Or as Val would say " Lyyylle.!! " My first apartment was sharing a place with Val - Lyle would ride over on his Vespa; he always had cool shit like that. One time he and I went to irrigate his Marijuana plants at UC Irvine; we drove in his Henry Kaiser; it may be as close as I ever get to being an actual outlaw, though I have grown my own and even traded in the demon weed. Lyle was a man of his own design; he did not seek an approved role in life, he was an explorer. Like all explorers he was powerful - even legendary, but I was never afraid of him. As a kid, even though he and his brother could hit baseballs over the fence consistently, Lyle did not demand that everyone else should, or that you were less if you did not. He was decent early on in life and only grew more so as years went by. It wasn't until much later that I grew to appreciate what a kind man he had become.
Maybe a decade back, I was living far from where we grew up. It was an old home in much need of wiring expertise, he was the expert. About this time, I was finishing my Bachelor's in English and through conversation I had learned Lyle was dyslexic. What struck me about Lyle at that time was his feeling for people; he had an author's understanding for the motivations of the human experience, but Lyle's smarts were from the streets, not from academic training. His higher education came from the push and shove at the margins of conventional life, nor did he always ooze warm fuzzies. He could disappear from access and leave you wondering if he was swimming for the bottom or just blowing you off because he could. That is part of what made Lyle special - he was not fake, almost as though he didn't know that was an option. Maybe Lyle's heroic demons were there to match his warrior ways.
He did battle with things that break other men - betrayal, addiction - even the most profound of questions "the meaning of life." Lyle stared into the abyss and did not shrink, he did not sacrifice his own confusion for an easy answer, almost. Lyle refused to be categorized, yet he was the "common man." Not by today's meaning of some stereotype cutout, but the common that includes strengths as well as weaknesses - Lyle had empathy, and it was always a surprise to come upon it. Like most "men" Lyle did not wear his feelings close to the surface, rather they would peek out around a subject like a shy kid. True story: I'm making a statue of a woman that has taken many years to complete; early on while she was still looking at how to fit into the stone, Lyle came over. Because one often gets too close to something, I've found it useful to hear other people's take on works in progress. Lyle looked at it with some enthusiasm and said, "it's really neat" at the same time he was leaning over and peering under her forearm to see how it rested on her chest.
The reason I share this and why it is important is that it describes Lyle's way of experiencing the world - he was a poet, an artist. Many people have looked at the same piece, but few are drawn into the experience of finding the "woman" in the stone and how she carries herself. It is a level of awareness - a way of feeling the world that few possess, and I will miss that about him. Queen Victoria said "artists associate with all classes of people, and for this reason, they are the most dangerous." If this essay is read at his memorial - look around at the people you see and you will know that is true of Lyle as well. His friends were legion and he was loyal to them all; so much so I'd be surprised if each who knew him didn't feel at some level that they were his closest friend - I'm hoping what he felt toward me was as an ally in his war with mediocrity.
Some 10 years or so ago, we quit smoking together. Later I liked to tease him about the money that he owed me from that agreement - but it is more I am the one who owes him. For though I am breathing and he has passed, his courage and inspiration are of those things in life that have endurance, and I'd doubt seriously that I'm alone in this feeling. It was frustrating to not be able to return the same level of inspiration I felt in his company; I even threatened him with a beat down if he did not let go of the tobacco ( I don't think he was afraid ) - Lyle was a stand alone human being. There are so few left on the planet that are capable of living on their own terms, for me to have known Lyle and even to call him friend has made my life immeasurably better - how many of us will have the same said? May you rest in peace Lyle Jeffrey Sears.
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