I still believe that a writer, that any creative person, gives the best insight into themselves through their work, so I hope you’ll take the time to listen to my words and music. But in case you don’t, and for some unfathomable reason you are interested in who I am, here is a short recap of where I started and where I am.
I was born in the river town of Elizabeth City, NC, that peculiar area known as the “Albemarle”; settled in the late 1600s by Quakers, revolutionaries and people just looking for a better life, all of whom lived their lives and turned into the quiet dust that I evolved from.
Over the years, the trajectory of my life has taken me from the rivers, sounds and cypress swamps of my birthplace to Boston, New York City and Stockholm, Sweden. I have worked in the fields of North Carolina, made pizzas, sold shoes, played in bands, traded commodities in the World Trade Center, taught English, written articles, been a translator, music teacher and copywriter. I’ve written a lot of songs, produced a few albums and met my fair share of worthless scoundrels. Fortunately, I’ve also met a great many wonderful people who I am proud to call friends. I have failed and I have succeeded and I still have dreams.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words; if that is so then maybe this will make things clearer.
The picture above is by the artist, Marcus Uzilevsky. I purchased it (in installments) in the 1980s. I always loved it but never really knew why until a few years ago; in essence I think it sums up my career in music, possibly even my life. For me, it depicts what I like to refer to as “elegant chaos”. And that is a pretty fair representation of my life.
And since you’ve read this far… here are some worthless facts about me:
Musical Gods: Gershwin and Jobim
Favorite Author: William Styron
Favorite artists: Amedeo Modigliani and Edward Hopper
Proudest musical moment: When Michael McDonald sang on a song I co-wrote with Andreas Aleman
Favorite candy: Reece’s cup
Favorite foods: My Mother’s green beans, collards, cornbread and fried onion rings/squash, my Father’s fried chicken together with cucumbers in vinegar, BBQ, hush puppies and coleslaw from Cap’n Bob’s in Hertford, NC
I started drinking coffee when I was 54.
In the 1980s I lived on the same block as mafia boss Vincent “the chin” Gigante in the Village. Walked past him and the wise guys almost every day. He always wore a bathrobe.
I met and became friends with an octogenarian stripper named Leola Harlow. One of the sweetest ladies ever.
For more of my weirdness, please see the heading THOUGHTS and some of my musings and reflections there.
Sincere thanks for checking in!