it up with a personal email and I was simply stunned by his kindness and concern.
When things turned out ok for Desi, I could simply not forget his kindness...the right words at the right moment had given me the ability to tap a reserve of strength I did not know I had. I could not presume on Tony by calling him "friend"...but he was an ace in my book, and there was nothing I would not have done for him.
He started posting more often to the Respite---no hardship there! His work was welcome...and honored for its quality.We began chatting via email, and when he told me, almost shyly about his coming book, I could not have been more excited for him. I offered him a banner, to promote the sale, and some suggestions on marketing the book once it came out.
But he had a notion.
He wanted me to be his agent.
Can you spell mortal terror?
I liked and admired him vastly...but i also knew how difficult it was to sell a book of poetry. I offered to help him with publicity...but as a friend. No Ma'AM.
He wanted to pay me.
No SIR.
And so it began.
Be my agent.
No.
Be my agent, please?
No.
Be my agent, please with a winning grin?
(whimper) No.
I should have known better.
The man was a Marine to his socks.
"No" was not in his vocabulary.
Finally, he sent me an email.
"Please be my agent...because I already told everyone you are...and if you don't, I'll feel stupid..."
THAT MAN...
(I took my own revenge...I rarely billed him, unless he forced me to---and then usually only printing costs or postage...)
And so it began...a partnership professionally...and a friendship personally. We talked daily. Sometimes we wrote online together. tossing out lines to each other. He learned about Desi...I learned about Brandi, his mom, and Yumi...and when his book was due out, he put me in contact with his publisher, Leon.
Leon sent me the finished manuscript electronically, at Tony's request. I was honored by the trust---dazzled by the poetry...and i did not read the acknowledgement page til I was writing a review for him.
Tony thanked people from his life---his mom...his wife...and just a few others...including Lisa Shields, Galadrial, of the Respite. I cried. He was such an amazing person...and I had not done much at all at that point, by my reckoning. From that moment on, I would have moved heaven and earth for him. Any fears I felt about representing him fell away.
Working with him was...a challenge.
I believe his photo is posted in Webster's under the word "stuborn". Charming. Polite...but stubborn.
I was not allowed to mention his distinguished military background...save to say he served in the Marine Corps. He had a lot more than a chestful of ribbons...fruit salad he called them. One night while we talking, he went through a long list of them. When he was done---not finished, just done with the topic, I mentioned that they didn't sound like the sort of medals you got for just "showing up". He smiled. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it.
"Maybe so, Old Seer...maybe so..."
I got to know him.
I learned to love him a lot.
And one beautiful Spring, I got to meet him...live and in person. Tony and I were just dangerous in person. He had a wonderful sense of humor...and I have an evil one. I am amazed we were not arrested at Dinner...we certainly attracted enough glares...but I couldn't help it. He had me rolling on the floor...and I was not about to be outdone---so i gave as good as I got.
Over the next 36 hours, I got a feel for the man behind that amazing poetry. There was so much to him, and he was honest, frank, and simply true blue. When he read the next day in front of hundreds of teachers, I was mopping tears with the rest of them...but I was so PROUD of him.
That day, he captured people's hearts with his words.
Only I knew how nervous he was before---but his voice betrayed none of it. He read "I am an American." and it was quite simply, stunning to hear.
Later that day, when we both went our seperate ways, I simply hated to break the hug. I did not know it was the last time I would ever see him...but maybe...somehow I did.
When I got the call several weeks later, I howled.
Not possible.
Not possible that such a splendid, vibrant being was suddenly "not", anymore. Looking back, I thank God for that time in Fayetteville. I count myself blessed to have been there for his moment of triumph...and never will I forget the man---or allow him to be forgotten.
Semper Fi, Poetdude...how I miss you~
Tony I had known for a while before his book came out, just as most of us know each other. From the boards...from his replies and exceptional poetry. He was so damned BRILLIANT that he scared me. I will say quite frankly that I was in awe of him...and his gift.
When he replied to something I wrote, I was over the MOON. When he and I became friends, i told him it used to make me feel like a lounge singer getting a compliment from Elvis. That was sort of an "in" joke between is. But I am getting ahead of myself.
There was a specific time when Tony and I went from "friendly" to "friends"...and I shall never forget it.
When my daughter was 11, she underwent months of medical evaluations and testing. At one point, they tested her for two serious--and potentially fatal disorders. I was just about out of my mind---and can honestly say I have never been more scared in my life. People tried to be kind---but there is no right thing to say at such a time, and i was more lonely than ever I remember being.
One night, quite late, I posted a poem at the Respite, about what I was feeling---and the next day, found a reply to it...from Tony. He had only recently started posting there, and it was gentle, and kind. He followed it up with a personal email and I was simply stunned by his kindness and concern.
When things turned out ok for Desi, I could simply not forget his kindness...the right words at the right moment had given me the ability to tap a reserve of strength I did not know I had. I could not presume on Tony by calling him "friend"...but he was an ace in my book, and there was nothing I would not have done for him.
He started posting more often to the Respite---no hardship there! His work was welcome...and honored for its quality.We began chatting via email, and when he told me, almost shyly about his coming book, I could not have been more excited for him. I offered him a banner, to promote the sale, and some suggestions on marketing the book once it came out.
But he had a notion.
He wanted me to be his agent.
Can you spell mortal terror?
I liked and admired him vastly...but i also knew how difficult it was to sell a book of poetry. I offered to help him with publicity...but as a friend. No Ma'AM.
He wanted to pay me.
No SIR.
And so it began.
Be my agent.
No.
Be my agent, please?
No.
Be my agent, please with a winning grin?
(whimper) No.
I should have known better.
The man was a Marine to his socks.
"No" was not in his vocabulary.
Finally, he sent me an email.
"Please be my agent...because I already told everyone you are...and if you don't, I'll feel stupid..."
THAT MAN...
(I took my own revenge...I rarely billed him, unless he forced me to---and then usually only printing costs or postage...)
And so it began...a partnership professionally...and a friendship personally. We talked daily. Sometimes we wrote online together. tossing out lines to each other. He learned about Desi...I learned about Brandi, his mom, and Yumi...and when his book was due out, he put me in contact with his publisher, Leon.
Leon sent me the finished manuscript electronically, at Tony's request. I was honored by the trust---dazzled by the poetry...and i did not read the acknowledgement page til I was writing a review for him.
Tony thanked people from his life---his mom...his wife...and just a few others...including Lisa Shields, Galadrial, of the Respite. I cried. He was such an amazing person...and I had not done much at all at that point, by my reckoning. From that moment on, I would have moved heaven and earth for him. Any fears I felt about representing him fell away.
Working with him was...a challenge.
I believe his photo is posted in Webster's under the word "stuborn". Charming. Polite...but stubborn.
I was not allowed to mention his distinguished military background...save to say he served in the Marine Corps. He had a lot more than a chestful of ribbons...fruit salad he called them. One night while we talking, he went through a long list of them. When he was done---not finished, just done with the topic, I mentioned that they didn't sound like the sort of medals you got for just "showing up". He smiled. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it.
"Maybe so, Old Seer...maybe so..."
I got to know him.
I learned to love him a lot.
And one beautiful Spring, I got to meet him...live and in person. Tony and I were just dangerous in person. He had a wonderful sense of humor...and I have an evil one. I am amazed we were not arrested at Dinner...we certainly attracted enough glares...but I couldn't help it. He had me rolling on the floor...and I was not about to be outdone---so i gave as good as I got.
Over the next 36 hours, I got a feel for the man behind that amazing poetry. There was so much to him, and he was honest, frank, and simply true blue. When he read the next day in front of hundreds of teachers, I was mopping tears with the rest of them...but I was so PROUD of him.
That day, he captured people's hearts with his words.
Only I knew how nervous he was before---but his voice betrayed none of it. He read "I am an American." and it was quite simply, stunning to hear.
Later that day, when we both went our seperate ways, I simply hated to break the hug. I did not know it was the last time I would ever see him...but maybe...somehow I did.
When I got the call several weeks later, I howled.
Not possible.
Not possible that such a splendid, vibrant being was suddenly "not", anymore. Looking back, I thank God for that time in Fayetteville. I count myself blessed to have been there for his moment of triumph...and never will I forget the man---or allow him to be forgotten.
Semper Fi, Poetdude...how I miss you~
