End Of Semester
posted by iwrit4me on April 13, 2013
well, you know about the kid I have been tutoring and his `issues’ and problems, today was his last class and of course he was right on time. He stopped me in the hall to show me the papers he wrote and they were impossible to read, the printer he used was almost out of toner and really I could not read them. I told him so and he looked at me and asked what he should do, I said go find another printer that works and print it out again. He looked at me, and then the papers and said he would be right back, and took off like a flash.
I went into class and listened to and critiqued the students mixes, collected their papers, had laughs with them and then finally, he reappears, stinking of weed, but with papers in hand. He said he had to run back home to print them out because he did not trust any of the printers at the school. I tried to tease him about the smell of weed and an attitude came on immediately and we almost went down a road that I am sure neither one of us wanted to go down. I put a stop to it by changing the subject as fast as I could and asking to listen to his final project, which was very good. I graded him accordingly
His project was the last for me to listen to and grade so I was starting to pack up and call it a semester when I realized nobody was leaving. I sat back down and the class and I just shot a bunch of shit for another hour, some of it funny, some serious, some questions about the past semester, and some just plain ridicules. Finally I got up again and said I had had enough and told them they could stay if they wanted but I was leaving, that’s when all the students got up and instead of packing up their stuff they came to the front of the room and one by one shook my hand and thanked me for what they learned and that they really enjoyed the semester.
Now, things like this usually freak me out a bit but what took the cake was the student that I worked with over the semester came up and kneeled down in front of me and kissed me ring finger! He then thanked me and said something which I could not hear over the noise in the room, and left.
I looked at my assistant, and he at me and said `wouldn’t it be really weird if they just selected a new pope?’ I just cracked up and said yea… three hours later my assistant called me to tell me that at the exact time he kissed my finger, was the time the pope was selected. I just blew it off with an `oh well, looks like I have connections’ and left it at that.
Just one of those weird things that happen to teachers I suppose, and no, he did not offer me any of his weed… *shrug*
Posted by iwrit4me on January 12, 2013 | Edit
I suppose you have heard, at least in passing, of a Ai student that was murdered New Years Eve, well he was one of mine. He and I actually got pretty close, which is unusual for me but he was easy to let in, he asked the right questions and I answered him with truths.
He took my classes, has been my TA for the past three semesters and was going into his last semester when he was struck down. A fight broke out at his house, and he ended up being stabbed three times in the heart along with being slashed on his arms and legs. There is much more to the fight story but that pretty much sums it up.
The wake and funeral were this past week, I went to both. At the wake there were at least 100 students there, a huge crowd of people turned out. He, if this is possible, would have been very happy with the crowd size. I have not been to a wake in a gazillion years so I just followed the crowd, signed my name and continued to follow the line. I looked around and there were people sitting in the pews crying, holding each other, the body was in a open casket and people were stopping in front of it, some bowing, others looking like they were praying and then moving on to a spot that they chose to sit. The line moved on down towards the front until I was there facing three people I had never seen before. His `mothers’ looked at me, and I at them and I put out my hand to introduce myself and as soon as I said my name they so broke down, hugging me, crying, thanked me for being there, telling me how he always spoke of me, that I was his mentor, he would always do what I said… they went on and on, and I really could not handle it, broke down with them… *sigh*… I was also embarrassed by what they were saying, nobody ever, I mean ever said so many wonderful things about me and this was all coming from words he spoke to them about me… I wanted to dig a hole and hide, but that is not what I do so I cried with them, hugged them profusely, offered my services if they ever needed a n y t h i n g, and moved on until…
I found myself standing in front of the casket with Tony in it. Now, you must understand Tony was a student of audio recording and what I was seeing was Tony in a casket, surrounded by plants, in front of a stage that was lined with eight microphones, and to the right was a piano and a drum set, of which he played both. This was just slightly surrealistic in my mind but I could deal with it. So, there I am standing alone with him, and I am looking at him thinking, “Yo T, I know you better than this, what are you going to do for me?” I am standing there, waiting… looking for a small smile to pop up out of the side of his mouth, maybe a twitch of an eyelid, even a small fart that only I could hear, but no, there was nothing. I put my first two fingers of my right hand to my lips and put them down lightly on his forehead and whispered ” I love you Tony, I hope to see you soon” Then I raised my fingers and moved on.
Little did I realize what I moved on to was, in a way, my own hell. Not more than ten steps away I was being greeted by students bawling their eyes out, so glad I was there, hugging, crying, at one time I had three students on my crying, as I try to hand my cane over to anybody so I balance myself off of the students, hand them napkins, tissues, anything I could find (one kid got my eye glass cleaner), it was intense. I held strong for them, calming, talking, whispering to them of how it was to be able to share our pains and at the same time share our love for him. I went to many different rows, talking to students trying to be solid for them, not letting them know that I was breaking inside.
It was one of the hardest things I had ever done, to be there for so many people while I was breaking up inside… wow is pretty much all I can say.
I found a spot to sit, stayed for the full three hours just watching it all unfold before me, console when and where I could, and feel the loss of a good man at 21
I thank you M.L. for being by my side the whole time, I want to also thank Pearl for understanding my writings, and Pete, Jon, and Austin for being my bros.
Tomorrow I will be in my studio, I need to paint… a lot
Please Allow Me…..
posted November 25, 2012 by iwrit4me
I was just floating around on you tube while searching out Massachusetts divorce papers and assorted information when the next tune was Rosalita by Bruce Springsteen. My mind flipped into deep memories of him, the band, the shore, I was so much there, Jesus…
I grew up in New Jersey, every summer my parents would take me and my sister to Bradley Beach on the Jersey shore. We learned about the entire coast line from Sandy Hook to Seaside Heights. OMG stories of fishing with my Grandfather just hit my brain, we’ll come back to those.
So, this was an every summer thing, the family would go down for a month every year, as I got older we stopped going down but I would hitch hike my way down, I was about 15 at this time. The thing about me and that age was I had these huge mutton chops so I looked older and the drinking age then was 18 so, I was getting into all the clubs. The main one was in Asbury Park called The Stone Pony. I would see all types of music there from blues, to funk, to punk…
I went there for years, actually became a `the BEST local’ of the club (a local is not quite a bar fly). There was a band that started to play there a lot, `Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes’ a great 40’s to 70’s cover band. These guys really rocked, I would see them every time they played. After a while a guitar player would show up on their gigs, “Bruce Springsteen” and play all night with them. This went on for months, and would happen in other clubs where Bruce and Southside Johnny would just show up and play and sing with whoever was playing that night. This went on for almost two years when Bruce had his band together and so did Southside Johnny. I saw these guys trade sets at the Stone Pony where Southside Johnny and the Jukes would play a set, go on break then Bruce would do a set with his band, and the last set both bands would play together. It was party time and you just knew that these bands were going places, both bands got recording contracts and went into record their albums and I lost touch and went to college in Boston.
While at school a friend came to my dorm to tell me about a band to see tonight, I asked who it was, he said Bruce Springsteen and I said `yea, sure’ and we went to the Orpheum Theater. We were able to get tickets and went in. The Orpheum holds about three thousand but was not full that night and if I could tell you I saw the BEST rock and roll show ever that night I am not bull shitting. My # 1 show ever. From start to finished the band did not miss a note, were running around the stage, working off each other like it was perfectly choreographed. An unbelievable show….
The second year at the college, it went bankrupt and I went back to New Jersey fucked around for a while then went to two different schools in NYC. The first one was The Institute of Audio Research of which I graduated and could not get a job anywhere, so I went to school for electronics at RCA/Technical Career Institutes. During my time at RCA it was announced that Bruce was going to do a weeks set of performances at The Bottom Line. I knew people that worked there and was able to pull some strings and saw three out of the five nights performances. The shows were good, a very crowded stage, the Bottom Line was a small club that held about 300 ppl, and all kinds of people at the shows from Johnny and Edgar Winter to radio DJ’s to TV people. It seemed that all of NYC’s finest were at these shows and so was I. I swear I was recognized by him for at one point he took a double take and pointed right at me, but that was all.
I was offered a job before I graduated working for a recording studio in New York, which I took and started my `career’ in audio. The first job dies after a week, the next one was working for Media Sound, a first rate recording studio and I learned a lot there, moved to three other studios before I landed the a studio called The Power Station. It was here in 1981 that it happened again. Bruce and the band were coming in to record a new album, and I was on the overnight shift. The first night the band came in around 6pm and were underway in a “Lock out session” where no one was allowed in but I was the overnight technician and the shop was through that door. I was told to go through but get to the shop and stay there unless a studio calls me. Well, I tried to do that but as I got through the door I saw Bruce and Clarence Clemons talking directly on the path I needed to go in. I walked forward and they looked up and the double takes started to happen again and Bruce looked at me, then Clarence, then me and said “Al?” I answered with a Hi Bruce, nodding and saying Clarence who then said a big “AL!” and we started hugging and yelling at each other, the `security (front desk person) came running in and saw us having a good time, Bruce said it was all ok and we went into his studio, introduced me to everyone of which I knew most and I then excused myself and went to do my job.
Bruce and the band worked on three albums while I was there, Clarence opened a club in Belmar, Jersey shore, and I used to hang out there a lot when I was not working.
Then I moved to California and have not seen any of them since…
This one of those writings that come with great difficulty because I am writing about my self. The self that I have kept low for a long time but it is time to explain a few things to you. I am not afraid of people, I just am not a believer in them, they lie too fuckin much and their morals are shot to shit. I am not afraid of you because I understand you, I am not afraid of anyone in your past because I can see them where they can not see me, and I am not afraid to die.
You see, during my teens I began to look for myself, as most do at that age, but it was in the late 60’s and there was a lot to look through. I looked into Judaism, Buddhism, meditation, eastern philosophies, and had outer body experiences. I looked into the dark side of witchcraft, went as far as reading into the Satanic Bible, I dabbled, experimented, and was smart enough to get out before I made any great deals, any of those that I did make have already been filled. I shut that side of me down tightly, to never reopen again. But, I do have the ability to read things well, just as I can smell a bad piece of meat, I can see where others can’t, if I allow myself to do so.
I have ridden with the Hells Angels, been a junkie, a coke freak, and alcoholic, all during my teens. I never tried suicide, but yet I did, story to be told soon…
I have been driving cars since I was 12, stole a car and ran away from home only to end up in jail in Salem County Illinois with an old man that beat the shit out of his daughter because she wanted him to stop drinking, and a teenage murder, killed three people, and the person I stole the car with and… we had a cat in the car with us that the guards would let me out to feed everyday.
I have died twice, and been welcomed back, each time with the same mission, to help as many people as I can before I die. I have spoken with God, I believe in reincarnation, and have seen some of my past lives, and met some people from them. I have serious health issues that are from my formation in the womb and I have not given in to them, I have been able to do almost everything I have ever wanted to do and made a life for myself that others would envy if I let them know what I have done and where I been.
I love, love, being loved, sharing love, even the smell of love. I have been described as a “romantic”
and I accept that description with open arms. I need to be loved more than I need anything else in this world and I have just found it again… ty
I am an artist, educator, really bad poet, I like to travel, favorites so far are NYC, Montreal, Paris. I love Vermont, upstate NY, and the Caribbean. I have lived in New Jersey, New York, California, Vermont and Massachusetts. I’ve driven across this country 4 times, each one is a wonderful experience. Did you know that there are X rated drive in theaters in Texas? Neither did I… I eat almost everything, leave brains off of my plate please, I love to cook, garden, not as much these days, but when I am happy I love it.
I have worked as a cook, dishwasher, gas pump jockey, waiter, roofer, kitchen degreaser, parking lot attendant, shoe salesman, drummer, electronic technician, audio/video maintenance engineer, recording engineer, record producer, fireman, road manager, a booking agent, and a teacher in a college (present). I have taken part in the constructing of recording studios, video studios, and sound stages, wired entire facilities, repaired and rebuilt them too.
One of my earliest memories was with a box of cereal, a door, and a crayon. I was drawing the letter G from the cereal box all over the kitchen door with my crayon and my mother freaked, she thought I was a friggin’ genius for being able to write the letter G. They finally figured out I was copying it but it was interesting none the less.
In the summer of `69 I was 14 and my parents sent me away to a camp in upstate NY. It was a “Jewish” camp and I remember that on the first day there the “counselors” were giving their speech about the place, you know where your bunks are, whats in store for you at the camp, where the shitters are, bla, bla, bla, and at one point during the speech they said “and let me warn you about trying to leave this camp, there are a lot of Nazi’s out there and they will kill you before you have a chance to get back to the campground, so DO NOT LEAVE THE CAMPGROUND without having a supervisor with you to protect you.” I mean really, its 1969, everyone of the campers has balls, street smarts if you will, we have all been getting high for years already, do you really think we believe there are fuckin Nazis out there… That may have worked at one time, but not any longer. I was doing the camp thing, running, swimming, cleaning, chasing the girls, getting high and one day I was bringing in a row boat that I had, I rowed it in as far as I could and jumped out to start hauling it in when I felt something on my foot. I got to shore and looked down and there was a piece of a broken bottle stuck in my foot. I got help to the nurses office, they cleaned and bandaged me up and I hobbled out of there to go to dinner. I was no longer to play camp games since I only had 1 foot to run on so… after a couple of days like this I got bored, got two of my friends together and split the camp.
On our way off the property we did see swastikas on trees, and some mounted boards but once we got to the road all was beautiful. There were rolling hills, green grasses and the air smelled so clear, not like in the camp. So we walked for a while and then started to hitch hike got a ride to a cross roads where we took a left and the driver went straight. We walked for a while, me hobbling, and we saw this tractor come slowly down the road, the closer it got the freaker it got. It pulled up along side of us, the driver had long hair, a cowboy hat, overalls, and said Hi in a way that you really didn’t know what he said. We figured out that he said his name was Wavy Gravy and invited us on to go to the farm.
We all got on and down the road we went, it took a while but we did finally pull off the road and down a hill and then we saw it… a stage was being built on this farm in the middle of a field. We all jumped off the tractor and met everyone, names I can not recall now. We stayed the first night, partied, ate well, slept under the stars.. The next morning we got up and everyone started working on building the stage. We stayed there for three days working, partying, playing and then got a ride back close to the camp. When we got their our parents were there, the cops were there, and we got kicked out of the camp and parents took us all home.
Within the next month I started hearing about this concert that was about to take place in NY a three day show to be known as Woodstock. I got tickets as soon as I could and prepared myself to go. Well, on the Thursday I was going to leave I got up in the morning, went downstairs and sat down with a coffee. My mother came into the kitchen got her coffee, turned towards me and screamed “What the hell is wrong with you!?” as she dropped her coffee. I was like WHAT? She dragged me to a mirror and my glands were sticking out of the side of my head… I had the fuckin mumps! And I wasn’t going anywhere except to the Dr.
I got to listen to a lot of the show being broadcast over the radio and a couple of years later the movie came out. I went to see the movie and in the opening scene of the movie was Wavy Gravy and his tractor driving to the field where the stage was… yes, love… I got to help build Woodstock!
Please allow me to introduce myself #2
Posted by iwrit4me on March 23, 2012
So, I made it through most of my teens without too much of a problem, never thought I’d make it to twenty but there it was. I had dropped out of high school, became a kosher butcher, went back to high school, graduated and went to a two year college in Boston. Just my luck it turned out to be the college that fed drugs to all the other schools in the Kenmore Sq area. So, I sort of fit right in. I fell in love with a dyke who wanted nothing to do with me, hung out with an alcoholic from Florida, we always missed our morning classes and breakfast, would meet at her place around noon and start our day with some nasty assed screwdrivers and off to class we would go. All of us would meet again by four pm at the bar on the corner “Pooh’s Pub” where we would proceed to get drunk as skunks and at 2am get kicked out and back to the dorms to party until 4… crash, get up at noon and do it all over again. Pooh’s was a cool place, they would keep track of how much money you had spent on drinks until you reached $100 and then you were a member of the $100 dollar club where you would pick a night that you wanted and you could drink whatever you wanted all night and it was the owners responsibility to get you home and into bed, I never made it but a friend of mine did and I don’t think he was ever the same… they would also have jazz concerts in the back room where on any given night you could pay a dollar to see some of the cats from Berkley play, it was cool.
I got to see some great music in Boston that year, would go to Paul’s Mall and the Jazz Workshop, ate great Chinese food in China town, and just didn’t care… it was a party school, at a party time and I did party…
The school went bankrupt the second year I was there, which was fine for me as I got to go back to New York and start my life again.
More soon …
Please Allow ME #3
posted by iwrit4me April 1, 2012
I met wife #1 in high school, we got along great. She was about 5’1″ overweight, Jewish, and needed sex, I just needed sex. We screwed our way through high school and after graduation we went to different colleges. Me in Boston and she down to Washington D.C. I would drive down, or when I had the money, fly down to DC whenever I could. There were some goood time down there, she went to American Univ. and that was a more serious school but still a party school, hell… every school was a party school at that time, 1973. AU would have a spring party on the main lawn each year and I got down to see Peter Frampton paly one year. She stay for four years and became an accountant, while I was going to school for electronics and beating down doors in NYC to get into the studios there. She, Mindy btw, came back home and was living with her parents as I was with mine. I got a job working for a high speed duplication plant, that made cassettes, going to school and met a girl that I liked a lot and seeing Mindy. Sound like trouble yet? I saw this girl, Rosemary, for two years, fell for her, and was planning on getting married to Mindy. Honestly, I did not want to marry her but I felt (dumb statement here) I owed it to her since we were together for so long. OY!
Cut story short here: I found an apartment, made marriage arrangments, yea, a nice big Jewish wedding, kept dating Rosemary. I actually told her that the marriage was not going to last three years but she didn’t believe me and the night before I was to be married, Rosemary left me. 😦
and I got married.
So here we are, honeymoon in the Bahamas, alls going well, I get a job in a studio called Media Sound, she gets one with Chase Manhatten Bank and we are on. A year or so into married life I start getting these back pain, no body could diagnose. So, the doctor sent me for a CT scan. What they found looked like to them was a tumor on my brain, but an arteriogram show that it was an AVM. I was 25 at this time, I was working at Hit Factory at the time and just finishing the Double Fantasy album. Not remember I was the tech on this not the engineer or producer. The doctor I was seeing was the team of Michelson and Hillel out of Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in NY. I was told my options, and if I did not have surgery done I woud have less than two years to live. Hmmmm… The surgery was to have the blood vessel embolized by dropping little glass pellets into the vein to block it off and then wait for the AVM to shrink, send me up to Boston and have it obliterated with a photon beam. I am serious! so… said ok to the surgery.
Meanwhile, I changed jobs when the Lennon session was over and move over to the Power Station, the #1 studio in NY at the time. Still married and this thing is growing in my head. All was going well when one night at work the phone rings in the shop. Tech remember… It was the studio manager of a studio in New Jersey asking me if I could possibly spare some tape reel flanges. Their studio was working on their first `big’ project and they ran out of them. Now, this was an analog world then and P S had gazillions of reel flanges, and I told her I could and she freaked on me thanking me ever so much and it there was anything she could ever do, and on, and on. I asked her to hold it and just tell me where her studio was since lived in NJ anyway I could bring them by on my way home from work. Now I worked the night shift and I was in early when I answered the phone so I left early that night, around 3am, and found this little studio with their first big hit in East Orange NJ. She, Julie, was still there and thanked me like crazy, I tried to calm her down but she was as antsy as a …. So we sat down and talked till dawn, and as I was getting ready to leave she asked if I ever do any freelance work, I said sure I do and she offered me a gig fixing their studio. Cool, I liked her and now I could make some more money.
Julie defiantly had work for me to do, and lots of it, everything from fixing their tape machine, working on their console, to redesigning their studio. I was their a lot, and working at night in the city. there was one day that I was finished helping their place, Julie would always wait till I was done and lock up the studio. We left, Julie locked up, we got into our cars and started to pull away when I signaled to Julie to stop, i had a question for her. She stopped, I got out of my car, went over to hers and signaled her to roll down her window, she did and asked what’s up, I bent down, stuck my head in the window and kissed her… and kissed her again, and turned around and left.
I have no idea what she thought as I got into my car and left for NY, I looked in my mirror and she was still sitting in the parking lot. But, that was it… it was the beginning of our affair.
So now, I would go to work at night, leave work around 3, be at Julies place by 3:30am, fuck till 8am, she would go to work, I would go home, get some sleep, be up by 5p have breakfast dinner with Mindy and leave for work by 10p and get into this cycle of work, fuck, sleep, eat, work…
It got to the point where Julie would visit me at nights at work, screw sometimes, meet at 3a when the after hours places would open, leave there by 7 so she could get to work and I home, get up early to work at her studio, work, play, kiss like crazy, work at PS fuck at 3 home by 9, up eat….
you get the picture… and then, the brain surgery
Please Allow Me #4
Posted by iwrit4me on May 28, 2012
OK, so I am doing well, working for a great studio in NYC, have wife and a lover, and now I need brain surgery. OK, fine… lets go.. It was discovered that I have an AVM and it was going to be alleviated. Into the hospital I go, work is supporting me, parents were there (which was weird enough) sister, wife.. sheesh.
I get prepped for the surgery tomorrow, everyone leaves for the night and out of nowhere pops Julie with the studio manager. I was so happy!!! We hugged, kissed, talked for what seemed like hours, Ivan (studio manager) left a long time ago and it was just the two of us. I don’t remember anyone coming by to say she had to go so we just kept on talking… eventually she did leave but before she did she handed me a bag filled with boxes of Jello mixes, never did understand why…
The next morning I get wheeled in for the surgery.
It turns out that the AVM was bigger than expected, they thought there was 1 blood vessel feeding it and there turned out to be three. Was on the table for 8 hours when they decided to stop for it would have been too much a strain on my heart. It was to be followed up by a second procedure.
I was wheeled out of the room and set up is a post op waiting area, was given a intern(?) to watch over me. He was reading a newspaper more than he was watching me and as I was lying there I coughed kinda hard, was smoking two packs a day then, he looked at me to see if I was ok, I looked at him and said “I guess I should not cough so hard” and he agreed and went back to his paper. So, I am lying there feeling like I am starting to catch a buzz, things are just looking different, eyes feel like they are closing when a nurse, or head nurse walks in. I see her image as she is throwing my “watcher” off his chair, I get this weird smile on my face, and as she starts putting pressure on my groin, I am gone… remember nothing more from that room, but I do remember “floating” just being sort of somewhere when in a distance I see a light. Now people… I am not kidding, I saw the light and was being drawn closer to it.
The closer I got the better it felt and I so wanted to get right up there and touch and hug it, but as I did I heard a voice say “you are to go back and help people” Huh??? “Go help” was all I heard, and then the next thing I knew was back in my hospital bed, in my room with way too many people around me.
Things calmed down as the day went on, people seemed to back off, and I kept going in and out of sleep. I don’t remember if Julie was ever back while I was still there, I’d have to call it a maybe. But everyone else was. I got to go home a few days later, and it went from being with doctors nurses and family to being with wife and friends.
I remember the doc telling me to be careful as the brain will be swollen for a few weeks. And for the first few days I was (I think) but after that my attitude started coming back. I remember saying to myself, ok, so you wanted to kill me, and probably still do so lets see if you can… I started getting high first with some pot, and then moved to the coke. I took it on heavily, snorting my ass off and nobody could say no to me. I was determined to die, and challenged it with everything I could find. Nothing worked… I am still here…
About a month after I went back to work and so did the wife…