A Tribute to Neil Muncy

Visiting Neil at home was always an interesting experience.  Invariably you’d go home well fed, enlightened on some technical detail – and when the season was right with a basketful of fresh tomatoes and basil.

Following the meals we would often adjourn to the home theatre, called the “fun room” in Neil-speak and either listen to some tunes or watch some TV.  For someone who’s artistic sensibilities ran heavily to Jazz Neil had a fondness for NASCAR that was a bit out of character.  I watched a few races with him and he always had some insight into the effects that were added to the image or some other detail of the production.  He didn’t make a big deal of the fact that he had consulted to NASCAR, he just enjoyed the fun.

His ability to coin amusing expressions that would not have sounded out place in a Milton Berle monologue was legendary.  My favourite was his description of the ready-made gazebo he had in his yard as a “ga-cheapo”.

When he became confined to a wheelchair I built a plywood ramp so he could come over to my place for a meal or celebration.  He was here for Christmas one year and attended a couple of parties too.  That ramp was designed to perform double duty, I built it with folding legs attached so it could double as a long table.  I still have it in the garage set up as a work table.

It was sometime in the mid 1990s. I had this big project out in Victoria, B.C. We had an acoustic scale model built for the renovation of the Royal Theatre.  It took up the space of an entire office, here in Toronto.  The conductor, the architect and some members of the board of directors were due on Monday morning to review what we had done.  The pressure was on.  But I was alone in the office on a Saturday afternoon and couldn’t get anything to work.  The 15,000 V spark source crashed my computer every time I snapped a spark.  I called Neil, he invited me up to his house and, although even then, he was having trouble moving around, he saved my bacon.

Saved my bacon big time.

Neil, the guru of grounding, put together an aluminium foil shield around our pre-amp that gave us 10 dB (or more) isolation from the spark source EMI.  With that I was able to move forward and by Monday everything was fine.

Neil was a kind, intelligent and gentle man.  He was always good to me.

I shall never forget him.

Neil and I met in Washington in ’61 when we both were just getting started “in the business.” We would go to a bar on Wisconsin Avenue named

the Zebra Room and order separate pitchers of beer.

Among his many accomplishments was to build the console for studio A2 at A & R (he built a second console for studio R2), The first official

session in that studio included the Guess Who’s “These Eyes.”

I could go on but to me he was unquestionably the best systems man in the business. A lovable curmudgeon, he is greatly missed.

I don’t have much on my plate to remember Neil by, but I do remember very much his glowing endorsement of the surge protector that could tame even horrific input transients, and suffer absolutely no degradation.  He was involved in its development, possibly its principal designer.

Some years ago I set the parts aside to make one of these, and especially the inductor is quite challenging to make.  The parts just sat there for some years and inevitably were forgotten until recently
when I decided to finish the project, about a month before Neil died.

I have found the parts and it is now something I must finish, partly as a tribute to him.

I shook hands with Neil Muncy at the first Toronto AES section’s Overview in 1986.

Based on that encounter, I cheekily used his name as a reference on a job application for a teaching position, and the university called Neil.

He then called me, and said that we needed to do lunch… he drove to where I was working, we had lunch, and he recommended me for the job.  He became my life-long mentor and friend.

That’s the kind of guy Neil was.

I have a few stories I will leave until I can share them at the Tribute (now I remember why tequila is my preferred drink, when I do, which is not very often.) One was a night I was at his house with my husband and our daughter. Neil was working with Modulation Sciences, and had been showing SpiderVision to anyone he could drag into the ‘fun room’.

That evening, John was doing some framing in the basement. Neil and I were upstairs, I was crocheting on the couch, he was watching sports and my daughter was having a tantrum and wanted to watch cartoons. Neil found a compliant station running cartoons (kinda funny, because we’d been discussing how few there were over dinner…i guess this was in late 05-06).

He then proceeded to hook up SpiderVision and basically did a whole presentation…to my 6 year old…with cartoons in the background as an example. I fell asleep on his couch that night, Deirdre on the floor with Sneakers. The men were up yacking half the night, and my husband (John ‘Skully’ McIntosh, bass tech for Geddy Lee of Rush) learned a lot from Neil that has helped him as an amp and guitar tech.

I also remember Neil noticing me flirting once when he was presenting a paper at the AES San Fran Convention back in 91/92? (hey, I took my opportunities where they came) Being the coy, don’t-miss-a-trick guy he was, I wound up somehow steered into a social situation that evening which included Neil….and the guy I was sharing go-go eyes with…and we ended up dating briefly until life took him across the border, off the continent and out of my clutches. haha. Neil was at my wedding, and shortly afterwards, when John was going over there a lot with me and helping him in the basement, Neil said something to me like, “I always thought you and Paul would have been an excellent match, but I think you and John were made for each other. I really like that guy”. That meant a lot to me. Bizarrely, I met John through Martin Van Dijk, who I met through Neil and Dave Clark.

Neil was also the one who encouraged me (and was my reference) when I applied at Adamson. I wasn’t going to because of the history Brock and I had (I punched him in a bar during an EAW party one year – others can tell *that* story). But Neil was like, “So what? You think the guys don’t have situations like that? I’ve pissed off thousands of people. I wouldn’t let that stop me.”

(You can use those I guess, for the tribute, or send this reply on to anyone (Neil’s friends who might get a kick out of those stories) wondering about my times and 20+ year friendship with Neil).

thanks for this opportunity.

I saw Neil several times over the past few months, most recently with Phil Giddings at Neil’s home in Markham. It was apparent that he was in great distress from the pain in his leg, and it was frustrating that we couldn’t do anything for him in that regard, except to urge his personal care workers to call in competent medical attention for him.

Shortly after that, he left me a voice mail, starting by stating the time and date of his call. Uncertain of the date, he said–in typical Neil fashion–“Today is whatever tomorrow was yesterday.”

That’s how I will remember him, witty and sharp to the end. That, and his recommendation on how best to deal with the Pin-1 issue in my mic preamp.

Neil and I were planning the pilot of a talk and music show to pitch to Jazz-FM, based on his experiences as a fly on the wall during a number of classic recording sessions in the 1960s. In order to block out the script, we worked through some mock interviews in his audio room, in which Neil held forth on the goings on in the studio with various artists, including (if I remember correctly) Stan Getz and Sammy Davis Jr.

While far from studio quality, the audio recordings of those interviews contain some priceless “Neil moments.” The show may not go on, but it’s fitting that the technology that he worked so hard to perfect will ensure that Neil’s voice will continue to be heard: I’ll post that material online when I get back to Toronto, and will copy the link to everyone on this list.

I sure will miss him. Neil Muncy–one of a kind. Plus or minus 3dB of course.

Neil Muncy accomplished so much through others as he was a natural team builder and a positive catalyst for change.  His enthusiasm to solve problems kept him ever vigilant for potential matches of like-minded individuals that could work together to achieve their engineering and research challenges and dreams.

The synergistic bonds forged by Neil not only contributed to amplified team effectiveness but also many wonderful friendships and experiences.

His influence and friendship will be treasured forever.