A Fictional Account of a Young Musician Attempting to "Live a Jazz Life"

 

In the last twenty years, Music Schools have graduated hundreds of students. Most of them get degrees in performance arts and graduate to be released into the world or they go on to earn their masters and on to their doctorates.

In the fifties, up to the mid-seventies, early eighties, the only music degrees available were in classical music. With a resurgence of jazz, colleges and universities began hiring jazz musicians to develop jazz courses. Now you can't teach in higher education schools unless you have a Doctorate in music. Many of the professors who teach don't have the experience needed to be great jazz teachers. They have the knowledge to teach advanced harmony and theory but in reality, they never put this knowledge to practical use. Sometimes it's better to study privately with a great teacher than go to a college or university unless you want a degree to teach.
This is a narrative between a Student (guitarist) and his/.her teacher

Student: "I want to be a jazz musician."

Teacher: "Do you have any idea what it means to, first of all, be a full-time musician but a jazz musician"?

Student: "No, but I love music and I want to major in music in college. I've applied to the Berklee School of music. Manhattan School of Music, Julliard and the New School in New York City. I am hoping to get in one of them and study Jazz,"

Teacher: " Besides having good marks in high school you will have to audition. You will have to perform a solo guitar piece, some sight. reading, playing with a rhythm section, improvisation, and an oral question and answer test"?

Student: "Yes. That's why I'm telling you. I want you to prepare me for it. I have six months to get ready."

Teacher: "Are you willing to work hard and even though you are still in high school? You will have to practice at least three hours a day and still keep up with your schoolwork. It will mean giving up video games, going out with your friends, a very little TV, and using your weekends to practice eight to ten hours a day. Don't you have a girlfriend"?

Student: "Yes."

Teacher: "Do you think she is ready for this? Is she willing to cut down on the amount of time you spend together"?

Student: "I don't know."

Teacher: "Well, you better ask her."

The following week at his guitar lesson .

Student: "I spoke to my girlfriend and she said she is willing to try."

Teacher: "Ok. Let's get started."

The student sits poised and ready.

Teacher:" First of all, you have to name, recite and play all the major keys including all three related minor scales using the whole guitar neck for next week. You will be tested."

The teacher puts on the music stand a simple melody ( Smile-key of F-one flat ) and tells the student to sight-read it.

The teacher counts off a medium tempo.

The student begins to play and when it comes to the B-flat he plays a B natural. The teacher stops him and asks: "Did you read the key signature? "No," says the student.

Teacher: "Ok take this song home and when you come back, be able to play it in time and in the second, fifth, and seventh positions and then play the melody an octave higher in any position you like. Make sure you learn the jazz chords that go with it."

This goes on for five months. Every week the teacher gives him a lesson that will improve his musicianship. Going into the sixth month the student is playing chord melodies and reading tunes like Donna Lee and many of the Bebop standards. His improvising has immensely improved.

His audition dates are set and off he goes.

A few months later he hears from all the schools he applied to. He is accepted by all of them. He calls his teacher with the good news and asks: Which should I choose"? The teacher tells him to look at the teaching staff and who he will be studying guitar with. The student says ": I don't know." The teacher tells him to send me the list of teachers in all the schools. When the teacher gets the list he realizes that all the schools have good teachers, and some have heavy-hitters. He calls the student and tells him so. He also adds: "you have to decide what city you want to live in." The student thinks about it and decides he wants to live in New York City and go to Julliard.

Four years later the student graduates and has a degree in Performing Arts. Two years prior the girlfriend breaks up with him, knowing he will probably stay in NY and she does not want to move from her hometown. Throughout his education, he has stayed in touch with his former teacher. On graduation day he calls his teacher and says: " I have graduated and I am officially a Jazz Musician." The teacher congratulates him tells him, he isn't a jazz musician till he lives a jazz life

Student: "What do you mean? I have a degree that says I'm a jazz musician."

Teacher: "How many jazz gigs have you played? "Do you have your own sound?" Do you think your education is over because it has only just begun? Do you intend to stay in New York City? If so, how will you support yourself? Do you have a place to live? You know you have to be heard in order to maybe get some gigs and if you're lucky, maybe someone will hire you. You need to hang out at different venues and be seen. Maybe form your own group and play standards and original music, but most importantly you have to have your own style and sound and use good musicians. While all that is happening, you will have to get a day job to support yourself. This may go on for years. You never know. Meanwhile, you still have to practice and develop. All the young guitarists started like you. I remember seeing and hearing that many of the well-known guitarists that you know now played door gigs in order to play and that's still going on."

"Read their bios and see what they did. Read other bios not just guitarists. Research! Jazz life is not easy. It takes a lot of effort and determination to live like that and in the long run, you may not get the recognition you deserve" .

A few years later the student calls his ex-teacher and tells him he's making a living as a musician but he is playing club dates. The teacher says : "that's great, what clubs are you working in? The student responds and says: "you don't understand. Club dates in NYC are like Casuals in other cities. Weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, Dances, Birthdays, Engagement parties. Most of the music we play is pop or rock. The only time we play anything jazz-like is at cocktail hours. Some of these musicians are not very good., I hate playing this music. After a gig, I go home and practice to get rid of that Aura that surrounds me. This is not the life I was hoping for. Maybe I'll go back to school and get my Master's in Education and teach in school." The teacher responds. I'm sorry but you have to do what you have to do."

The student does go back to school and gets a Master in Education.

He finds a job teaching music in an NYC public school system. He sends his teacher an email and tells him of his progress, but he is still playing club dates on the weekends. He does have his own jazz trio and every once in a while he books a gig with his trio at some local club or venue. They are door-gigs but he pays the musicians out of his own pocket. He keeps the door money. Slowly he begins to hate his teaching job. The kids really don't want music classes and are hard to handle and he spends most of his time disciplining them.

He has made some demos of his trio to send out to club owners and record companies. Most do not respond. He decides to put out a recording under his newly created record company. He doesn't realize the cost of such a production, especially if it is done right. A good recording studio will cost him $150 an hour or more. He will need, at minimum, three hours to record and probably another four to five hours to mix and master. Approximate cost $1500. Payment to his musicians, $1000.

Production costs which would include a master CD and about 100 CDS to send out to Agents and Radio Stations, that's another $800. He could also put it up on Bandcamp, but some radio stations will not play downloads and the same for jazz journalists. He made need a publicist to handle the promotion. He starts calling some publicists to get prices They tell him he may need a radio person too because they have a list and contact information for radio stations throughout the world. Before he knows it cost has grown tremendously. He will need about $10, 000, to do it right. The question is can he afford it? Is the investment worth it? Am I worth it? Where will I get the money? He says to himself, "I have 4000 friends on Facebook. I'll have a fundraiser. I will just ask for $5.00 apiece and I will guarantee them a copy of the recording.

He begins rehearsals. He puts a fundraiser on Facebook. He sends out hundreds of emails asking for donations to his fundraiser. A month goes by and he has raised $3000. He is disappointed. He puts another fundraiser on Facebook and sends out more emails. In three months' time, he raises around $8000. He doesn't think he will be able to get more. He thinks to himself: " I'll have to cut corners." He asks his musicians if they will do it for a little less. He talks to both radio and publicists people if they can give him a break? Everyone agrees. He now has the money and cooperation of everyone involved. A month later the project is completed. The publicists and radio persons get their CD and payment. He finds a distributor and he sets a release date for a month later.

He finds a venue to have a CD release party. He sends out tons of emails inviting friends, agents, and New York City-based journalists and radio people. He charges $10 at the door except for agents and such. The night of the party, the band was on fire and the audience's reaction to the music was great He was very happy. He also was able to recoup some of the money spent. Now the real work begins. Booking the group, getting radio and press interviews, and talking to agents. Realizing that reviews of his recording may take up to three months to be seen, he uses that time to practice and rehearse his group. He is finally living the jazz life, so he thinks.

He did get radio play around the country. His radio person sent him a report on what stations in what cities he was getting played. He sent the list to the agents he knew, but he thought he should do some research on his own. In each city, he found a venue or a club he might be able to book. He contacted each and every one of them, hoping to book a tour. He was getting very little response for his effort. Finally, some of the venue owners contacted him, but they were all door gigs, with the owners getting half of the money and the venues were so far apart in cities and dates that it was impossible for him to accept. So he waited for the reviews to come out. A few months later they come out but magazines like Downbeat didn't give him a review and by the time the other reviews came out, the radio play came down to a trickle.

Angry and depressed, he knew he had to make some decisions. Should I keep doing what he's doing? Continue teaching in a public school and play on club dates on weekends and every once in a while play a jazz gig or should he pack up and go home and teach there and try and play some jazz gigs in his home down? It was a depressing and hard decision to make.

What will he do? What should he do? Coming Soon: A Jazz Life? Part II

Contemplating Loss

 

Lately, even though my cancer has gone into remission and I’ve been able to build a nice online teaching practice, I ask myself why have I been so depressed? Thinking about this I realized I must feel a profound sense of loss.

 

The first time I actually felt loss was when my grandmother, Angelina  De Rosa, passed away. I was 20 years old. Grandma was the matriarch of the family on my mother’s side. I adored my grandmother. As a child, whenever my mother would visit her, I always tagged along. When in  high school I would visit her on my own because school was only four blocks away. When I was twenty I was waiting for a new car to be delivered from the dealer when she went into the hospital. A few weeks later the car came and I was the designated driver for my mother and her sisters. It was the first time I visited her. She was in a coma.

 

I said to her “hello Grandma”. She came out of the coma and asked , “ did you get your new car?” I answered, “yes”, and she went back into the coma. It was the only time she woke up .

A few days later she died. Instead of feeling loss, I was angry and it lasted a few years.

 

Then my Aunt Mildred suddenly died when a blood vessel in her brain burst. We were all in shock. I was very close to her and her children. She would babysit my brother when my mother went back to work and as a teenager I spent my summers in Huntington Long Island with them. Loss

My Aunt Christiana died  after that. She was matriarch after my grandmother. Loss. As children  we spent every Saturday night at her house. While the parents played polka, the kids ( my cousins) would play together. To this day I am grateful for that time because my cousins and I are still very close. Christina’s son Victor died shortly after that. Loss

 

 

My Aunt Ameilia  died a while back and the truth is I don't remember why, but it was a shock to the family as well as my Uncle Frank. He died of lung cancer. Because he serve in the army during World War II, he was given a Veteran's burial with a four gun salute. It was very impressive but I still felt horrible when he died and I sometimes think of him whenever I shave. He taught and gave me my first shave when I was 13 years old. Loss.

 

 

Then in December, 1976, my father died. That night staying at my mother’s house I was trying to sleep but I couldn’t stop crying when suddenly I heard my father say to me ,“ go to sleep Dom, go to sleep”. The next thing I knew it was the next morning. For months I could feel my father’s presence. Loss. About three months later I knew he was gone. I hardly ever feel him now and its’ been 42 years.

 

After my father the next devastating loss was my cousin Vera.

Vera was absolutely beautiful.  Both my mother and I adored her Whenever I would take my mother to visit her sister Florence I would visit with Vera who lived upstairs. Carol and I visited her when she was at Roosevelt hospital for a special operation for Pancreatic cancer. Although she was 66 years old, she looked like she did when she was 28.  When she died I couldn’t stop weeping. It was like I was saying goodbye to part of my childhood.

 

The next big loss was my mother. Oddly enough  even though my brother and I  were at her bedside when she died, it brutally affected me then.  I hardly felt her around  after her passing and the loss didn’t last long.

 

When my close friend, pianist Dennis Moorman died it was a shock. Dennis and I were friends and musical partners since the mid-eighties.  We created some great music together. Dennis was on dialysis for years. The first time he had a kidney transplant he almost died. 20 years later he decided to have another one. His wife Linette called and said he was in the hospital. Carol and I rushed to see him. He looked great. He was happy and smiling.

 

The next day Linette called and told us the transplant didn’t work and Dennis had died. Linette spoke to Carol first. She was concerned how it would affect me since I had open heart surgery a few months before. It affected me badly. At the wake and at the burial I was beside myself bawling like a child. That feeling stayed for a while, but eventually I settled down, but I miss him and our music and our conversations. He once said he considered me “one of the brothers”. Loss.

 

My Aunt Virginia died a few years ago. It was a shock that lasted a long time. My Aunt Virginia, my Uncle Tony and me would take my mother to see her oncologist every few months.

We actually had a good time and it was nice being together.

After my mother died I would speak to my aunt Virginia every week or every other week just to see how she was doing. It kept me close to the family. All my Aunts and Uncles and some cousins are gone and I miss them all. Loss.

There have been other losses throughout the years. My cousin Donna died a few years ago and it was a hard one to handle. She was the first one to meet my wife Carol because she picked us up at the train station to go to an anniversary party. Loss

 

I’ve been fortunate throughout my life having many friends, but 'best friends' is another story.  One of my best friends is Mitchell May. We met on the worse musical  job in the city.

That’s a whole another story. Mitchell ( bass) and I formed a duo and a trio with another friend, drummer Tony Lupo who I met in 1962 and stayed friends till his death 3 years ago.  The two or three of us would rehearse at Mitchell’s apartment every week where I got to know his wife Judith and his best friend Jerry. Jerry eventually married Dorothy and we all became good friends. Then Jerry died-loss. Next was Dorothy-loss, but the biggest loss was Judith. Till this day  Mitchell feels the loss and I feel it through him.

 

When my childhood friend, Joe Mattera, decided not to have dialysis  for treatment of his failing kidneys I knew it would be days if not hours before he died. Joe was my childhood big brother.

 

 He taught me how to play sports and he was my biggest musical fan. He had all my recordings and when he came back to visit his daughter in New York City, he always made sure we could get together. When I was asked to say something at his zoom memorial, I wrote two pages about our friendship but I was too upset to read it. My wife Carol took over for me. I was also asked to record a Monk tune for him which I did. They used the music for background as photographs of Joe throughout his lifetime were shown. Loss

My wife, Carol’s  mother passed and I was in the room when her father died and a year ago her brother passed. I still feel her pain and a sense of loss. 

Throughout the years many of my musician friends have passed giving me a sense of loss, but none has affected me as much as the recent last four.

 

 

Five months ago, my wife’s best friend, Ann Ratray passed away.

Ann ( actor, teacher and former Miss Rhode Island and winner of the the Miss Congeniality at the Miss America contest) and Carol were best  friends since they were teenagers. I met Anne in 1989. Both Carol and Ann lived in the same building.

Ann immediately accepted me as part of her family. We celebrated every Christmas Eve together. Her son Devin  (Home Alone’s Buzz) took guitar lessons from me and Luke photographed me for my press kit and her husband, Peter and I have been good friends for years and he cuts my hair once a month. 

 

When Ann got sick, she was eventually bedridden for months and then one afternoon Luke (her oldest son) called and said the end was near. Carol and I went downstairs, but Ann was hanging on. We left  to have  a quick dinner but Luke called and said Anne had passed. 

Both Carol and I went downstairs and we saw Ann, lying in her pink robe, gone. It’s an image that stays with me all the time. Loss

 

 

 

A few weeks later we had to put to sleep our cat Cole. The year before his brother Trane died. Both of our cats were like our children. We literally spent thousands on Trane to save him, but nothing worked and a year later Cole had the same affliction. We had a choice. Go the same route we did with Trane or just let his suffering end. We chose the latter. But I still feel him constantly around. A few times I called out to him. He slept my arms every night. The pain of watching him die was horrible and I haven’t let go yet. Loss

 

 

Then a few weeks later my best friend of 78 years Frank Montella, passed away. We grew up together. Our Mother's pushed us in baby carriages as they took their daily walks. We were always there for each other.  Frank served as a Medic in Vietnam. After his service he became a loud voice for the Vets Against The War.  The hole in my heart has not healed and I feel him every day. Loss

 

 

 Pat Martino,  Legendary Jazz Guitarist died three weeks ago.

 Pat and I were friends since 1976. Besides being friends he was an inspiration to me and thousands.  Although I knew it was coming, for he had  been sick for 3 years, his death hit me like a ton of bricks and I constantly feel him around. Loss

 

Anne, Cole, Frank and Pat: I walk with them inside me everyday and I hurt. If it had been months or even a year between their passing I think I would have handled it better, but practically all at once is too much. I find myself welling up with tears and hurting. In fact ( I'm not ashamed to admit) writing this has me in tears.

Realizing the root of my depression I thought it would somehow ease my pain, but it only reminds me why I’m so depressed. As the old adage says:

 

 Time heals all things. Hopefully, in time this will be true.

Dom Minasi

How Do You Say Goodbye?

 

How do you say goodbye to a friend of 78 years? Someone who was more than a friend. So many memories from childhood to adulthood.

As children we were always getting into trouble together. Like the time my mother chased me around the block because Frank and I rode our tricycles up a hill four blocks away from home. When she finally caught me I said : “I want Frank” and she said “ Frank can watch you get a beating”. Or the time when we were teenagers and Frank showed up with a Halloween cake with all kinds of trinkets on it and we proceeded to eat the “whole thing”. Then there was a time in the 90’s when we were roommates for a while and we would argue over the Rolling Stones. He loved them and I hated them.

At one point Frank moved to Los Angeles to follow his dream of being a working actor. Blaise Siwula and I had a gig at the Knitting Factory West and Frank brought all his friends to hear us play and later on he said to me:

“Dom…what the F was that?” When Frank moved back to NY he still showed up at my gigs even though he immensely disliked the music.

 

I was there when he got a divorce and how painful it was for him . I was there through all his girlfriends that never seemed to last. 

 

I couldn’t be there when he died. I knew it was coming . It was 3 weeks ago that they discovered the cancer had spread to his lungs.. I knew he wouldn't be with us much longer. The last time we spoke he could hardly catch his breath.

 

He was put in Hospice Home Care . The visiting nurse started giving him morphine for pain. He went into a kind of a coma. I called his sister Lucy ( who has been an Angel through all this) and I asked her to put the phone by his ear. She handed the phone to June another long time friend of Franks', and I told him how much I loved him and I will see him soon. June told me told me he actually responded to my voice and smiled. 

 

I could feel Frank’s presence all around me and then he died a few hours after I had spoken to him. I can’t describe the pain I felt. Part of me was gone. Later that night I spoke to his sister and she told me she couldn’t believe how many friends he had around the world. I could believe it.

Frank was a person who gave and protected. He never thought twice about helping someone.

After his service in Vietnam as a Medic, he became an EMS worker. There were so many times I would be walking down the street and I would hear a siren and it would be Frank. He would give me lift or the many times I would be on a gig and he would be outside sitting in the ambulance waiting for the next call.

While he was in Los Angeles , struggling to work as an actor he decided to go back to school and became a nurse.

Frank had so many stories to tell and he would tell them with such humor that he had us all in stitches laughing.

Frank made the world a better place for all he came in contact with.

 

Goodbye Old Friend I’ll love you forever. Till we meet again.

.

Dom.

The Pandemic, Cancer and Jazz

 

 

Before the Pandemic came and showed its ugly face in March 2020,

I was pretty comfortable. I would go out of town two or three times  a year for good paying gigs ( NYC doesn’t have good paying gigs for my music and I won’t play for the door). I had 20 reliable students and my wife would pick up some acting or voice over gigs and I'd released one CD per year.

 

That all changed in a few days. My students did not want to be taught on line. All of a sudden I was down to five students. The out -of- town gigs stopped and a quartet recording  ( WIG) that we rehearsed for  three months was cancelled. Fortunately, I had already recorded my guitar quartet ( Eight Hands One Mind) with Hans Tammen. Harvey Valdez and Briggan Krauss. Thanks  to Hans Tammen, the mix was set and the master was handed into Jack DeSalvo and Unseen Rain Records.   

 

 Then December 2020  rolled around I was diagnosed with salivary cancer.

At first they thought I had lung cancer but more tests revealed it was in my right salivary glad right under my right ear. What to do?

Operate of course and take the cancer out.

 

Easier said then done. It seems most of the cancer lodged itself in my nerve, so they couldn’t get it all out. Meanwhile my surgeon , Dr. Peter Costantino, submitted my findings to a Tumor Board for recommendations.  In the interim I had a new oncologist, Dr. William Grace, who said the best way to fight this is with chemo and radiation.

 

Thirty- six precise radiations by Dr. Lederman and six  weeks of Chemo. At one point because of the Radiation, I lost my voice and  couldn’t teach. Fortunately, it all worked  out and I have been in remission for the three months. It took me a while but I was able to pick of five new students.

It did affect my playing. A side effect of chemo is extreme tiredness. My playing lost a lot but slowly I am getting it back.

 

I am not ready to go on the road again even though I have been vaccinated and I still am not accepting students in my home. I still feel it’s too dangerous out there no matter what the government says.

 

 Because of these doctors who saved my life I composed six new pieces to honor them. Each composition has their last name as a title.

 

Hopefully, maybe by the end of the year, I will be able to get back in the studios and record WIG  and the new quartet too.

 

BTW, the tumor board recommended that the surgeon take out the cancerous nerve which would have left my right side of my face paralyzed and I would dribble. Guess what I told him?

 

Dom Minasi

June 20y^th, 2021

Dom Minasi send you a New Years Greeting

Remembering The Vampire's Revenge

Halloween will be here in a few weeks and I thought it would be fun to repeat a revised version Tales of CBGB’S. Since DTR with myself on guitar Tomas Ulrich on bass and Ratzo Harris  will be performing the music of the Vampire's Revenge re-arranged for trio.
The True Story Behind The Vampire’s Revenge

Once upon a time in New York City, there lived a beautiful Vampire. She was 5’7’’ with long flowing blond hair and beautiful deep blue eyes. One would say she was absolutely stunning. She looked young, although she was reputed to be over 500 years old. Lorna was able to hide her fangs, except when she smiled. By not smiling she was able to add to the allure of being dangerous. mysterious and sexy at the same time Lorna loved music. Every night you could find her at some club either dancing or listening to music.

Our story begins on a Sunday night in October of 2004. In fact it was the Sunday before Halloween that Lorna made her way downtown to the famous now defunct CBGB’S, where she could hear some of the best up and coming rock and roll bands in the country. It was also the number one place to find young new blood to quench her hunger. When she arrived the band hadn’t begun to set up yet, and it looked like it would be a while before they would play. The crowd was just beginning to make its way into the small club. She decided to go next door to the Galleria. Sometimes there were some interesting groups playing, but on this night, again, the band was just starting to set up. She was about to leave when she heard some strange sounds coming from the downstairs lounge. She asked the young man standing at the top of the stairs, "What is that?" He said it was the Sunday night Downstairs Avant Jazz Series. Lorna decided to take a look.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, another young man sitting behind a table, asked her: “Who are you here to hear?” She said: “Anyone.” He said: “That will be $10 please.” Lorna gazed into his eyes with her hypnotic stare and he said: “Go right in.” Lorna went straight to the bar. She sat down and listened to this strange but intriguing music. She thought to herself: “What have I been missing?” Just then a good-looking young musician (he carried a case over his shoulder…it looked like some kind of horn) said to her: “You must be new here. I’ve never seen you here before.” Lorna smiled and said: “Yes I am.” He looked at her beautiful face with that seductive closed lipped smile and Stephen was immediately smitten and very much taken with Lorna, as Lorna was with Stephen. He asked if she could wait till he finished his set and maybe they could hang out together. Lorna anxious for some new blood said: “Of course.”

Later on that evening, at Stephen’s apartment, Lorna began her Seduction. Slowly she enticed him with short sweet kisses along his face and neck. Stephen felt her rapture and was sexually charged as Lorna lay in his arms. Noticing her fangs, he wanted to ask her Who’s Your Dentist? but he didn’t want to break the mood. Lorna spent a lot of time kissing his neck. Then all of a sudden she dug in with her fangs and started to suck the blood right out of him. Shocked at first, he shouted: “No! No!” But then he began to enjoy it. Stephen moaned as he went into a dream like stupor and when she stopped sucking, he cried "No! No! Don’t stop! Just One More Bite."

Lorna decided she would not kill Stephen, but make him a Vampire. That night Stephen went through a Transformation. When he awoke 24 hours later, Lorna explained what she had done to him. He had been brought over to the Dark Side.

Stephen was very upset. All he wanted was to have a great time with this sexy lady and now he was a Vampire and part of the walking un-dead! Lorna explained how great it is to be a Vampire. Now, he could live forever, "but be careful, you must never walk in the daylight. The sun could kill you!"

The only thing that really bothered Stephen was that he could never play a daytime gig again. On the positive side, most of his gigs were at night and he preferred night to day anyway. With daylight savings time in the winter, it would get dark at 4:30, which isn’t so bad. He would have to plan his practice time and feeding and social life around his vampire hours. One thing was for sure, he would have to give up Sunday afternoon brunches with his Mother and adjust his embouchure (the placement of the mouthpiece). Because of his newly formed fangs he would have to learn play without them being too obtrusive. Oh yes! Because of his paleness he might have make some adjustments with tanning block or makeup and definitely wear sunglasses, which would make him look cool!

The very next night Lorna took Stephen out for a stroll. This was his The First Day (night) as a Vampire. Lorna wanted to teach him how to live and survive in his new reality.

His first kill wasn’t as hard as he thought. In fact, it was fun. With his newly found strength and his keen sense of smell and sight, overpowering his victims was easy. He felt just a little guilty about killing, but he told himself it was the only way for him to survive. He would save on grocery bills and never have to go to the bathroom again and he’ll only try to kill bad people. Stephen thought to himself, who could be luckier than I. I can live forever, and play the music I love forever too.

Then he thought to himself, the audience for free-form-avant jazz is getting smaller and smaller. With this new power of mine, what can I do to help change this? Suddenly a light bulb went off in his head, and Stephen knew exactly what he had to do.

“Yes! This makes absolute sense! If I infect hundreds, no, thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of people, and because I am free form- avant jazz musician, these hundreds of thousands of people will love this music and we will finally have the audience we deserve. It could go on through eternity and I’ll never be out of work!” It was at that very moment that the Blood Lust took over.

For the next year, Stephen did not stop. Sometimes he would bite up to thirty people a night. At this rate, in the next ten years, he could infect over 100,000 humans.

For some unknown reason, the audiences at his performances were not getting larger, in fact sometimes only a few people showed up. His plan was not working! What could be going wrong? He thought his idea was just what free-form avant jazz needed, a Blood Sucking Vampire, but it was too late. Because he spent so much time hunting at night, his lust for blood was increasing and he couldn’t stop himself.

The summer of 2005 would go down in infamy. It was reported on Fox News (and we know, they don’t lie); July 9th, that without a doubt there is a Vampire loose in New York City. Someone had seen Stephen devouring a helpless woman in a back alley off of Canal St. This attack was videoed taped. The tape ran on every major news station throughout the world. The woman appeared on CNN, 60 Minutes,Oprah and every TV news outlet in the USA. Each time, with tears in her eyes, she told what she saw and she described the desperation in the victim’s eyes. She called 911, but it was over in less than a minute and by the time the medics arrived, the woman was dead and the vampire had disappeared in a flash.

A frenzy took over New York City. Everyone was searching for the Vampire. Major Bloomberg begged people to stay home and let the police do their job, but The Hunt was on! Days went by and then a month, but without any results. People were scared and frustrated. Stephen had become sloppy. More and more victims were piling up, and yet, no one had seen this Vampire.

The Mayor called for calm and made another special announcement. He had sent for the great ‘Vampire Hunter’. Derek was world-renowned. He made his reputation as a Vampire Hunter by killing over three hundred vampires.

The day the Hunter arrived at JFK from Transylvania, there were thousands of people lined up along the Van Wyck Expressway. Two million showed up for the ticker-tape parade along Broadway. When the entourage of Limo’s pulled up to City Hall, the crowd cheered as the Derek stepped out onto the Red Carpet that led up the stairs where the Mayor welcomed him. In a brief ceremony, Mayor Bloomberg gave Derek the keys to the city. When the Hunter stepped up to the podium he growled and screamed “Vampire! Vampire! Where You Gonna’ Go? Where You Gonna’ Hide?" With that, the crowd went wild. They stormed the steps of City Hall and carried him over their shoulders while shouting, “Where You Gonna’ Go? Where You Gonna’ Hide?”

Three days later the police found Derek’s body ripped to shreds. It was said that a newly engaged couple, while walking down 5th ave and 33rd St., could hear shriveling and screeching yells. It was as though an animal was ripping a human being to shreds. As they walked by, the couple looked at each other and said: “Wow, that sounds strange,” and as typical New Yorkers they continued on their merry way.

A few nights later on the Letterman show, Dave got a call while on the air. At first he wouldn’t take it. In fact he yelled at his staff for trying to put through this called while he was doing his opening monologue, but the producer ran on stage, an apparently whispered in his ear; “It’s the Vampire!” Shocked! Dave took the call, ‘live on the air.’ Of course, NBC and ABC and Fox News were angry that the Vampire would call Letterman  at CBS  especially Jay Leno. It made perfect sense that the Vampire called Dave and not Jay Leno. Jay is in LA and Dave is in New York and New York is where all the killings were going on and NBC had no way of knowing that the Vampire was a fan of the Letterman Show long before he was a Vampire. In fact, he was still felt betrayed that The Tonight Show moved to L.A.

As Letterman put the phone to his ear, he could hear the Vampire shouting, “I will have my revenge.”

And thus dear readers the music to the The Vampire’s Revenge was born.

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The Family Picnic 1948

When I was a child my family, besides my parents and brother, consisted of lots of Aunts, Uncles and Cousins all on my mothers side of the family. We spent all the holidays together and practically every Saturday night at my Aunt Christina’s house where the adults played cards and all the kids hung out in the basement or in the living room. I remember my cousins Angel, Dolores and Vera taught the younger cousins including me how to dance the cha-cha and the mambo. There were lots of laughs and bond that has lasted over the years

One of the highlights of my childhood was the family picnic at Belmont State Park in Long Island. We would get up very early in the morning, pack the car with food and anything else we would need and take the Southern State Parkway to the picnic grounds. I always knew we were near when I’d see these huge trees on both side of the parkway cast a shadow over the parkway and then we would see the lake and in no time we were in the parking lot. For some reason we were always there first.

I would follow my father while he picked out a spot for the family.

Then we would unload everything from the trunk and carry it over to the tables. It usually took two to three trips. Then my father would start a fire and put up a large pot of coffee. As my aunts, uncles and cousins arrived there was hot coffee for the adults. Sometimes breakfast would be made by each family, but the main cooking and barbecuing would start near 12pm. Meanwhile there were all kinds of things for us to do like, playing in the park or going to the baseball field and have a game of softball. There were basketball courts that we enjoyed, but the main event was canoeing on the lake which we did after eating all the food and there was so much of it including large pots of pasta ( hey we were Italian and you couldn’t start a meal without the macaroni).

Very soon after we would go to the lake and getting the canoes. My uncles would row and of course somebody would stand up and tip the canoe over. I happened to be one of the fortunate kids to end up soaked and wet. But the tipping of the canoe problem was solved. At that time all men and boys had straps to hold up their pants. We took all the straps and strapped two canoes together. There were about four double strapped canoes. All I remember is all the laughter and the fun racing across the lake.

As it got later in the afternoon, we all gather at the tables and eat again. Soon it would be dark and we would be on our way.

I remember one of those times there was a thunder storm. The rain came down so hard that you could not see the next car in front of you. All the traffic stopped and waited for the storm to end. Something you wouldn’t see today. We would arrive home exhausted. Sometimes I fell asleep in the back seat. I mean I was four.

Those  were the days of innocence for my cousins and me.

Now 72 years later all the aunts and uncles and some of the cousins are gone, but that bond that we created in the forties and through the years to this day still holds true and I am so grateful for it.

Dom Minasi