MONEY IS NOT WEALTH

THE CALL: I have tuned pianos located on yachts, railroad cars, even airplanes, so, when I was called to tune a piano in a warehouse on the Philadelphia waterfront, it did not surprise me. What did get my attention was stepping thru the door of the aging brick and sheet metal structure to find myself in a garden, which graced the entrance of a large stone mansion. My first thought was that it was a movie set facade, until the front door opened, and a butler ushered me into the foyer. As my eyes darted about, taking in details, I realized I was in a real house. People actually lived here. It was 1972 and I was in the "home" of one of the wealthiest women in the world. A woman I never expected to meet, let alone wind up working as her secretary for almost a year!
THE WOMAN: My client turned out to be a member of a famous international banking family. She introduced herself simply as Marge.(not real name) Sensing my curiosity, she explained that people in her position run the risk of being kidnapped by third world types who try to fund their revolutionary causes by holding multi billionaires for ransom. Therefore, unusual security measures were called for, such as, a mansion secluded in a warehouse. After I started working as her secretary, I discovered she did not even own a car. Rented limos,taxi cabs, and, car services were used to make her movements difficult to track. She had her own security force who escorted her, and, her teenage son, everywhere, and also guarded the warehouse. Marge, a long time widow, was an attractive plump woman about fifty. Her son, the piano player, was in his late teens. They lived in the mansion with a handful of trusted servants. The mansion also contained an office area for employees who tended to Marge's business interests. As I tuned the piano Marge sat nearby watching me work and asking occasional questions such as how long I had been tuning pianos,was I married, kids, pets, etc. I got the eerie feeling that she already knew what my answers would be.
THE OFFER: I'm neither shy, nor stupid. I swung around on the piano bench to face Marge directly. I told her I could tell the piano had been taken care of regularly, so, I was sure she already had a good tuner. Also, given the security situation, I doubted her staff pulled my name out of the phone book. She admitted to knowing a number of my other clients and to having read various articles I had written for local publications. At that time, I was writing freelance for a number of local newspapers and magazines, a combination hobby and part time job for a young guy with a growing family. She noted that I had several times written that I stayed up half of the night. I noted that since few people take a day off from work to get a piano tuned, it was mostly a 3pm to 10pm job. I normally arose at noon and retired around 5am. At that point, Marge confided that she was an insomniac who napped frequently, but, seldom actually slept. One of her many secretaries, who worked part time from 11pm to 4 am, Monday thru Thursday, was leaving. The job required excellent writing skills. "How much does it pay," I asked? Marge fixed her eyes on me and said, "One of your responsibilities will be writing checks. Write yourself a check each week based on whatever you think your services were worth. If you are being too generous to yourself, I'll fire you." I liked her style. I took the job.
THE JOB: The requirement of exceptional writing skills proved to be untrue, save for writing an occasional letter or R.S.V.P. Mostly I worked the phones, getting people on the line that Marge wanted to speak to. Despite the fact that it was the wee hours of the morning, Marge would have me call bankers, politicians, judges, entertainers, team owners, sometimes, even The White House. Everyone took her call, or, returned it promptly. Her rolodex seemed to contain the home, or mobile number, of most of the important people in the world. Many calls were not pleasant. Marge would berate some half awake congressman saying, "You idiot! Do you think we put you in office to pull a dumb stunt like that? Fix it. Understand?" She would slam the phone down for dramatic effect. The WE she referred to were the others of her ilk. The super wealthy from all around the globe who hold no office, but, run everything. I learned that the life blood of every business, or country, is banking. If you control the banks, you control everything. I could also summon anyone, be they a senator, or, bank president, to the warehouse at any hour that Marge desired. If I told them that Marge wanted to see them at 2:15 AM they showed up, hat in hand. I learned from Marge a new version of The Golden Rule. He who has the gold, makes the rules!
MONEY IS NOT WEALTH: Marge made this point to me by grabbing a stack of fifties out of our "petty cash" drawer and setting them on fire in a waste basket. She said,"See John, cash burns. Money can be stolen, destroyed, devalued. It's useful as a medium of exchange, but, it's not real wealth. Wealth is buildings, land, oil, gas, minerals, precious metals, silver, gold, gems, all of which I have. Paper money is expendable. I don't even know how much of it I have. Actually, people who know how much money they have, don't have that much of it." Part of my job was to use the "worthless" paper money to accomplish whatever Marge wanted. Theater tickets to sold out shows. Tables at the finest restaurants. Private boxes at sporting events. Hotel suites. Charted planes. Anything was available at a moments notice, if, cost was no object. I once hired Duke Ellington, and his entire orchestra, to play at a dinner party for just six people!
EXIT STRATEGY: Eventually, Marge and I formed a comfortable friendship. Many evenings we did not work at all, just talked or watched TV. I often escorted her to social affairs, honing my skills as a raconteur, and, gaining access to people who were normally hard to get interviews with. This moved my freelance writing from local to national publications. Marge was quite generous to my family and I, and, I stayed with her for almost a year before I quit. Why? My first love was, and still is, piano tuning. (See blog: The 88 Key Addiction) The more time I spent with Marge, the less I tuned pianos. Also, the power that I had acting on her behalf, became quite seductive. I had to constantly remind myself that some senator, sports team owner, or, starlet was only chatting it up with me because of Marge. We Welsh have a saying, "Every string has its end." Marge took my resignation with resignation. Almost, as if she had expected it. She made no attempt to change my mind. She just asked that I stay a few more weeks to wrap up some loose ends. "Besides," she winked, "I need time to buy you a parting gift."
THE PARTING GIFT: When one of the richest women in the world says she is buying you a gift, all kinds of thoughts go thru your head. You're like a kid waiting for Santa. On my last day, Marge handed me a thick envelope. "Something you wouldn't buy for yourself,"she said, "a token of my appreciation." The gift turned out to be the deeds to four adjoining cemetery plots in Philadelphia's ritzy, high society, cemetery. My family and I were to someday rest in peace with the rich and famous. Years later, after Marge died, I disposed of the plots.
LATER YEARS: I tuned the piano at the warehouse a few times a year until the mansion was vacated after Marge's death. Sometimes, I would encounter her, but, usually I dealt with a servant. Last year, I took my grandson to see the warehouse which is still standing, and, the mansion still looks to be inside. The complex is now surrounded by a high chain link fence. From rust on the padlock and chain on the double gate, it looks like it has been many years since anyone has been there. A motorized security camera mounted on one corner of the warehouse scanned back and forth. After 36 years one wonders who pays for it, or, who's watching?

FRANK SINATRA "All Aboard!"

SINATRA THE ENIGMA: For several years now many readers of this blog have asked me when I would write about my experiences with Frank Sinatra. I kept putting it off since the subject of Sinatra is vast, complex, and, controversial. Since his death in 1998 at age 82 it seems like a new book comes out every year outlining his remarkable career and promising that the author has gotten to the root of what Sinatra was really like. No one gets it entirely right because Frank was a many faceted person and people became familiar only with those aspects of his personality he chose to show them. Over the years I interacted with him as a musician, piano technician, and fellow toy train enthusiast. I might just as well have been dealing with three different people. Add to this the legends and rumors that surrounded him, most of which he neither confirmed nor denied, and it's no wonder he was a hard character to nail down. I eventually decided not to attempt to do what so many others failed to accomplish. Therefore, I will confine my narrative to our mutual hobby of collecting and operating toy trains. All aboard!

SINATRA THE COLLECTOR: Frank collected and operated toy trains, a hobby that should not be confused with model railroading. Toy trains are the big, heavy, colorful, noisy electric trains that were most popular from the 1920's to 1960's and were a fixture under most families Christmas trees. Almost every major department store had an operating layout on display during the holiday season. As a youngster growing up in Hoboken, New Jersey, Frank made the pilgrimage to Manhattan whenever possible to view the department store holiday layouts and the year round showroom layouts at the Lionel and American Flyer headquarters. Most of us who collect toy trains got hooked on them as kids. Operating them on our home layouts takes us back to our childhood times. The hobby has wide appeal to people in high stress professions. For example, of the nearly thirty thousand active toy train enthusiasts in the United States, the largest single professional group represented are doctors followed by corporate CEOs and CFOs, lawyers, business owners, and, clergymen. People in show business, although the smallest professional group, are naturally the most visible. Besides Mr. "S" there is Neil Young, Rod Stewart, Mandy Patinkin, and, Joe Regalbuto. Now deceased, there was Jackie Gleason, Tom Snyder, Ward Kimball, Dudley Moore, Arthur Godfrey, Tommy Dorsey, and Gary Coleman. In my more than fifty years in the hobby I have had the pleasure of visiting the home layouts of many of these famous collectors. Many celebrity train layouts can be viewed via the Internet. TM BOOKS AND VIDEOS, www.tmbooks-video.com a.k.a. Tom McComas Productions offers many videos of celebrities showing off their home layouts. The one on Frank Sinatra is excellent. For more photos of Frank and his trains see my notes at the end of this blog:

SINATRA'S TRAIN LAYOUT: Hoboken is one of New Jersey's premier communities, but, that was not the case in the "roaring twenties" when the youngster Frank Sinatra started to take an interest in toy trains. Hoboken was the low rent district. In later life Frank would quip, "I was born in Hoboken, but, today, I couldn't afford to live there." Most folks in his neighborhood could not buy electric trains which have always been costly, but, so the story goes, Frank's mother pawned an old fox fur piece she had acquired and bought him his first set of trains. Another often heard tale has Frank and various friends jumping aboard a streetcar every now and then and traveling the dozen miles or so to the Lionel train factory where they would rummage thru the trash bins after hours in search of discarded train parts. From the parts they would cobble together whole trains. Typical of the Sinatra mystique, Frank never confirmed or denied either story. In his glory years Sinatra would stroll the Lionel factory floors with Joshua Lionel Cowen himself as Frank picked out the latest Lionel offerings to add to his growing collection.
Frank collected trains from almost all the major manufactures the world over. The value of his collection eventually exceeded a million dollars. Of course, once the word got out that Sinatra loved toy trains, many came to him as gifts including an antique locomotive courtesy of the Vatican. Tommy Dorsey, one of the first bandleaders Frank worked for, had a huge train layout in the basement of his Bernardsville, New Jersey mansion which Frank enjoyed visiting and operating. Frank was also quite taken with the 1949 Macys, New York, holiday display layout. Sinatra's personal toy train layout not only surpassed both the Dorsey and Macys layouts, but, also gave the Lionel Corporations New York showroom layout a good run for the money! However, the Sinatra collection and layout was not about owning the most toys. It was about fun. I never saw him more relaxed than when he was cleaning or oiling a locomotive, or, at the controls while four or five trains roared around his layout. At the holidays Frank often had neighborhood kids in to not only look at, but, actually operate his layout. The fact that some trains were occasionally damaged by the overly enthusiastic kids did not upset him. Perhaps he remembered his childhood. Frank's fabulous layout and collection were housed in a special building at his Rancho Mirage estate in Palm Springs, California known simply as "The Compound." The two plus acre walled compound sat on the seventeenth fairway of the Tamarisk Country Club and, as I recall, consisted of about eight buildings, tennis and handball courts, and a swimming pool. Some of the buildings were small houses for guests. One was Frank's art studio (another hobby). One was a replica of a Santa Fe railroad caboose that was built up from an actual railroad flat car. I think it was used as a barber shop and exercise room. The trains resided in a replica of an actual railroad station that was located in Ramsey, New Jersey. Lionel also made a reasonable model of this same station. Sinatra crammed his station from the floor to the rafters with wooden display cases and shelves brimming with trains of every type and manufacturer. The huge layout dominated the center of the room. Five trains could be operated simultaneously on the layout while others ran on separate loops or around the ceiling. A prominent area of the layout depicted Frank's home town of Hoboken. Another area of the station served as a library nook for Sinatra's many train books and periodicals.

MR."S" AND ME: In the early 60's I worked in Hollywood as a studio musician and song writer for several major record labels. On occasion I would have reason to interact with Sinatra and we developed a nodding acquaintance. When I opted for the more quiet lifestyle of a piano technician, Frank's long time pianist Bill Miller would call upon me for piano work which eventually led me to occasionally service Frank's personal pianos. At some point Sinatra saw my photo in one of the train magazines he regularly read and made the connection. He looked me up in the national directory of the TRAIN COLLECTORS ASSOCIATION, of which we were both members, and the next time he was performing in my area called me to ask if he could visit my layout. Since we were both night owls we agreed that a late night visit was best for security reasons. Frank arrived around midnight along with his driver and a body guard and we wound up playing with trains till around dawn.
It is reasonable to ask why Sinatra would take interest in me. Collecting toy trains has never been a hobby for the faint of wallet and my income level was upper middle class at best. However, I could write, and so I did, for almost all the major publications in the hobby. This led me to becoming a nationally recognized train "expert" and much in demand as a speaker and clinician at train conventions and shows. This brought many people, who wanted to sell the old trains they found in dad's attic after he passed away, to my door. Manufactures also mailed me their latest new trains in hopes I would mention them in one of my articles. Technically these trains were loaned to me for review and would be picked up by a representative of the company sometime in the future. I'm still waiting. I also had many of my own trains from my youth. Trains were the only birthday or Christmas presents I ever asked for. They made a great foundation to build my collection on. During the 1970s and 80s the general public had no interest in old toy trains and piano tuning clients often gifted me with boxes of trains they were anxious to rid their homes of. So, for Sinatra's part, he had access to a knowledgeable train enthusiast with a first class collection. More than that, however, we shared a lot of common interests. We both collected foreign trains from all over the world. Most collectors stick to American prototypes. Although most collectors prefer freight trains, both Frank and I favored passenger trains and our collections were heavily weighted in their direction. Sinatra, of course, rode passenger trains frequently in the early years of his career. Many enthusiast's have a lot of trains in their collections, for display purposes only, that do not work. Frank and I both agreed that every item in a collection should be operable and spent a lot of extra time and money restoring our trains to top running condition. Sinatra and I were also of the mind that no train was too rare or valuable to operate. We both owned the rare and highly coveted 1957 Lionel pink girl's train sets. Although they were beyond valuable, we both frequently operated them on our layouts. Neither of us were much into the mint, never opened, boxed train sets so many collectors strive to acquire. We both felt that toy trains were made to be toys, and, made to be played with. Over the years we met up at train conventions, shows, swap meets, auctions, etc. We also frequented many hobby shops, after regular hours, of course, and visited numerous layouts of fellow train collectors. Toy trains transported Sinatra light years away from concerts, movies, and, his legendary LasVegas "rat pack." No glitz. No glamour. Just lots of fun!
NOTES;  The November 2015 issue of CLASSIC TOY TRAINS MAGAZINE  has an extensive article on page 28 which features many details and photos of Sinatra's train layout as well as some commentary by me.  The December 2015 issue of CLASSIC TOY TRAINS has vintage photos of Frank and his trains contributed by his grandaughter. See also February 1998 issue of the same magazine.  If you GOOGLE frank sinatra john aaron and/or  frank sinatra lionel trains and/or  frank sinatra house you will find more photos and a several videos including one which is a tour of Frank's entire home including the train layout.

THE SHIRT OFF MY BACK

I was not surprised that the teenage girl sat by the piano chatting with me while I worked on it. Teens usually liked to be around me, and being the youth leader at my church, I was accustomed to interacting with them. Besides, I was the cool guy. A genuine professional musician, with a pony tail. Or, was it my teased out perm phase? (Yes,I had hair once.) Also,since this girl was the piano player, she often coaxed me into showing her some new jazz scale, as her teacher disapproved of anything not classical. I had tuned her piano ever since she started lessons and over the years had taught her many keyboard gymnastics that she enjoyed impressing her friends with. The last thing I expected her to ask me was where she could get a flannel shirt like the one I was wearing. Of course, she knew where to buy a normal sized shirt, but, not where to get a huge 4 XL like mine. It seems the fad among teen girls that year was to wear the biggest flannel shirts they could get their hands on like a jacket. I started to explain that the shirt had to be mail ordered from a big men's speciality catalog, and, since it was a niche market, you had to pay big bucks. Then, came an inspiration! "You know what hon," I said. "This is my last job tonight. I can drive home in my undershirt. It's all yours." How's that for value added customer service? She's a mom now with teens of her own. I still tune her piano. She often tells her kids, "Mister Aaron once gave me the shirt off his back." As I write this the fad with teens is over sized baggy pants. I hope no one asks.

CUDDLY DUDLEY

Dudley Moore is remembered by most people as a comedic actor, but, I revere him as a talented pianist and composer. Born in England, he attended Oxford university on an organ scholarship and went on to become an accomplished jazz pianist. He fronted his own trio for many years while developing his skills as a composer. He wrote many original works as well as new arrangements for existing standards. He also scored a number of films. He often played the piano in his movies. In my opinion, his music career was eclipsed by his more lucrative profession as an actor. I estimate he was married about four times, so perhaps, there was a need for cash flow.

His "Cuddly Dudley" nickname came from the fact that, despite his short stature (about 5'3"), many females found him irresistible. Not only was he once married to Tuesday Weld, but, dated beautiful women such as Susan Anton. He was noted for his charm and wit.

New Jersey was Dudley's residence of choice, and, when he died in 2002 of Progressive Supra Nuclear, a brain disorder, he was buried near his long time home in Plainfield. He was about 66 years old. Although not quite the train nut I am, he had an interest in railroading due to the fact that his father was a railway electrician. Trains were the subject we usually discussed. Model trains were often used in his movies which, presumably, gave him something to play with during lulls in filming.

We met in the 1980's. He was the house guest of piano tuning clients of mine in Cherry Hill, N.J. These folks had an entry level grand piano, purchased more as a piece of furnature, than as an instrument. Were it a car, it would be one of those low priced sub compacts you buy for your kid to drive at college. However, my clients did have me service the piano regularly. When Moore chanced to play it, he was surprised at how good it sounded. He reasoned that if I could make a piano like that sound so good, I would do a marvelous job on the quality instruments he played. He asked his hosts for my number.

CANINE PROTOCOL

About forty years ago,I was tuning a piano in the sitting room of a private country club on Philadelphia's posh "Main Line" when I heard the distinct sound of a pack of hounds. It was the middle of summer, much too hot for fox hunting. I went to the window and observed a jack rabbit being chased by a large pack of beagle dogs, who were being pursued by about a dozen people on foot wearing clothing similar to that which is worn for fox hunting, but, green in color, rather than red. I recalled seeing something similar when, as a youngster, my grandparents took me to Wales to visit some of our relatives. I recalled the activity was called beagleing. A rabbit is not as fast as a fox, and a beagle is not as fast as a fox hound, so, you can run on foot behind the pack. Some time later the beagle chasers came in for afternoon tea and an elderly gent plopped himself in a chair next to the piano. He was gasping for breath as the sweat rolled down his face and neck and disappeared into the collar of his heavy woolen jacket. When he had regained his composure I spoke, "Pardon me sir, I understand the sport of beagleing, but, not the clothing. Since it's summer, why not just wear tennis outfits? It would be so much cooler." He glared at me in disbelief, sizing me up for the peasant that I am, and stated in a disparaging tone of voice, "After all, young man, one owes it to the hounds." Thereafter, if any of our dogs needed some expensive pet accessory, or, if we were handed a large veterinary bill, I would turn to my wife and say, "well my dear, one owes it to the hounds."

HAIL TO THE CHIEF

FACT TO KNOW: When President Clinton was in the midst of his scandals, someone leveled the accusation that, while he was a governor, he used state police officers to find him women to have liaisons with. I don't recall if this charge was ever proved.

THE STORY: It would surprise many to learn that New Jersey has a number of Indian tribes, and, that many tribal members play the piano. Some major in music at college. One day I was on my way to the home of a tribal Chief to tune his piano, when, I happened to hear on the car radio that a law had been passed decreeing that all Indian Chiefs were to be accorded the same privileges as state governors. When I arrived I commented, "Well Chief, I understand you are to be honored just like a governor." The elderly Chief, usually a man of few words, smiled and said, "True, and even as we speak, I have state troopers out looking for women for me."

BLOG NUMBER 19

Mp3 DOWNLOAD: The Drug Dealer's Cat.

Over the past half century I have written a lot of music. A lot of it was published. A lot was recorded by various artists. I earned membership in ASCAP (American Society Of Composers, Authors, and Publishers) and made a bit of money to boot, but, piano tuning and repair has always been my first love. In my younger days I worked for two major record companies almost full time, and, toured with some important artists. During that tenure I learned to produce recording sessions. Today, I often enjoy recording in my home studio. I thought I would share some of my music with my blog readers from time to time. Here is the first offering:

This is a soft jazz piece that I wrote in the late 90's. On the recording I play piano, synthesiser, bass, and drums via studio magic. Like most jazz compositions it goes on forever. Well actually, a bit under seven minutes. I was looking for a catchy title, hence, The Drug Dealer's Cat.

The title is based on a real drug dealer's cat named Pounce. A drug dealer rented a house in my upscale neighborhood in order to sell pharmaceuticals to the affluent kids who attend our local high school. Whenever he opened his door to serve his clients his cat, Pounce, would slip out and usually wind up on my front porch paying a visit to my two cats. Eventually the drug dealer would come by and collect Pounce. The dealer was actually a rather nice guy, given his profession. Like most dealers, he did not use drugs himself and his wife and children seemed well cared for. Our local police made no attempt to arrest him. Once they became aware of him, they simply started parking a police car in front of his house day and night. Of course, this caused his clients to stay away. After a few weeks the drug dealer moved. My wife and I still miss Pounce the cat.

TO GET YOUR FREE MP3 DOWNLOAD E-MAIL rockpresspublishing@comcast.net AND PUT DRUG DEALER'S CAT IN THE SUBJECT LINE. YOU WILL BE E-MAILED BACK AN MP3 FILE. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO HEAR SOME OF MY GOSPEL COMPOSITIONS, WHICH I WROTE, ARRANGED, AND, PLAYED PIANO ON, GOOGLE GOSPEL RECORDING ARTIST JANIE CHRISTINA. TWO SONGS, GOD DIDN'T SEND ME HERE TO LOOSE, AND GRACE, ARE ALSO AVAILABLE AS RING TONES.