Geoff was important inmany ways to a lot of people. My experience with him was as one of the knobswho hung around at his record/toy store, Flipville Records (1936 N. Farwell Ave). Geoff possessed aphenomenal intellect and expressed himself in an authoritative but low-keymanner. Once I was lambasting some phony guru who made promises of “universalknowledge” and Geoff replied, “Well, it depends on what universe you mean…Ihave my own universe…of weirdness.”
Geoff looked like a guruand was, in fact, my cultural guru. I learned so many interesting things fromhim about Buck Owens, Porter Wagoner, “The Lawrence Welk Show,” Link Wray, GeneVincent, Joe Meek and Geoff’s favorite movie of all time, Bill and Coo (1948). In a mysterious combination of open-mindedbohemianism and pragmatic commercialism, Geoff constantly reminded me thateverythinggood, evil, and in betweenexists because somebody thought theycould make money off of it. Geoff sold and gave me so much wonderful crap,which I will always treasure. Stoic and immensely private, he lived life on hisown terms. He was my hero.
I’ll miss the sound ofhis raspy baritone voice, the sight of his penetrating eyes, and the odor ofthe constantly employed air freshener in his beloved Flipville. His departureleaves a big hole in a lot of people’s lives, but he’s very much alive in mythoughts. Wherever someone takes delight in the off-key singing of a12-year-old kid, strums an out-of-tune three-string Fisher-Price toy guitarwith the finesse of Andrés Segovia, or refers to anyone as a “knob,” the spiritof Stinky will surely live on.
Paul Host will present a tribute toGeoff 3 p.m. Saturday, May 8, on WMSE, 91.7 FM (www.wmse.org).
