MY FRIEND DERF
What to say about my friend Derf.
Pal. Mentor. Champion. Kindred spirit.
I met Derf sometime around 2012 when I was working in the movie department of a big record store on Sunset Blvd. He was irregular. Sorry, typo. He was a regular at the store. A chap with a sparky brain and a unique, oddball sense of humour. I immediately liked him. Over my many years working at that location, I forged a few close friendships, some co-workers, some customers… Derf and I quickly formed a connection. At first glance one might think us an odd pair of pals. On the surface, pretty different. Derf being a multiple award winning, stalwart name of the Hollywood film and television industry; and me, busying myself with alphabetising the DVD’s and laserdiscs of those films and shows in a record store down the road. We were different ages, eras, nationalities, beliefs… heights. However, as I got to know Derf better, it swiftly became apparent that we had a hell of a lot more in common than not.
We both made our own films as kids. We both loved stop motion animation, fantasy films, classic sci-fi. We both collected soundtrack LPs and loved B-movie monsters and robots. We were both arguably too old to collect action figures of these famous creatures, but we did so with abandon, along with movie books and magazines about the making of these masterpieces. Record stores have a knack of bringing folks like us together. We bonded over a mutual love of the music of Bernard Hermann, the monsters of Ray Harryhausen, the twists of Rod Serling and the shocks of Alfred Hitchcock. A not so cool thing we shared was terrible tinnitus! (thanks for the supplement suggestions Derf!)
Beyond the many films and shows we shared our fandoms with, Derf tipped me off to so many other artists and movies that I had never heard of. Even animators, and I thought I know most of them. He was the curator of his own encyclopedic cranial database, which was a quarter of a century older and deeper than mine. He had such damn good taste, and went down such interesting worm holes. At the store, Derf would covertly deposit movies in my ‘staff picks’ section, knowing full well I would see them, deduce the culprit that left it there, and take them home to watch. Then we’d shoot the poop about them the next time he came into the store. He never picked a turkey either, obviously. I like to think I recommended a few things to him too, though if I did, they’re lost in the list he shared with me.
Being a chap from the UK countryside, I was quite out of my depth when I first moved to LA, it felt grimy and intimidating. Derf was an invaluable insider - he showed me the good bits. He tipped me off to cool free events or places to go, like the Bob Peak/Drew Struzen art exhibition at Forest Lawn Cemetery. He told me about Magnolia in Burbank, a street which had all year round Halloween stores, vintage toy shops like Blast From The Past and movie memorabilia stores like Creature Features. Incidentally, when one of my paintings of King Kong was featured in an art exhibition at the latter, Derf came along to show his support. Through Derf’s filter, LA started to feel more like a place of magic, history and culture rather than something out of a John Carpenter movie.
Often, when Derf popped into the shop I would covertly show him video clips on my phone of the various creative projects I was undertaking outside the confines of retail. Robot builds, animated music videos, or clips from a stop motion animated comedy show I was toiling away on. He always seemed genuinely interested in the clips. He got and he dug my humour. He would always check in on my progress. Derf’s interest in my art was a confidence booster as I truly valued his opinion, respected his aesthetic and knew he truly got it. Derf championed me without a doubt. He sometimes overly complimented my stuff to the point it made me feel embarrassed. Maybe he knew it would take that kind of tactic to get through. Even now, if I feel a lack in confidence at my ability to create or see things through, I have Derf’s constant, unwavering faith in me in my back pack, I am lucky to have the echoes of his voice in my head.
Derf’s sense of humour was sometimes so abstract the only recourse was to be abstract back. I remember one time he lay down flat on the mezzanine floor in the DVD aisle of the store. It was performance art. Was it madness or was it genius? Is there a difference? He was frequently hilarious. Quick as a flash with all sorts of perfectly timed comedy gold. Occasionally, I feel Derf’s jokes housed thinly veiled truths about moments in his life that he found painful or difficult, or for which he still felt sadness. I like to think that us riffing and goofing about those things took the wind out of their sails and helped him smile. I might just be projecting. Sometimes his self deprecation would bug me, he would make jokes about his hair loss, saying that he looked like Tor Johnson from Plan 9 From Outer Space. I would get defensive on his behalf and not join in. I’d quickly grab a random compliment from the air and bat it back at him, even though he wasn’t fishing for one. Perhaps I was a bit of a champion for Derf too in that way. I hope it got through and that he knew how the folks that loved him, saw him. A cool looking dude, snazzy baggy casual, a man with stories and the art of charm. He had survived so much, so well, so long.
I have many fond memories of hanging with Derf at Paramount. He seemed to love me visiting as much as I loved to visit. We’d shoot pool, talk movies. He would encourage me to raid crafty. It was snack central. He let me sit in on some recording sessions, which was fascinating, he was so animated when he worked. The atmosphere he created for the voice actors was so lively, fun and creative. Derf loved giving golf cart tours, I probably did it 5 or 6 with him, inviting various chums sometimes. One very happy memory I have is of Derf and I climbing high up the inside of one of the street facades at night and looking down on the film set below through an open window. I was imagining possible camera shots and scenes as Derf explained how much better it looked when they hosed it down as though it had rained. The visual magic of the reflections of car and street lights in the water on the surface of the road.
I found Derf a little old fashioned sometimes, in his patter and theology. I remember my friend Katie and I visiting Derf at Paramount one time to shoot some pool in the break room. Derf was speaking in a somewhat out of date way about women, referring to them as beautiful dames, that kind of thing. I would blush, feeling guilty by association. Afterwards in the car, I apologised to my female friend, if she had found any of Derf’s terminologies a little dated. Of course, Katie bloody loved every second of it and I clearly underestimated Derf’s charm.
When he retired from Paramount, Derf invited me and my girlfriend at the time, Alyssa as his guests. An outdoor party, I think at some race track. Sunshine, live music, beer and food! You bet Derf! He down played it so much I didn’t even realise it was his retirement party until it was almost over. I remember he pretty much only talked to us. He wanted to get three chairs and just sit with us on the periphery of the action, kinda just not be involved. We weren’t fans of crowds and didn’t know anyone but Derf anyway so were more than happy to form our own little bubble with him. An exclusive little club. The cool kids. I saw a man, perhaps, jaded with the industry, but who never lost an ounce of passion for what he did within it. When Derf left LA it felt like the end of an era, it was sad. I was going to really miss seeing my buddy on the regs. I suggested we watch movies together whilst hanging out on FaceTime. So our hang time became digital, as it had with my family back in the UK. I learnt so much from his live commentaries, more than hanging out with my buddy, it was like a bespoke film school.
When Derf visited LA in March 2022, the first thing we did was go to a very exclusive and somewhat upmarket restaurant that he recommended on Sunset Blvd named ‘Denny’s’. Derf talked of wanting to take the trip to LA a couple of times a year from here on out, especially what with the world having not long opened back up from you know what. I was stoked to hear it as I missed hanging in person. I had a friend who worked at the Academy so I got us tickets to the new Academy of Motion Picture Arts Museum. Derf brought his buddy too and the three of us spent some hours there, looking at the original Rosebud from Citizen Kane, Bruce Lee’s jump suit from Enter The Dragon, the huge original backdrop of Rushmore from North by North West. I am so very glad we had that last adventure together. The trip to the Academy Museum would be the last time I would see him in person, and it is such a special memory. Finally I got to show Derf some old movie magic.
I feel like Derf lived in his own reality, well, I suppose we all do, but his was particularly fun to spend time in. As I grieve my friend, I am comforted by the plethora of happy memories we managed to accumulate over the years. I will remember him as I knew him. A man for whom it was Christmas all year round. A dear friend who was in my corner. A wonderful kook.
I only, perhaps selfishly, wish he could have stayed around longer, I miss him incredibly already as I feel we had so many more chats to have, so many more films to watch and so much more goofing to do…
But hey, nobody’s Derfect.
Love you mate and I’m really gonna miss you, I will always cherish your friendship.
Safe travels and enjoy the journey.
Your pal Neil