Cazzey

Cazzey Louis Cereghino was born a rich wealthy landowner with no sense of humor in the North of Italy in the mid-1840’s. Somehow today his statistics portray him as being born in Milwaukie, Oregon thousands of miles away nearly a century and a half later. His gentlemanly duties included sipping tea with locals and galloping lessons with the young ladies of the area. Yet again, the records on paper have overshadowed these testaments. These point to his upbringing including playing baseball, selling his family’s farm vegetables out of a wagon, and involving himself in much mischief—including Nerf Wars. Once again according to record, he has many proud accomplishments. The once commissioner of a city-wide Wiffleball league, this man set his sights on stardom early on and set out to become a well known songwriter. Then he discovered he could sing. Then storytell…and write poetry…and do carpentry…and fix broken machinery. So he moved to where the music and songwriting were—Nashville, Tennessee. He spent his early years in the entertainment world playing his music to a lack of adoring fans across the map. Traveling and living out of his Jeep Cherokee, he globe-trotted forty-nine of the fifty states and even pilgrimaged into Europe, Africa, Asia, and South America balladeering his songs of life. On the downside, he begrudgingly worked often as a fitness model and spokesperson for various outlets and as a maintenance man, but the bills had to be paid. When the lack of opening doors began hurting his face when they slammed, he decided Nashville didn’t have as many opportunities as the great Hell-A. Also known as the City of Angeles in Southern California. So off onto another cross country move he set, stopping back at home to trade vehicles for a burnished almost new 1977 motorhome. Once in Smell-A, Cazzey began immediately singing around town. Speaking his mind about the entertainment industry, he found more than enough writing material. The offers began rolling in…only not for music. The world of Hollywood was encompassing him. Modeling jobs, and movie and television sets became like second homes to him as he took on the role of an apprentice to a casting agent. Here he was introduced to some of the worst screenplays ever scribed. Always a storyteller in his mind, Mr. Cereghino decided that he not only could play the characters that he saw on paper as an actor, but write them as a screenwriter. (a.k.a. homeless artist) No stranger to starting anew, the man began sprouting out screenplays like they were hairs on an Italian man’s back. No offense to his native Italians, by the end of six months Cazzey had nine full-length motion picture screenplays. Now he was ready to pitch himself to Hollywood. Now this supercilious chap was a full package singer-songwriter-balladeer-model-actor-screenwriter. Or was he? No. He was not. He still had to jump through a few more hoops. Not only did he have to commence shaving his face when roles asked it of him, but he decided that once he got a screenplay to the right people, he would then put more meat on the story while he waited to hear back. Six months and one beard down to the middle of his chest later, Cazzey Louis Cereghino was a novelist. The extra meat turned into six-hundred pages of story—and that was just the first of nine novels. Oh great, just another title to add to his already too-long, worthless, overly drawn-out and silly description of what he does for a living. All in all Mr. Cereghino, this ordained minister from a vegetable farm in Oregon leads a simple life. He jumps out of airplanes and off bridges, writes inspirational stories for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, swims in the Arctic Ocean where polar bears roam, plays Wiffleball, lifts weights six time per week, runs marathons while playing the guitar, builds quadruple bunkbeds, ventures to every major league baseball park, goes to every continent, plays sixteen different instruments, takes Italian classes, speaks in American Sign Language and Spanish, surfs (and crashes), travels the world, leg presses 2000 lbs. and benches 431, cooks and bakes specialty items, plays padless tackle football, attacks armed robbers at the grocery store and car thiefs on the street, studies natural science by growing jungles in his abodes, believes he can still run the mile in under five minutes, and embellishes most everything a little bit.