DUMPSITE Read online

  There’s the door. It had a dull wood finish. Mother said it was six inches thick. There was a red light above the door; it would be lit when a recording session was going. As he punches in the code Mother gave him, 72239, he starts laughing, it’s his birthday, July 22, 1939…the door opens. The lights go on. Muddy sees a plethora of musical devices about to envelop him. He jumps behind the drums and works them.

  Four — Atlantic City Meeting

  It’s seven in the morning, an early phone call wakes Mother.

  “Hello.”

  “If you’re not up, get up, the meeting has been pushed up to 10 o’clock.”

  “I’m up, is there a problem?”

  “No, one of the guys has to catch a plane.”

  “I’ll get right over Mr. J.”

  A quick shower, checks his email, and readies for the meeting. The Muddman has sent an email ramble. Mother reads…

  Went to the Tony Orlando show two weeks ago. Fantastic performance and a great band. Miss playing. The place was sold out to mostly old people. Not like us, really old people. When the show was over and everyone was leaving I hit the head. After all, at age 75 you need to know where the bathroom is at all times. It was empty. There was a strange feeling as I stepped through the door – sort of magical. Very bright lights filled the whole area. In the background music played. At first, I thought it was from the show, but as I walked further into the room it got louder and louder. The room grew dark but the music was clear. I looked around but there wasn’t a soul in the place just me and a small light on the wall. Strange, lots of old guys at the show but not one in the men’s room. I walked further into the dark room, toward the small light. The music was playing a song by The Norsemen, it was you singing, She’s Cool. I looked around with panic. Was this the end? What a way to go in a commercial men’s room after a great show. Then I started to think; you know me when I start to think. I started to leave, when the floor, walls and the ceiling vanished. There were only two mirrors visible to me. One suspended in space and the other an old mirror with a crack in the lower corner. It was twelve by twelve inches with a wood frame.

  You were still singing as the room started to get brighter. It looked like a bath house from an old movie. I started to laugh and said to myself, “Mudd, ‘ya isn’t in Kansas anymore.” Still feeling like I was in an old movie I walked over to the first mirror and looked in to see a 75-year-old man looking back. So being curious I headed to the small mirror with the crack in the lower right corner. As I looked there was a young good-looking dude looking back. I tried to remove the mirror and take it off the wall but it was stuck. In the background there was a sign with snow on the ground. It looked very cold. The sign said Dartmouth College six miles. The background was moving at the speed of a big blur. As it slowed down I could see a station wagon with a trailer and five young guys taking pictures having a great time. The trailer had a sign reading: Direct from England, The Norsemen. It was parked at a motel. I remembered The Norsemen playing Winter Carnival, in February 1964. The mirror faded back to the old guy.

  I again tried to remove the mirror. This time it came off the wall. My hand was holding the mirror when a voice said, “Take me home, show Mother, take me, take me.” I was afraid someone would notice and think I was stealing the mirror but not one person even looked at me.

  I’m not going crazy but I had to tell someone what happened and how I got possession of the mirror. I keep thinking back, looking at all the years we traveled together having the time of our young lives. Trying to make the big time but as we found it was, outta reach, just outta reach.

  Muddy has again had some strange things happen to him in a most unlikely place. Mother guessed he was talking about the mirror with the crack, the one he showed him the other night?

  If all went well, Muddy and he could get started on the music when he returned. The trip to Atlantic City was a drag, but he had to go and meet with the guys. He was on time as they met in the lobby.

  Everyone seemed in good spirits as they headed to the small meeting room. There was a large oak table in the center with soft leather-like chairs all around. The walls were painted a light tan color with typical pictures of various landscapes hanging on three of the walls. There were no windows just bright florescent lighting. Pen’s and pads at each seat. The meeting started.

  To Mother’s surprise all was calm as they discussed the problems at hand. There seemed to be unity in the room until Mr. V, mentioned he had seen someone resembling a man from the past. He looked like the newspaper picture from the 50’s but he was a younger man. He had seen him at a distance once and almost bumped into him last week at a business conclave in New York. He felt it was a coincidence and perhaps he was a look alike but he said he got a chill when he looked into his face.

  “The guy didn’t flinch so maybe I reacted a bit much,” said Mr. V.

  No one seemed too distressed. But all four thought it wouldn’t hurt to be more vigilant. They discussed a few other matters and agreed they should all be more on top of things. Mr. C, asked how the movie was progressing. Mother told him all was going well. He would have music for them at the next meeting. Mother said goodbye and headed to the parking garage.

  It was always good to see the guys, he thought. They all grew up together in Saddle River Township, New Jersey. All of them attended Lexington Grammar School in the sixth grade and Jefferson Middle School for seventh grade. The next year some of them went their separate ways as one family after another moved out of town. Mother and his family moved to Rochelle Park.

  He found the car where he left it and headed to Chateau 54 and the Muddman.

  Five — Music Makin’ Muddster

  Mother, arrived a little past two in the afternoon. As he entered the lobby Mudd came over.

  “I think there is a good direction for the movie to go and a song that’ll help it get there.”

  “Great Mudd, see you in the studio as soon as I order something to eat.”

  Mother asked Solly, who looked his usual suave self, to get him a tuna sandwich and a lemonade. Solly has come a long way since he was released from prison. He was framed for a kidnapping caper gone wrong. After spending two years in jail a man came forward with evidence which got him released.

  Solly lived in the old neighborhood, before his family moved to Saddle River Township. Solly’s older brother, Geno, was one of Mother’s best friends. Mother hired Solly to work at Chateau 54. He was friendly, loyal and always going the extra mile.

  “Here’s your lunch my friend.” Solly announced as he handed Mother, a tray full of goodies. “Would you like me to take it over for you sir?”

  “No thanks, Solly I got it.”

  Mudd was waiting for Mother with a quizzical look on his face. “I think my time this morning has been fruitful. The drum work has given me an idea for a theme song.”

  “Great. What genre are you tied into?”

  “Rock and roll, of course,” said Muddy without any hesitation. “Come on I’ll give you a sample.”

  Mudd started to play something between a march tempo and a funeral dirge.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Chill Mother, be patient - watch this.”

  To Mother’s surprise he managed to get into a rock beat with a new twist.

  “See, what did I tell you,” said Mudd.

  “I like it, did you get into the dog music?”

  “I did but I need a few more ideas, got any?”

  Mudd switched beats into a happy Latin mode.

  “Great, Mudd, lets organize and put some words together. Have you read the script?”

  “I read parts of it to get some ideas but thought you would be able to put the finishing touch to the material I started.”

  They worked from 4:30 in the afternoon until a little after midnight.

  “Muddy, I think we have a fantastic start to the sound track. The theme song is off to a good beginning. Let’s sleep on what we ha
ve and tomorrow morning we’ll tighten up the rough parts. If we luck out we can send this along to the producers in a day or two and see what they think.”

  “You really like it?” asked Mudd, flashing a strange look.

  “Absolutely, it’s right on the mark. Although there is still a lot of music to be written, this is the start I had hoped for.”

  They both took a deep breath, when a memory came to Mother, “Muddy, do you remember the day I ran into you at the Garden State Plaza in Paramus? I think it was late November or early December in 1957. You were working behind the electric razor counter in Bamberger’s department store.”

  “I do. When I saw it was you, I shouted; you turned around with an inquisitive look on your face.”

  “I was shocked to see you. Not only were you selling razors but it looked like you were repairing one of the little mechanical buggers.”

  “Trying to repair would be more accurate,” Mudd said.

  “I thought you were still up at Ithaca College studying music.”

  “I had come home after Thanksgiving and got my old job back, for the holiday season.”

  “I was excited to see you and asked if you were going to get playing with a group?

  “I remember exactly what I said. I was waiting to hear from you!”

  “And, I answered, here I am,” Mudd said. “I then asked, are you looking for a drummer?”

  “And I said, when can you start?”

  “Do you remember what I did then?”

  “I do. You went into the manager’s office and quit.”

  “I did.”

  “You know what, Muddy, your mother never forgave me.”

  “She did.”

  “Okay Mudd, do you remember what we did next?”

  “We went to lunch.”

  “No, before.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember, we stopped at Sam Goodies record shop to see what it would be like to have our own 45 on the shelf.”

  “You introduced me to Boogie Brill, the assistant manager at Sam Goodies.” Boogie was a character, a short squat man 20-30 pounds overweight. He was round faced with a smile that wouldn’t quit. He could sell you the shirt off your back.

  “Right on Mother, Boogie would try to manage us after we recorded our first 45. Enough of this let’s eat!” Both continued their reminiscing during the meal.

  The boys had headed to the automat, picked out a sandwich and a drink. During lunch they caught up on Muddy’s college days. It wasn’t what he was looking for, so before he spent too much money on education he came home to make his fortune. Mom and Dad were not happy.

  Mother told Mudd the band had recorded two songs, She’s Cool and Squirrel, in Hackensack, New Jersey, in the backroom studio of Conklins record shop. It was fun but he was not happy with the feel or the sound of the two songs. He told Muddy he would set up a get together with George. He was the guitar player and writer of the instrumental song. George was tall and lanky about six feet two. The girls loved him.

  Mother had asked the Muddman to learn the repertoire. The sooner he learned the songs the sooner the group could start making money. The money was needed to pay for the recording session. He explained Tom, the drummer was about to get married and leave the area. Muddy would take his place.

  There were many gigs booked at various high schools and other local events which would keep Mudd, in some cash. Mother would then introduce him to Milton, the sax player. For some unknown reason, Muddy and Milton never hit it off. It ended with a fistfight behind the Circus Bar in Seaside Heights, NJ. It was the summer of 1959. The band was booked for the month of July and had two weeks left on their contract. Mudd would hurt his left hand and Milton would get a split lip. This made their playing very difficult as a drummer needs his hand and a sax player needs a healthy lip.

  Back to 1958…they made plans to re-work the song She’s Cool and learn a new song George had written called Desert Boots. Little did they know Desert Boots would almost help them grab the brass ring but it continued to remain outta reach. Muddy, George and Mother would have a great time playing and getting ready to record. Mother found a recording studio in Hillsdale NJ, called Steven’s and would book a session in early spring.

  “Who are the movie producers,” asked Mudd. “Are they tied into your trip to Atlantic City? Are you in any trouble? Can I help? What’s up?”

  “The Production Consortium, no, no, no, nothing,” Mother answered, “I’ll see you in the morning.” Mother headed for the door.

  “Okay Mother, I’m feeling a bit tired myself. I want to look in the mirror before I retire. You know, maybe I’ll see something inspiring,”

  “Go for it.”

  M&M (Mudd and Mother) headed for some rest. Mother thought he should go look in the mirror too but he overcame the inclination. He wanted to look up the information Mr. V mentioned at the meeting. He thought, maybe Mr. V had something concrete when he saw the familiar face from the past.

  The morning came quickly. Mother didn’t get much sleep. He was unable to find anything using the information from Mr. V.

  “Yo, Solly, have you seen Mudd?”

  “Been here and gone, about an hour ago.”

  “Thanks, maybe I’ll take my breakfast with me.”

  “French toast with thin apple slices and the creamy topping?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be in the studio. Will you get it to me when it’s ready?”

  “I’ll bring it myself, sir.”

  Mother found Mudd in the lobby. As they walked a female person was waving at Muddy. Mother hadn’t noticed her before and asked Muddy straight-out.

  “Have you found yourself a female friend?”

  “Not really, she’s too pushy. Comes on a little too strong.”

  “You can’t handle her?”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “You!”

  When they entered the studio Solly arrived.

  “Thanks, Solly.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  After Solly left the room, Muddy asked, “How come Solly calls you sir?”

  “He’s a class act, he calls everybody sir.”

  “But not with the same reverent tone in his voice.”

  “Forget it Muddy, you’re hearing things.” I think Muddy is starting to get ideas that I’m not ready to explain.

  “Back to work. We need to make some progress today. I told the production company we would have a sampling of the music in a few days.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you Mother?”

  “I’m confident you and I will finish by tomorrow.”

  M&M worked for two hours but didn’t get much done. Mudd’s quiet demeanor and quick sharp, remarks, were not his norm and gave Mother a feeling of concern. Maybe a little time to get their minds on track would be best for now.

  “Muddy, let’s take a short break. I have a couple of phone calls to make and also need to speak with Mr. Gerald, the manager of this place.”

  “Okay Mother, we don’t seem to be on the same page this morning.”

  “Meet me back here in an hour.” Mother said as he exited.

  Mother sure is acting strange. Maybe I should call my friend Noodles in Vegas. He could find out what’s making Mother so jumpy. He owes me a favor anyway. Noodles small company does work for the casinos. Checking credit ratings, connections and other relevant aspects of the high rollers as they come into town. He seems to be able to find out anything about anyone. I’ll wait and see what happens in the next few days. If Mother doesn’t tell me what’s bothering him I’ll call and get the information I need. Maybe I can help!

  Six — The Boys From AC

  Mother decided to call Mr. J, they had been close through the years. They both worked in the music business. Back in the late 70’s Mother used to work as an audio engineer in a multi-track studio and helped him record a couple of gold records. In turn he put some of Mothers songs on various projects. Mot
her collected a few dollars and formed his own publishing company, which brings in extra cash three-four times a year.

  Mr. J, is James Jardan. He’s a successful music producer, having many gold records to his credit. James lives in Nashville, Tennessee near the old Johnny Cash home. Mother made a short visit a few years back. As a rule, they don’t associate with one another in public. It’s a code they made after the awful incident they witnessed back in the early 50’s.

  Mother dialed and waited. The phone rang.

  “Hello Big Mama.”

  “Hey Mr. J, have you got a little time to talk?”

  “I do.”

  “What did you think about the chance encounters Mr. V had?”

  “Tell you the truth, although I acted calm at the meeting its been on my mind.”

  “Me too,” Mother, said. “What do you think we should do?”

  “I haven’t got the slightest idea?”

  “I tried to find some information on line last night but nothing came up. I checked the guest list of the business conclave Vince attended; nothing of consequence came up, a total nothing.”

  “I made some calls to some close friends but nothing there either. If something is going on it’s being kept a well-guarded secret,” James explained.

  “I have a dilemma. Mudd is asking lots of questions; I feel I need to tell him the truth so he won’t go around asking other guests questions. They will either think he is a certified loon or maybe start asking questions causing a mess we don’t need.”

  “Let me call the other guys and I’ll get back later this evening.”

  “Thanks, James, I was sure you could help.”

  Mother felt a feeling of calm. Well, not really calm, but better then before the call. James is a good negotiator. He should be able to convince the other guys to let Mother tell Muddy what happened to all of them.

  The others involved are, Mr. C, Charles Corbin (Chuck) who made his millions in real estate. After he retired he purchased a theatre in lower Manhattan and became a Broadway producer, something he always talked about. And, Mr. V whose full name is Vincent Vettilucci (Vince), worked for his family’s construction company. They built bridges, power plants and many other large projects all around the world. He is also a very fine guitar player. Although he has never played professionally, he could if he wanted. Now he’s retired and sits in with local groups. He always sounds great and the bands always ask him to come back and sit in anytime he gets the feeling. He loves playing.