Montgomery Wayne Seitz
July 28, 1969 – August 27, 2015
Our world will have a little less laughter without Montgomery Wayne in
it. Born to Shelia Kay Jenkinson Cooper
and Charles Leslie Seitz, Monty bounced through life with unbridled enthusiasm.
He grew up as a bright, ambitious boy with a wide circle of friends. He loved
sports and played basketball, baseball and football before graduating from Jersey
Village High School in 1988.
Monty loved with his whole heart and no one held his heart more
tightly than Stephanie Wiley. They met in 1992 and within a year, Monty
and Stephanie shared a name, a home and a son -- Fallon Wayne. Soon came
their wide-eyed beauty, Taylor Wiley and the Seitz family set out for
greatness, armed with little more than blind ambition and a few connections in
the mattress business.
They made a great team, and together opened four Capitol Mattress
stores throughout Austin. After a decision to make a small town life, they sold
the Austin stores and opened All Star Furniture on Hwy. 71 in Bastrop.
Together, Monty and Stephanie spent their days selling beds, telling
jokes, carting kids and clinging to their commitment to each other through married
life.
Stephanie held his heart, but it was his kids that fueled Monty’s
passion for life. Every customer that
walked through the door heard about Taylor and Fallon. He coached their childhood basketball teams
and as they excelled, he juggled business and family to drive countless hours
to watch them play. He carefully kept every
one of Taylor’s newspaper clips featuring her basketball prowess. Monty was overcome with pride when Fallon
recently graduated from UT with honors.
To Monty, Taylor and Fallon were the
best things he had ever done in his life – not the business, not the comedy, not even fighting for his wife's care. At times, the only thing that
made him truly happy was the joy of his wonderfully successful, beautiful and
strong children. They will forever be the cornerstone of his legacy.
A sharp mind and a quick wit, Monty thirsted to know about everything
that caught his attention. His brain never stopped and he generated ideas
like an engine generates heat. He
literally believed he could do anything.
Monty saw reality as a
minor hindrance to achieving his dream, no matter how
ridiculous or pointless that dream looked like to those around him. He
was a dreamer but mostly, Monty was a doer.
He had a grueling work ethic and applied every ounce of persistence to
whatever he did from selling bean bag chairs to honing his comedy craft, Monty
did everything full force, without apology and without hesitation. He was a true hustler. He did whatever
it took, even it meant doing it ass backward and at the last minute. Then
he quietly got up the next day, hugged the hell out of every bit of luck he had
and did it again.
Monty never had a lot, but he always had enough to share. He was 420-24/7-365. He loved
watching hours of B-movies, writing screenplays, investigating time travel and eventually, he loved to stand in the spotlight on a dark stage to lay bare everything he
feared and fought for just to get a laugh.
Monty turned to comedy for relief from dark years struggling to accept his wife's tragic injuries after a car accident. .On stage, Monty could be The Outlaw, The Cosmic Cowboy for whom reality didn't exist. A longtime volunteer for SXSW, the Moondance Festival, ACL and anything else he could talk his way into, Monty made his stage wherever he went. Austin Comedy embraced Monty and through that connection he found a new spring of energy. Comedy saved Monty when he really needed it and knowing that his hope was so far-reaching and impactful to so many, helps to lessen the hard blow of losing him. We're not the same without him, but he's still with us. You'll find him floating on a cloud of smoke through the festival crowd, calling Where My Outlaws At?
Monty turned to comedy for relief from dark years struggling to accept his wife's tragic injuries after a car accident. .On stage, Monty could be The Outlaw, The Cosmic Cowboy for whom reality didn't exist. A longtime volunteer for SXSW, the Moondance Festival, ACL and anything else he could talk his way into, Monty made his stage wherever he went. Austin Comedy embraced Monty and through that connection he found a new spring of energy. Comedy saved Monty when he really needed it and knowing that his hope was so far-reaching and impactful to so many, helps to lessen the hard blow of losing him. We're not the same without him, but he's still with us. You'll find him floating on a cloud of smoke through the festival crowd, calling Where My Outlaws At?
1 comment:
This is a beautiful tribute, Julie.
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