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The French Connection

27 Mar

Hello EFBloggers Its story time again!

So, a few years back I was on tour in Europe with my band, and it came time during this leg of the tour were we would have a few days of down time before continuing with the rest of the tour.

At this particular moment we were in France, and in being so, I decided to visit a very close cousin of mine living in a small old sleepy village within Aix-en-Provence area. I love these places; small local business still owed by the same families for generations on; cafes, pastry shops, restaurants with peasant rustic-earthy old school cooking, and vineyards – ahhhh yes the vineyards. Small, with only a few acres providing some of the most outstanding fresh reds and especailly their world known dry-Rose’; these Rose’ are the best in the world bar non! In towns like these, everyone knows everyone, it is very local friendly and self sufficient to each others specialties. For instance you can just walk up and buy what you need from the vineyard for only a couple of bucks a bottle of for a little more buy a container which carries a few gallons – plus allowing you down to venture in their cellars touring their fermentation process in the huge oak vats, and having a taste right from them; simply no hoopla, just a way of life were nothing much changes – I found it simply bliss, and have retuned a few times since.

Anyway I’m getting away from why I wanted write this little tid bit in the first place (sigh!)…

So here I was hanging with my cousins in his little rustic style restaurant he owned then; he too is a musician and in his restaurant he would sing and play acoustic guitar – French and Italian folk songs, pretty cool stuff. One night after closing we decided to go to one of those local cafes in this small semi-unscathed WWII town for drinks; french local favorite, Pastis.

While sitting there chatting, something caught my attention; a small wooden wall on a building across the darken street. As I looked and barely make out, a figure of a person on a poster, and although I could not really make it out from that distance, my eyes were drawn to it anyway.

After a while I asked my cousin what that building was, he mentioned that it was the local movie theater, but it was only opened on weekends, and since this was week day, it was closed. A few minutes latter I mentioned that I wanted to walk over to see what this poster on wall was calling my attention so much. So we walked over and well, Well, WELL! My eyes grew big football sized marbles – it was a poster of none other that our man Flynn, wow! Gentleman Jim. The poster was a copy of course, and not in full color, more to the style of sepia, very cheaply made – I told my cousins that I had to have this poster -problem was, it was put up with some roll on paste/glue, in the same way you would find on many walls of the streets of New York. He told me that we beter not for we may get in trouble if a gendarme happens to come by, but I told him that this has been up for such a long time that don’t believe its of real interest to the owner of the theater any longer, in fact we might be doing him a favor to remove it for him.

Well they said they would be at the little ice cream shop down the street waiting for me. Ok I said, and started to peel the poster off the wall; unfortunately it started to rip in places from the dried up glue they used to post it, plus its cheap paper of which it was printed on.

Eventually I did get it off the wall, rolled it up, and for the rest of my tour it was packed away until I got it back to the states. I tried the best I could to fix it and re-cover the damages, but as you can see in the pic, that was the best I could do.

It is a cheap copy for sure, nevertheless it is still a gem to me, another Errol Flynn jewel I have in my pocession (not that I have anything of great value from EF) for keeps sake.

Actually the adventure adds a lot to my posters personal value; I felt like a cat burglar who never got caught with the taking in the crown jewels. LOL! It adds adventure to conversation.

Not much there yet I hope you can see the my joy in it…

Au revoir mes amis….

[flagallery gid=28]

— Sergio

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The Sahara Connection

24 Mar

Many years ago I remember a conversation I had with a gentlemen who was family, though not blood related- my brothers and I considered him like an uncle, in fact we called him uncle John. He was involved with real estate in NJ where we lived at the time, he also dabbled in places like South Florida and Los Angeles – although never spoken about, we knew there might have been a “Wiseguy” connection; gulp!

He knowing that my father and mother wanted to move to South Florida, offered my parents a wonderful deal in the purchase of a motel that needed much work in the South Florida area known as Hollywood. In taking a leap of faith my parents took the chance and in time with a lot of hard work we made it happen.

Soon after we moved into that south Florida motel, uncle John made one of his visits. He and I were having a conversation when he brought up a real estate transaction he once was involved with in what I believe was in the 1950’s. In it he mentioned one of the players in this deal was none other than our man Flynn, himself! He asked if ever I had heard of him? To his surprise he learned very quickly how EF was my film idol. He proceeded to tell me a story of that transaction real estate that also involved EF; a partnership of a South Florida (North Miami Beach) area resort hotel called the “Sahara”.

In his telling of the story he told me how Errol loved the beaches there and spear fishing, which I knew that this would have been very true, for growing up in those same south Florida beaches, I and most of other teenagers, etc. would also spear fish while either snorkeling or scuba diving. Soon thereafter I followed up with becoming a lifeguard on those same beaches, in fact at another beach resort hotel right down the street from the Sahara. Everyday going to and fro work I would always slow down and look at the Sahara, and think how cool it would have been hanging out there with Errol spear fishing; to have been born a few years earlier, maybe I too could have had the opportunity to have joined him on his yacht, the Zaca, wow! that would have been something.

In any case, uncle John told me stories of how he, Errol and others would hang out while he was at the Sahara indulging in Errol’s pastime, a few drinks. They would pick Errol’s head about his days of Robin Hood or Captain Blood, etc., which according to uncle John, Errol would talk about them yet not with great pleasure. What a shame I used to think, to be so big in life to so many and yet for Errol to regret them in such a way. A few short years later, I in some way too got to understand this; prancing around on Rock and Roll stages, and not really being appreciated for what my real musical capabilities were, for you sort of feel like a cartoon freak as appose to the real hard studies you put in your craft. In saying this, we all know how Errol knew it himself to be better than that of what he was so looked upon; a character in tights and a sword.

I believe the Sahara is still up, but since I have not ventured that way in a good few years, I cant say for sure, nor to what capacity it resembles of old (see pics) – I also remember reading somewhere in one of my many books I have on Errol, maybe it was in “My Wicked Wicked Ways” or some other literature, which makes its mention of his association with that Sahara. Also if I remember correctly, he did not fare well with it soon there after – sounds like another of Errol’s later years in bad investment choices.

To me in some way feel blessed to have someone known close to me who actually knew the king of cinema, Errol Flynn, himself! and to have heard some very cool stories first hand, and although I would have preferred to have been there myself, I guess this is a second best….