Excentric

Mentioned Morrie a couple of times. His name was Morris Horowitz, founder of the Sedona Excentric. My wife and I had moved from Virginia Beach, VA to Lake Havasu City thinking we still needed to be around water. Havasu was hell-  not just because in the time we lived there, April 27 1987 until April 27 1988, was it one of the hottest climates in North America, but because I was managing a restaurant/bar and working like hell for a nominal wage. We moved to the Village of Oak Creek after landing a job at Los Abrigados. I soon realized I wasn't cut out for restaurant management. The higher ups may have realized the same earlier than I. Anyway, I applied for a job schlepping furniture for Canyon State Moving Company. They offered a job the next day. I asked if they were as hard up as I was, for surely they must have noticed that with my build, I was probably only good for lifting the couch cushions. The office manager Sasha Valckuck laughingly confessed that they indeed were that desperate. I worked for a few months, lost weight and added muscle, but knew there was no way I would become a master furniture hauler.

While talking with Sasha one summer morning I mentioned reading a column in the local paper called "Ask the Record Man." I found it amusing, as I had been in rock and roll bands in Virgina for many years. I suggested the column's author was posessed with a wicked wit, but was a bit of an asshole and I would like to meet him. She said his name was Morrie and she would introduce me the next time he dropped her off at work, as they lived together. She assured me my apology was not necessary, for Morrie could at times be an asshole. She pointed me out the next morning, he waved and drove off. My wife and I were invited by Sasha to join her and Morrie for cocktails at Judi's Restaurant that Friday night. I wasn't sure what to expect, but as Morrie and I sat at the bar, drinking, the discussion turned to music. It turns out that Morrie had worked for Decca records in Michigan. Our backgrounds led to an evening of drinks and laughter and more drinks and musical trivia challenges and more drinks. Morrie was the first non-politician I had met that became more lucid the more he drank.

He tried to impress me by announcing The Strawbs were the band with the best harmonies and I back at him declaring I owned their only two released albums. We're old - this was vinyl. Not impressed, he told me of his 10,000 record collection - he and Sasha used to own a music store. In a feeble attempt to toss him a curve I exalted the Bonzo Dog Band, to which he named the musicians and what year they recorded their work. I was informed later that he had a selective photographic memore - music albums - the musicians, dates and studios recorded. After many drinks he asked what I was doing wasting my life schlepping furniture and asked me to come work with him on the Key to Sedona Coupon Books. I agreed.

In the midst of selling advertising ot the second run of the KeY to Sedona, Morrie started the Sedona Excentric. He gave away and traded for a couple of ads and put out two eight-page papers. he started this paper after drinking with the publisher of another publication who bet him he couldn't do it and would print it if he did. Well, he also charged a hefty fee for the printing. With the third issue in the computer, Morrie came to me and announced he was a bout to write a bad check for the coming issue and needed me to go out and sell some ads to pay for it. I put the Key on hold and headed Uptown, where I fould 4 business owners amused enough with the first two editions, to back the next four. Returning with $420, Morrie jumped with
glee, grabbed my arm, told me that the paper only cost $400 to print and we had made a $20 profit and needed to celebrate - on to Judi's. We never looked back. Later, I'll tell you the shrewd tactics we employed while creating a publishing empire.

That's all for now . . .