Yea I played a small part in a movie- Lunch Break
You should really check out the trailer for “Lunch Break”. It’s fabulous!! I played the store manager- a real prick. For those of you who might be in the areas of NJ or IL- Wildwood and Naperville respectively, it should be playing I think this weekend.
http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi1176961049
and for those of you movie enthusiasts, fellow Funk Thunder member and guitarist EXTREME Joe Vella has made a few short films which I know he has somewhere- info to follow.
Hopefully in the next 6 months we’ll be doing our first film score. Stay tuned!
Steve
In the days following 9/11, I contemplated life itself. I was a NYC commuter and I returned to the city only two days after the carnage of the disaster. I knew these moments would be ones I could never recreate as they occurred. I knew I had to write for my own sanity to always have something to look back on and remember the meaning of it all.
I kept the writings together in a small pamplet. Every 9/11 I take it out, and read through it. It’s important for me, and for everyone out there to remember. Nothing could repeat the rawness of an open wound, years after it’s scarred over. Here it is I captured my emotion, and look back on it.
Six months after the Trade Centers fell, the film 9/11 aired. At the time I DEEPLY opposed it’s airing, because it was toooo, fragile a subject this soon after. Regardless, I sat and painfully watched the film that night. It was done by 2 Frenchman who were doing a documentary on New York City Firefighters and months earlier became part of their unit. They were based Downtown and on the scene. They actually got the only film footage of the first plane hitting the trade center from the ground. I’ll never forget how high I jumped at the impact of the craft. If you want to talk about shitting a brick, you could have built an igloo around me.
The film made me realize if I went Downtown to help, I would have been useless. It helped me remove much of my guilt on my decision to go back to New Jersey; to go home. On my ferry ride home that day, I’d encountered a woman, who changed me. The incident made me grow a thousand times. If you’d take a moment to read it, then think to yourself what makes you, perhaps you’ll discover a gem. Provided is a clip from this encounter:
March 11th, 2002- Reflection
“When I boarded the ferry, after waiting only 2 1/2 hours, it sailed around the tip of Manhattan. Plumes of thick smoke billowed like nothing I’d ever seen. The silence was deafening as passengers watched an empty New York skyline fill with debris. I thought of those people who struggled to breathe Downtown, those that had to have died, and those stricken by fear and emotion. It was my inability to hold out my hand from my safety that was crippling. I felt a burden bury itself in me: Guilt.
The Captain announced that anyone within a 10-block radius of the Trade Centers would have to be isolated and checked at Hoboken. An alarmed woman who stood next to me told me she was within the radius, only 8 blocks away. Her face panicked and she obviously contemplated the need for such a check. I wanted to comfort her with a hug, but as word moved through the ferry of possible germ warfare, I declined. Although she stood only feet from me, I crushed my compassion with words aimed to fill that void. Unfortunately, I found for the first time in my life, I was speechless. There was nothing I could say, no way to convey what it was that filled my heart. I’ll never forget the expression on her face till the day I die and I’m sorry I hadn’t hugged that woman. “
The story of “Why Cry” starts with a walk through an ancient cemetary in NJ. One which overlooks Staten Island and dates back to the late 1600’s. The stained glass windows of the church picture Ben Franklin, and I seem to remember him having something to do with the church there. Either him or his son.
When I walked around this one day years ago, I came across the tombstone of James Mitchell Jnr. It was dated 1843 and he was from New Orleans. It got me thinking, “What would someone be doing here in NJ from LA? I mean this was 1843, and transportation was NOT the way it was today. What would drive him here??? I figured it could be the pursuit of a dream. Before I knew it, these lyrics were writing themselves down, and I had the song. Had no vision for it. At the time, it was just a poem.
One late night day, Mighty Joe V and I were in my basement toyin around with songs. It was probably about 3am, and we were tired. I remember we were doing a totally different style of music all night long, and I said somethin like , “Lets switch it up”. So he plugs in his guitar and starts this riff…. records it, then starts another riff over the first…..
FUCKIN A….. I pull out the lyrics to “Why Cry” and it came as natural as a walk in the park. A little different for a Funk Thunder tune, and certainly not something which really blends with our sound, but I had to put it out there. We’ll call it a B-side.
Hope ya like it. We certainly do. Go to see our myspace site at : www.myspace.com/funkthunder , we just added it today
Steve
I’m a people person. I enjoy the pleasure of stimulating company, and this could come at anywhere at any time. I’m always open for it, and I seem to be a recepticle for it. My memory reiterates story after story based on these experiences- it’s why I enjoy writing. It’s something I can share which will hopefully encaptulate a moment and generate a lesson.
Over 15 years ago, I lived in a place called Plainsboro. Plainsboro was a stones throw from a facility called GE Astro Space in East Windsor, NJ which produced aeronautical devices of sorts. Anyways, in the early 90’s the company had problems and was purchased by Lockheed Martin which produced diffcult layoffs. I heard about this, but it was by chance, with my love for garage sales, I came across someone directly effected by it- a man I who’s name I can’t recall.
The man put in much of his life working for the company and lost his job short of his retirement. It was a terribly tragic thing.
We had a conversation which always stuck with me.
I purchased a small book of photographs from him, a folder labeled with RCA on the front. When I looked through it, I found all these very professional space photos. It spontaneously generated the conversation of which I talk. Turns out the man worked for NASA at Cape Canaveral in the early days of the space program. I don’t remember in what capacity he worked, but he was there for the Apollo-Soyuz project of 1975.
At the front of this book was a picture of the astronauts, both US and USSR. The other pictures were of the Lunar landing of Apollo 16 in 1972 and stamped RCA- Astro- Electronics Div. on the backs. Each had a memo which described what was listed in the photograph with a logic to the order. I was very interested in the book and being aware of his situation I bought it. Frankly, I thought it very cheap considering this was such a “memory”, but given his situation, I presume he was rather disgusted at the company.
I always felt the early days of the space program were so monumental to the sustanence of future life, that a hundred years from now, space travel will be like hopping in a car. When you look at the history of it, and when one considers people actually thought the moon was made of cheese, the early days were FOREIGN. Documents of history are really amazing, and I’m fortunate to saved some, including these photographs.
What I’m trying to say is, no matter how angry one may get at a situation, never forget how instrumental you are in the “whole” of things. We may lose sight of something as important as early lunar missions, because we always move forward, yet you must look back in order to step ahead. Many errors have come in history and the foundation of today is built on those like stepping stones.
I saw a video on UFO’s this morning on youtube, which brought this up. It was kind of strange, because in the back of this book, tucked away in a slippocket was an old b/w photograph. One which looked famous to me, one I may have seen on something like “In Search Of”. It was a UFO and it showed an arrow which directed your attention to one behind a cloud bank. It was on a sheet of stamps from Grenada, all of UFO’S. There was a yellowed paper which was about the release of the stamps, but the picture ALWAYS facinated me.
AND for you space buffs out there, Plainsboro was VERY CLOSE to a town that earned it’s recognition with one Orsen Wells in the year 1938. A place where the United States was being invaded by aliens. Can you guess it?
Years ago, I recovered a box of assorted paperwork from a storage facility which was having a sale. It looked valuable to me, although I could only read a few of the papers. It was mostly in Hebrew, but had various dates through World War II, and it’s owner was a Brooklynite.
I won’t go into the details much, but I believe the man who originally owned the box was a poet. There was one poem in here which I found particularly disturbing because of what it portrayed, as a loss of faith. It was hand written in ink on a piece of letterhead. I’d imagined it was penned during World War II and involved the Holocaust, and how that came to effect this one person.
I’d like to dedicate this to who I’d imagine was the poet,. It was on letterhead with the name : Dr. I.R. Shapiro 8727 Twentieth Ave, Brooklyn NY. It’s further dedicated to all those lost lives and people directly effected by the Holocaust.
Of what use is my prayer, I silently mutter;
Of what good is my pleading, I constantly utter,
Of what avail is my worship and my hearty devotion
Of what value are my good wishes that are offered with emotion?
Oh! What does it matter to the Almighty
My hymns, my entreaties, my prayers, my piety
Thou art unconcerned and indifferent to good or bad
And dost nothing to right a world gone mad.
Oh, What does it matter?
Oh, What does it matter?
Ach! Donnerwetter! Donnerwetter! (Oh! Blow up! Blow up!)
I plead and pray once more for suffering humanity
To redeem the world from fascist nazi insanity
And to grant a happy New Year
to the unfortunate children and mothers
And to end the plight of our unhappy sisters and brothers
Gutes und Schlechtes, alles eins zu die Gotter, (Good and bad, everything one to God)
Ach, Donnerwetter, Ach Donnerwetter! (Oh, blow up, blow up!)
Why do they call it Labor day weekend? Well, you’re supposed to take a break from “labor”. This was never more evident until the police impounded my buddies truck in the city. It was an unfortunate thing, and one which happened in the course of a half hour, while he went to the post office to mail a few packages. He parked on 30th St, paid the meter, and placed his receipt in the front window. When we returned to it, to the spot it was missing. After thinking it was stolen with his sound equipment he called 911 to report it, only to find it’d been towed by the police for being parked in a commercial area. I spoke with the parking lot attendant practically across the street who had seen 15 other cars towed, AND I warned another two people not to park there (while I watched a flat bed truck sitting further down the street). What better way for NYC to make money?! The car costs $185 to get it out of impound and a ticket is issued for $115. Can you imagine??
Now mind you, I’d just gotten into the city and met him at the post office, so I saw it all transpire. We planned on goin to a beer hall right near his place in
The walk wasn’t so bad. It was at
We’re standing on line in this crazy mix of people. You could tell there were a couple of people from outta town, a neatly dressed biz guy, all cultures and races- It kinda felt like a bus station with the buses on strike. There were two windows open out of six, AND you had to visit one, in order to get to the other. The place had probably 20-30 people in there already sitting, but it was still early and at the rate the police were towing vehicles, it was bound to fill up quickly.
Now, we’d gotten pretty thirsty from our walk in the heat and there’s one machine with water and refreshments. Jeff, who JUST had his car towed, went over to buy a water, put that dollar in, and I bet you can guess the rest… NO WATER. He’s a pretty cool headed cat, but man, after he couldn’t get water- I could see him gettin pretty riled. It’s not bad enough his car got towed, but to not get water on TOP of it… that blows.
We gotta hang around and wait till the proper paperwork is processed, so we find a couple of seats (only after someone was called). I like to keep my mouth shut and listen to others in this kind of situation. The stuff which ya hear from angry people who have their cars towed can be pretty damn entertaining. I hate to think of it as entertainment, especially since I was a bystander, but being the fly on a wall of an impound waiting room… it certainly beats any kinda of conversation you can have!
I told my friend, it must be interesting when ya get a clash of cultures here, like if you have a movie star get his Mercedes towed endin up in “impound station”. It could happen. You need to present your license and registration in order to get your car, so unless it’s registered to someone else, your outta luck. I should also mention there is only ONE impound lot in
Adventures are trips to new places, and despite the heat, the thirst, the money, the walk, the patience, believe it or not, I was happy to be there. We actually found time to BS about goals, and like minded ambition. He pulled out a paper which gave characteristics of the successful man (or woman- no offense ladies) and wouldn’t ya know, we both had all of them. He’s a musician, and I’m a writer (and musician part-time…..) but the key element to this whole scenario is - why lose valuable time and energy on something you don’t really have control over? Sometimes life throws you a bone and ya gotta deal with it. Get past the crappy stuff and keep rolling forward, you’re bound to get somewhere- AND if you don’t get anywhere the first time, don’t give up. Ya gotta get calicized . One of the things I must point out IS: “don’t hang around toxic people”. I’ve seen it first hand, and as ambitious as you can be- THEY’LL strike the match which brings you down in flames. Everything you try to do, will be stifled by the negativity of those types. We were both in full agreement on that point!
After we dealt with the whole van thing, we went down town for a bite and beer. I think one of the most valuable things in life is being able to see eye to eye with a few people who see the same and sort out one’s plans; remember why it is your doing what you do. You need that support to keep going in the right direction. Even if it comes in a seedy impound lot station. Thanks Jeff.