Soul Man

Little did I know in 1980 when I transferred from Suva Intermediate to Colmar Elementary School that I would meet my husband, join a staff of educators that couldn’t be surpassed, hone my rabble rousing union skills, become a Cheap Sax groupie (and The Balding Brothers prior to that, and The Rev prior to that), become the Promotional Sales Director for the LA Tubers, become a “coattail cousin”, and have Tommy as my friend for 29 years…..And I thought I was just moving from a traditional to a year round school calendar.


When Paul and I learned in April of last year that Tommy was diagnosed with cancer, we were getting ready to leave for our vacation. Tommy’s spirits were high as was our commitment to maintain the most positive thoughts about this new challenge. Before we left, Tommy sent us a note that said, “Wherever you are on Saturday night, You Can Leave Your Hat On and hoist a glass for me because I’m a Soul Man and I Ain’t Too Proud to Beg with a Little Help from My Friends.”

Well, Tommy, as the Saturday nights pass by, our hats will remain off to you…our eternal soul man. And, as for the help from our friends, we’re going to need all that we can get in order to survive the loss of your constant friendship.

We’ll keep you in our hearts.
--Robin Rose

Santa And The Firetruck

This past December I asked Tom to play Santa for me. He said.."Screw the doctors, I'm gonna have fun!"

So he agreed to play Santa at La Merced Elementary. Earlier in our relationship, Tom had mentioned to me that he'd always wanted to ride on a firetruck. Unbeknownst to both of us, I found out that Santa arrives at the school on a firetruck! I found out the day before but did not tell Tom. Then, the firetruck was cancelled because of the threat of rain!!!

I pleaded with the PTA to get that damn firetruck ready for Santa. Luckily, the PTA was able to get it and the following day, Tom arrived early to dress as Santa. The costume hung on him loosely and he was laughing so heartily about it. Then the bell rang and I told Tom at this school, Santa goes out to greet the kids. He started walking out the cafeteria door. I stopped him and redirected him to the opposite door. He went outside and his eyes lit up like I'm sure they did when he was just "little Tommy." He climbed on board. Kept yelling "Turn on the lights. Turn on the siren!" and rode in to a raucous welcome of kids!! In a downpour!

He greeted each and every one and then came back to the cafeteria sopping wet!! As we were wringing out his wig, he said..."Oh, that was great! I always wanted to be on a firetruck. The kids were great." Tom then proceeded to sit in the sled for the next 2 hours individually greeting each child while singing loudly to all of the Christmas songs playing, especially Chuck Berry's "Run, Rudolph, Run."

Just pure Tommy. He loved kids. Obviously, they loved him, too!
Merry Christmas, Tom!

-- Randy Lopez

I Can Take Care of Myself

Tommy sings lead with The Rev, circa 1981. Remember, kids, these were the days before everybody had a video camera in their back pocket. This footage is rare! Our favorite quote about this shoot is from The Rev's bass player Tom Ham, who looked at the playback for a few seconds and said "Porno lighting."

The Beat Goes On

This is a post I was hoping I'd never to have to write.

Tommy was one of those precious friends I knew I could always depend on, someone who would be there for me no matter what. You knew you could count on him to be there with a good word and a smile and a genuine interest in your life and the many other lives he touched.

So you get in the habit of depending on a guy like Tommy. He'll always be there, you figure, because he always has been there. Nothing bad is supposed to happen: he lived well, took care of himself, stayed positive, did good works, gave freely of himself. He probably flossed every day. You don't have to keep an eye on a guy like that, because he can take care of himself.

I know there are many who knew Tommy as an educator. For 34 years he was a teacher and administrator, and I have no doubt that he was good at what he did. But I knew him as an artist, a dedicated and hard-working musician.

I first met him in 1979 when I produced some demo tapes for him and his band "Tommy." I was impressed with his playing, the musical way he used his drums and his ear for arrangement. I was supposed to be just running the studio, but before long I found myself playing guitar parts here and there and soon I was a member of the band.

The band became The Rev, and The Rev became an odyssey of many rehearsals, long nights in the studio searching for the Perfect Track, and a whirlwind of shows at L.A. nightspots. After a few years The Rev morphed into The Balding Brothers, and the rock'n'roll circus continued for a couple of more years. There were good times and terrible times, but no matter what, Tommy kept the beat for us through it all. The drums are the heart of a rock band, and we put a lot of pressure on Tommy to hold us together musically. I mean a lot of pressure, but I don't recall him ever being anything but his calm, easygoing self, and I don't recall him ever giving less than everything he had when he was behind the drums.

I left the business for a long time, and as a result I didn't see Tommy for a while. It's one of the things I regret about the 90's. But even though we didn't see each other a lot, I still felt close to him (we were Balding Brothers, after all!). Luckily we reconnected in the past few years. We jammed a little, hung out a little, and it was as if we'd never been apart. In typical fashion, when I started a new band and we didn't have any gigs, Tommy supported us by inviting us to open for Cheap Sax at their huge annual party, because that's the way he rolled.

I miss you already, old friend, and I expect I always will. I thought we had more time. Damnit, I thought you'd always be there. I'm so grateful you were in my life, but this is not the Perfect Track we were seeking. There was supposed to be a much longer fadeout, and a lot more time to laugh and sing together.

So long, Tom. The beat goes on, but it will never be the same.

--Larry Menshek

A Little Help From His Friends

Tommy Dee in his signature sendup of Joe Cocker
at The Curtis Theater, 2003. Hat tip to Bill Warshaw of
TheatreSHOTS Theatrical Imaging Services
Thanks, Bill!