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Profile SnitchFall 2003...I was out of work, just about outta life and scraping change to get a cup of coffee. As I was walking across the street, an idea hit me to start a poetry jam, perhaps in the venue I was about to walk into- a lil oasis called Serenitea. Joanna Jones had gave me mad luv through the years as a customer ( I regularly sauntered in while waiting for the bus before night shifts as an EMT). I asked, she smiled and kindly opened her doors with an open mind and an open heart, as was her custom with many artists, poets, and musicians in the area. In doing so, the ball was rolling.I wandered down the street to a jam at Geronimo's and floundered about trying to bust some rhymes n poems, occassionally struggling on the bass as well. A sax player named Ophir showed up and was warming up when they called my spot. The cat was smokin, and I knew his horn was ready to play. After a little confusion about who was playing what set ( I was more than obliged to kick back and listen first) we struck a deal- He would play first if he would also play on my set. A friendship was struck, and Ophir introduced me to various jams in the area. One night, they were playing Watchtower, and unbeknownst to me, he was also a harp player. This cat ripped it, to the point where the band actually stopped playing...I had to play the harp. A friend of mine, a trumpet player I had been on the outs with for a few years, told me once he dreamed about me playing a harmonica, and suggested I get one...I laughed (this was long before my playing days), and didnt think much of it till that night. O put a harp in my hand and introduced to me a long running blue jam hosted by the Pawnshop Bound Blues band at the Wagon Wheel in Bergenfield. The Lone Wolf, Michael Augenti, was the guitar player in that band, and Sunday after Sunday, I would beg my woman at the time to go down there and listen to the "the Blues". I had never heard true blues, but here I was now, hooked. Every once in a blue moon, they would let me bust a little poetry like a beatnik, and I would jump at the chance. Those formulative stages kept me movin, and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be...As a man in Clarksdale, the Gas Man, once told me, "You don't find the blues, you are born em, and one day they finds you. You either play em, or they kill ya, plain and simple. Now you gotta figure out what you gonna do with 'em."Some five years later, I'm the harp player in the Lone Wolf's band...Go figure. to be cont...layout

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