Charlie Deal...Toilet Seat Charlie just passed away

Charlie will be missed…even by those who only knew him a little. He was one of a kind.

I first met Charlie Deal in Mill Valley.
It was 1971 and I was living with John Cipollina up on King Street. John and I were wandering around town while he introduced me to some of his old Mill Valley friends. We had just left John Goddard at Village Music, bought some ammunition over at Varney’s Hardware, and were walking out of Sonapa Farms when we bumped into this small, ragged, preoccupied looking guy who flew at John like some sort of mad scientist. He was carrying what looked to me like an old toilet seat with a piece of wood sticking out of it. I instantly recognized that it was almost certainly going to become some sort of “Toilet Seat Guitar”.

I was completely fascinated by this concept, which seemed so perfectly obvious, and yet completely weird and out there at the same time. It was very cool…as was Charlie, a true eccentric and an original. I couldn’t help pondering whether the toilet seat was brand new, or old and well-used…I suppose this was important for me to know for some reason.

Charlie was full of enthusiasm and animatedly poured over the design details of his latest creation. They were definitely creations; each toilet seat instrument he made was unique and had its own character…and yes, they actually played. Charlie was not just a wonderful, colorful character, he was not just a fixture of old Mill Valley, every bit as much as the Redwood trees, Sonapa Farms, or the Old Mill Tavern…he was an artist. His toilet seat guitars were works of art that tweaked the imagination.

The last time I bumped into Charlie was at a recent Sweetwater show I played. In later years, I was drawn to him when I saw him in the audience…he was usually alone and quietly sitting off to the side on a bar stool. To me, he always seemed like a solitary beacon from the past, shining out a light of the way things used to be. We had a nice little chat together--his body looked frail and failing as he rested on his walking stick, but his spirit was strong, and he asked me if I would join him on an upcoming Mill Valley day parade float. But as luck would have it, I was out of town that day. Joining Charlie on that float was something I really wanted to do. Too late now.

Mill Valley is still a great place to live…but it will never be the same now that the stalwart holdouts of an older, more diverse Mill Valley have finally fallen under the relentless hand of time and change: Village Music, Sweetwater, and now Charlie. I think they should erect a bronze statue in the middle of the town square. It should show a slightly bent over Charlie Deal enthusiastically showing a slim, sharply dressed, slightly hunched over, long haired John Cipollina, rock n roll gunslinger, bat guitar slung around his neck, his latest toilet seat guitar. I always meant to buy one from him…too late now.

Things will never quite be the same again without Charlie there to help anchor us down to some of the more colorful aspects of old Mill Valley--downtown taken over by all day rock concerts, all night eating at Pat & Joe’s. It belongs to a new generation now, and it will be just as wonderful and colorful to them as it was to us, and they will also one day look back and reminisce about the good old days…it’s the way things are.

Say hello to John and Mark for me will you Charlie.

Pete Sears