My First 24 Hours with Big Ed

The opening scene:

THE END BY THE DOORS

Hotel room in Manila:

ZOLOT (v.o.)

"Manila. Shit I'm only in Manila. Every time, I think I'm gonna wake up back in the jungle."

When I think about the first time I met Ed Murley, my mind immediately goes to Apocalypse Now. It's the chaos of an Asian capital. It's the quick-cut edits, the flashes of seedy alleyways, dense jungle, and smoky bars. It's the thrill and terror of an unknown adventure with unknown outcomes and questionable characters. It's a life-changing moment that started with a jarring howl.

"Zeeeeee-Brah" came bellowing out of the beast's mouth as he threw open the hotel door at 4am. He howled like a Yeti ready to pounce on his prey. I'd come to learn that Ed entered every room with such vigor. I jumped from my slumber.

"Who is it?" I said in a groggy fog of three hours, post-flight startled shock. "It's Big Ed Murley, Zeeeee-Brah. Just got in."

Now I'm not known to be the most personable fella when awoken in the middle of the night. Especially after a long flight, jet-lagged in a dark and quiet hotel slumber. Most people avoid this side of me. Murley was poking the bear. He didn't know me, yet. This was our first ever meeting. I saw his silhouette in the doorway, backlit by the fluorescent hall lights. He was a mountain of a human — filled the entire doorway. I could almost make out the pattern of a Hawaiian shirt.

"Take the other room, it's empty," I offered, tossing him the key card. With unbroken enthusiasm, I swore he gave me a Skipper to Gilligan line: "Sounds good, little buddy." The door shut and the energy dissipated. It must have been a dream.

The next morning I woke up late but refreshed. The rest of the crew were arriving today. We were in the Philippines to celebrate the Millennium on a private island off the coast of Palawan. An international cadre of misfits having a round-the-clock party to ring in the end of the world. Our group was going to have an adventure before we met the other 90 souls at Coco Loco. A few days on Panay and then kayak down the coast of Palawan to the island. Sarah, Ribsey, and Cori were friends from San Francisco. Big Ed was their college friend who flew in from Honolulu.

A knock at the door. "Zeeeeeee-Brah, you up?" Freshly showered with a clean floral shirt, he entered red-faced, breathing heavy, immediately comfortable in his space. While Ed was a big boy, there was a handsomeness to his face, bolstered by a confident, knowing glimmer in his eye. He cleaned up well. He made you uncomfortable and totally at ease at the same time. You never knew what was next, and yet he seemed very predictable. He dispensed with any pleasantries and looked at me. "The girls and Ribsey don't arrive for a few hours. Let's go see Manila."

I had spent some time in Manila. I knew what she was capable of. He seemed like he was down for pushing the edges. So we head out. We got into a tuk-tuk in front of the hotel and instructed the driver to take us to some real food. Not the tourist shit, real. We sped off into the chaotic streets, darting and weaving for about 20 minutes. Ed and I gawked at the sights and shared those pleasantries we missed. "Good flight?" "Your work in…" "You know so and so…"

We ended up in a legit place. Plastic chairs, lots of noise, roosters running around. Greasy Filipino food. Exactly what was needed. The driver hung around. He seemed to know there was more in the honey pot. After we ate he called us over. "You want to go to the casino?" "Not really," we answered. "I work there and special game for you to play." We were curious. He said he would take us to meet his friend and we'd learn how to do it and could win some big money. Again, curious. Not serious, but we kinda had to see what this was.

He drove us 30 minutes to his village. Deep within the city, it was a shanty with tin roofs, dirt roads, goats wandering. Not the Manila for most tourists. I felt comforted having a Yeti to protect me. He sat us at a table and disappeared into a shack. He came back with some friends or family and started explaining the scam. He works as a dealer. We'd come and play a game and he'd front the money. He'll make sure we win and afterwards we'll split the cash. "No risk, big money."

We politely declined saying it wasn't worth the risk. He started to put more pressure. This is where I first saw the power of Big Ed's charisma and stature. He made it clear that we weren't interested, but somehow turned the conversation to women. Conversations with Ed often turned to women. The man loved women. Most men love women, but Ed's love of women was something to behold. He had a voracious appetite, yet a teddy-bear charm. No matter the state of disarray he found himself in, Murley could charm the pants off your sister, your mother, and their friends. Soon the driver was back in the tuk-tuk taking us to meet his sister.

We landed at a shopping center, and while enticed by the promise of a sister, we took the opportunity to slip away, duck into a taxi, and head back to the hotel just in time to meet Sarah, Cori, and Ribsey. They had just gotten in from the states and were settling in. Without a word between us, we knew that what had just transpired was not public fodder. This was when I started to understand that Ed and I were kindred spirits.

It was early evening and the consensus was that they would crash out to ready for our transit day tomorrow to Panay. Ribsey wasn't feeling well, or he might have joined the boys for round two. Ed and I were back out on the street. Something was different this time. He had the devil in his eye. I've come to know that look since. He gets it frequently. "Zeeeee-Brah," he said. "Let's go meet some girls."

Our taxi driver was eager to accommodate. "I know where to take you," he said confidently. Within minutes we were whisked inside a bustling bar with dozens of pretty girls milling about. As soon as we sat down, we were engulfed by them. Ed smiled heartily. "This must be the place, Zeeeeee-Brah." We grabbed a couple of beers and reveled in the attention. Weeding through the mass of sweet lovelies, we each found our soulmates. Seriously, we fell in love and cared for them the rest of our lives. Yup. Or maybe not. Use your imagination.

This was December of 1999. Ed passed away a couple of weeks ago and it hit me hard. I've known Ed 26 years and some change. I'd like to say this first encounter was exceptional. It was for the specifics, but it was spot-on as a template for the Tasmanian Devil experience he stirred up wherever he went. What followed was a friendship I will treasure for a lifetime. We had adventures, far and wide, in the mountains, in Vegas, Paso Robles, and Hawaii. He had a passion for cooking that brought us even closer. Most people didn't know that side of him. The Big Kahuna was actually a culinary obsessive. Go figure. I learned a lot about how to not give a fuck from Big Ed. I learned how to squeeze the juice out of life from him.

There was an unspoken call to arms when Big Ed was in town. For me, it usually began with a swinging door, some heavy breathing, a huge devilish grin, and a shout of "Zeeeee-Brah."