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MY STORY

ONE GOOD THING ABOUT MUSIC - WHEN IT HITS YOU IT DOESN'T HURT

-- Bob Marley

THE CURSE OF THE CREATIVE

Also known as, "I have an idea..."

I've always said that my ADHD was perfectly controlled by my OCD. In other words, I finish what I start - even if it kills me. Add to that being blessed (or cursed) with a seemingly indefatigable stream of ideas, concepts, concoctions and hair-brained schemes and you have the makings of what can only be described as a wild ride of a life. Ask anyone who's ever worked with, performed with, or befriended me: they'll roll their eyes and instantly recount some brilliant idea (my words) with all too frequently stupid results (their words). My artistic and professional careers - sometimes separate, sometimes one in the same - are my canvases. And, like many of my kind, the audience is a necessary component. That's where you come in. I hope you enjoy what you see and hear here. If you don't, give me 10 minutes. I'll have another idea.

WOW, DANNY, THAT'S, UH, REALLY SOMETHING

I Blame My Folks

My parents did three certifiably crazy things: 1) They adopted me. 2) They raised me as an only child. And 3) they applauded ALL of my shows/creations/nonsense. They, being of staid, midwestern roots, really had no idea what to do with their exceptionally loud, energetic and productive son. Instead, they simply offered their wide-eyed smiles, clapped on cue, and housed and fed me for what must have been 18 very long, exhaustive years before turning me loose upon an unsuspecting world. But growing up surrounded by so much reassurance and support of my emerging crafts produces an amazing ability to make one think - against all odds - that one is actually interesting and worthy...much to the dismay of those forced to share the room's oxygen with me. To these poor souls, I say, "Get your popcorn, I'll take it from here." To my folks, I say, "Thank you, I love you. This is all your damn fault."

THE BIG APPLE, BITTEN

They Really Did Have To Name It Twice

My professional music career deposited me in lower Manhattan for 24 glorious years. Blather on about your opinions of your own city or town but know that I won't really be listening. That's because NYC really IS everything you're sick of hearing it is. And walking those mean streets from the late 80's through the 20-teens - from filth to resurrection to 9/11 and beyond - defined so much of what I was and was not. Like a misfit toy that finally found his island, I opened my heart and mind to its steely embrace, devouring its endless dimensions of people, art, business and culture. Nothing is better than surrounding oneself with a whole bunch of people that don't look like you. And after growing up in the lily-white midwestern suburbs, I was schooled, tooled and cooled in that cauldron. I finally left for all the right reasons - family and love - but my heart forever beats as the heart of a New Yorker. 

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