An older blog I had. I'm now at www.fatalinterview.blogspot.com

Monday, October 16, 2006

where you bloggin' at?

Until further notice, you can find my active blog at:

www.myspace.com/tonypucci

Thursday, October 12, 2006

of ashes and poems

Yesterday afternoon, I and the rest of the football coaches went out to the stadium field and spread some of my dad's ashes in both end zones and at midfield. It was cold and windy, the first snowfall of the year, and it all felt very appropriate. Tonight I ran the scoreboard for the 9th grade football game, and we won 21-8. Tomorrow night is a big game against one of our cross-town rivals. There should be thousands of people there (around 5000, I'd guess), so it'll really be an event. Or star running back was profiled in tonight's newspaper...it's just my favorite time of year.

In Poetry news, I think I hit upon the theme of the BIG POEM I want to write as the cornerstone to this year's poetry book. I imagine it might be the title piece. I'm considering having a artwork contest for it (at DeviantArt.com), so stay tuned for that. Of course, I can't give the theme away! Not yet. But I'm pleased with the amount and quality of what I've written this year. I always speak of my music as a learning process, and I've been doing that for 25+ years. I've only been writing poetry, seriously, for about 3 years, so I'm noticing much more of a learning curve at this point. It's bullshit to just throw words on paper and call it art. I get such a thrill when I make a good commentary on some aspect of the human condition and it resonates. Funny, I don't sell hardly any of my poetry, but I get just as many comments about it as I do my music. I just got this one yesterday, and wow, I was really flattered!

Sonnets suit you! I have not read anything so beautiful in this form since I last read William Blake, Percy Shelley, or Shakespeare!Fucking fantastic!

And I'm looking forward to working on a new group of poems/lyrics with a special friend...

Cheers, y'all.

Friday, October 06, 2006

baby names

My wife and I have decided on baby names...

If it is a girl, she'll be Lila Kathleen Pucci. Lila for my aunt and Kathleen for Tricia's best friend.

If it is a boy, he'll be Ralph Louis Pucci. Ralph for my father and Louis actually is an old family name, an uncle on my father's side I never met.

Tricia likes Lila and Louie. I think both are perfectly fine. If it's a boy, considering all that has recently transpired, we couldn't name him anything else but Ralph. Tricia fears it's outdated and a name school kids will prey upon, but really, what name isn't? If I had a dollar for every original utterance of "Tony Baloney" when I was young....this way, and thanks to the prompting of her friends (she believes them more than she does me, I work through them now on important matters, haha), eventually Ralph Louis can pick either of the two. I figure a kid growing up in Rochester with the same name on the local football stadium (happening soon, although officially not until next season, from what the grapevine tells me), named in honor of his grandfather, would be pretty stoked to be called Ralph Pucci.

Then again, Tricia and I have, for some reason, completely believed all along that we were having a girl. You never know...time will tell!

*****

Just for the record, in some utopian artistic world, I would pick Leilah Millay Pucci for a girls name. For two of my favorite poets, Leilah Accioly and Edna St. Vincent Millay. Lila actually is pretty close...what matters is that the child is healthy. Heck, I used to think, oh, around age 20, that Melody and Harmony would be good names for a girl. I guess that's obvious, but I always thought it would be fun to say, "how's my pretty little Melody today!?!?"

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Pucci October Sale!

Friends and Family,

Sorry I've been quiet for a while regarding my music. But I'm back now to tell you it's time for the annual "Let's Help Tony Buy His Wife a Decent Anniversary Present" SALE! That's what we'll call it for October, anyway. I'll have to dream up some other names for November and December, as I plan on leaving the sale prices active for the rest of the year. Everything at my site is now on sale, including my CD on Heyday Records, UNFOLDING, as well as my poetry books and private-release slimline CDs.

Click here to go to my main site:
www.tonypucci.com
Once, there you can explore the site by clicking on the words in the RED browser bar at the top of the page. This is where you can find the ORDER page.

Also, UNFOLDING is now available at Mr. Pizza North in Rochester, Minnesota. So if you are in town, stop by for some tasty treats for your mind and your belly!

In other news, a second video for a song from UNFOLDING is in the works, likely for "Girl in Season". Also, I am currently working on recording and producing my latest project, called INCOHERENCE. It is a 30-song, 3-CD box set. I hope to finish it by the end of the year. A limited-time, private release will likely take place for that.

For mp3s and videos of selected songs of mine, as well as my online blog, feel free to stop by my Myspace page:
www.myspace.com/tonypucci

Peace & Love,
Tony Pucci

Monday, October 02, 2006

My Father (part 4/the end)

On that Tuesday afternoon, the public visitation was held for my father. In the back of my mind, I knew and yes, hoped, there would be a good public turnout. We scheduled the visitation from 5pm to 8pm. People started showing up at 4pm, and trust me, consider it a lesson learned, if you can, show up for these things early. I and the rest of my family stood at the end of the line near the coffin for 5 hours, greeting and talking to people. It went on past 9pm. There were people there from every area of life my father was involved in, such as church, school and sports. There were people there from every decade of my father's life, if you can say that. From childhood friends to college buddies to friends, players and collegues here in town. These poeple, some of them for well over an hour, stood in line just for a chance to say goodbye. The genuine sorrow and love in their voices and manner were very touching. It was impressive to witness. I don't think I've ever been hugged so much in one day. I'm not sure what else to say. The amount of flowers we recieved was amazing. As I would say later about the whole situation, it turned out as nice as it could have, considering what the event was. So wierd thinking that my dad would have just loved to see all of those people and talk to them, but then, he was the reason they were there, and I'm sure his spirit was too.

One phrase that has stuck in my mind from this experience is that "having a reserved spot in the front row at a funeral is not all it's cracked up to be." But you do what you have to do. I've lost 3 grandparents, and I miss them a lot and I certainly felt a void when they left. I grieved for them. But without trying to lessen the impact those people had on my life, losing a parent is something even worse. I can't begin to explain how empty my life so often feels right now. But that is something I'll have to be mindful of and will comment on as I continue living. So what about the funeral itself, that was held Wednesday afternoon? Again, a great turnout and it was as nice as something like that could be. The official service is something my dad would have liked. There were eulogies from his oldest cousin, practically a brother to him, along with one from a former player who went on to teach and coach with my dad, and both were equally well-done and enjoyable. At the end, what my dad would have really enjoyed, was a good friend of his who has lead a brass band in this area, played "When the Saints go Marching In" on the trumpet for the recessional, first very slow and sad, and then the next time upbeat, like I guess you'd find in New Orleans. After that he played the high school fight song, and considering the crowd, it was a very appropriate send off.

Later on I went back into the chapel when it was empty, except for my father's casket. It's not that I was having trouble letting go, but I wanted to say one final goodbye. So strangly quiet. So wrong, so lonely, to sense that some building on the edge of town was were we all said goodbye. But our physical self is only a part of our story.

One thing about the funeral that I haven't told anyone yet is something I "saw". To describe it, it is like I saw it with my mind's eye, super-imposed upon what you could actually see with your eyes. At the end of the chapel where the minister was and where the coffin was placed, was a construction of molding on the wall, suggesting a large gate. While the service was underway, not physically but in my mind and heart, I could see those gates opening up, a great white light pouring out, and my father silhouetted against this as he stepped forward into heaven. And if anyone deserved to get into heaven, it was my dad. I don't normally get over-excited about any sort of beliefs, be they Christian or otherwise, but I do have some experiences in my past which make me firmly believe that what I saw truly was happening on some level of existance.

Some of you may know that my wife and I lost a son 6 years ago. What I likely haven't told you is that, individually, my wife and I both had dreams of our son that we consider visitations. Both of these dreams occured about one month after Charlie's death, and during a time when we were struggling very hard with our grief and trying to understand why this had happened. In my wife's case, she dreamed of her great-grandfather fishing with our son, Charlie, on a nearby river. In this dream the great-grandfather told my wife not to worry, that Charlie was with them now and that they would look after him. I myself had a dream in which I saw Charlie playing in my living room. I sat there and watched him, crying. And then Charlie turned to me and said, "Don't be sad Daddy. Those times when my memory crosses your mind are when I'm allowed to come down and visit you."

As I said, when it comes to faith, I don't know what to belief half of the time, I take a little bit from everything out there and assemble it into something in my mind that makes sense to me. But in these dreams I sense an absolute truth, and it has greatly calmed me over the years. When the thought of Charlie does cross my mind, I often will just say a little "Hey Charlie" in my mind, and it is a very peaceful feeling. This is one of the few truths and positives I can find in death. I have yet to have a dream of my father. In fact, I very rarely remember my dreams at all, but I know that sometime soon he will visit me. Not only do I take this on faith, but also because my wife had a dream about my dad this weekend. He was dressed in black, gave my wife a big hug and told here that "everything is going to be OK". Now I don't know if he was talking about life, our grief, or the fact that my wife is currently 5 months pregnant (we lost Charlie when she was 8 months along) and we are worried we'll have to go through the same heartbreak again. But not everything is in our hands, and I do have faith in the spirit of people, be they living amongst us or watching over us. So thanks for visiting Tricia, Dad, I know she took great comfort in that.

As far as the events of this week, I just want to add on final story that happened the next day, on Thursday. I thought it would be appropriate to stop by the place where my dad would have coffee every morning with "the old dudes" (my wife's description). And many of these gentlemen are guys I've known all of my life, and I enjoyed talking with them, as well as representing my dad. I'll likely go back again some day when I have the day off, maybe a Friday. I made it through 2 hours of hanging out with these guys, not shedding a tear, just visiting and reminiscing. But as I turned to leave, one of the most-powerful moments of the whole week took place. There is a young man who works there, I believe he's autistic, and he cleans the tables. I was wearing my "Mayo Spartan Football" jacket, one that says "Coach Pucci" on the right breast. As I was leaving, this man came up to me, pointed at the "Coach Pucci" stitching, and gave me a quizical look. "Yes," I said, "he was my father." This man extended his hand to shake mine, and as I took it, he collapsed into my arms and started crying. Oh my god, I lost it too. Later on, the guys at the coffee table said it was one of the nicest things they'd ever seen. But what this illustrates is the great character my father had. He treated everyone, and I seriously mean everyone, with the greatest of respect and dignity. It didn't matter what your status was in life, my father always had a smile and kind word for everyone. I still get choked up about this story. I am unbelievably proud of who my father was, and I am very inspired to live up to his fine example.

****************

This concludes my blogging about the week I lost my father. My deep thanks to those of you who have read every word. I guess I'll write about more "normal" things now. But I want to tell you all this: your success in life, your true legacy, the greatest accomplishment you can ever do, is to be a good person and do your best to take care of your family and your friends. Life is too short to not be a good person for others. It doesn't matter how many songs you write, how many CDs you release, how much money you make, how many cars you own, or anything like that. Sure, enjoy your interests and have fun participating in them. But what people will remember about you is your smile, the tone of your voice, and if you were someone who cared for and loved others. Be a good person and a good mentor. Shine brightly with a joy and love of spirit.

Like my father, Ralph Pucci.

With love,
Tony

Friday, September 29, 2006

My Father (part three)

To illustrate how well-known my dad was in town, as we were driving to the hospital in the ambulance, the driver and I were talking. He started to piece things together and then he exclaimed, "Is that Coach Pucci back there?!?!", and he stepped even more down on the gas pedal. It turned out he had played for our cross-town rival high school, John Marshall, in the early 90s.

The last thing about Saturday that I forgot to mention in the previous entries was the hour plus some my mom and I spent on the phone that evening, verbally filling out and approving the organ donation process. I wholly support organ donation and have it marked so on my driver's license, I don't know if my father did. But regardless, some unlucky guy at the hospital had the job of calling us and going through a detailed medical history, "recorded for legal reasons" and all of that. My mom wanted me to do it, so I started out the conversation, but then the questions were getting to the point where I kept having to ask my mom what the history was, so I just gave her the phone. The whole point is it was just an overall exhausting day. Between my work schedule, working those soccer games starting Saturday morning, all of the business that ended up being Saturday, and then just shocked to the point where I couldn't sleep, I later realized I only got 5 hours of sleep those first 3 days. And I lost 10 pounds in a week (but that's a good thing).

Sunday morning at 10am, my mother and I went to the funeral home. We went through the long process of answering all of the director's questions, as well as picking out a casket. Even though my father would eventually be cremated, we'd decided on a public service, and I guess you have to cremate right away or else you have to embalm the body. So, news to me, they now have a line of "cremation caskets". We picked out, in the funeral director's words, "the updated version of the old pine box", mostly because it looks a lot like the woodwork at our family cabin, and Dad would have liked that.

I'll spare you the details, but I was absolutely shocked at the cost of everything related to a funeral. Is that "industry" regulated? I imagine the processing of the remains is regulated, but what about the costs of everything???

I realize now that I was totally thinking my dad would be with us for a long, long time. His father lived until 95, and just passed away a couple of years ago. My dad's mom is still with us at 92, as I mentioned. So in the back of my mind, I realize I thought 70 was very young for my father, relatively speaking. Also, with my grandmother (and her mother before that) having Alzheimers, I actually was worried that I would someday be caring for my father in that condition. You never know, do you? I picked up the death certificate the other day and the primary cause of death was listed at "Ischemic Heart Disease". The doctor told my mom that my father had an "electrical storm" (that's what they actually call it) in his heart. In other words, every circuit fires off at once, and unless you are practically wearing a defibrilator (or have a pace maker installed), you're out of luck. The doc said people that this happens to drop instantly, and there really isn't anything you can do. I guess it's quite common. I guess doctors have lots of names and varieties of heart attacks...like Norwegians have 40 different names for types of snow. The good news is that it was pretty instantaneous. I guess when my time comes I don't want to see it coming and don't want to know it's happening to me.

Today now I am actually a bit pissed off about it all. I just miss him. Not even so much as a son, but just as a guy. He was a great guy, and always fun to be around.

Enough of Saturday. Sunday morning we were finally able to get a hold of my brother. We had thought we was out in California on business (he travels a lot for work), but his plans had changed and we didn't know it. So we were only trying his cell phone, not his home phone or cabin phone. Eventually we got a hold of his wife's parents in Colorado, and they said, "oh, they're at their cabin this weekend". Duh, we should have been trying all of his phone numbers anyway, I guess we were just a bit blinded by the shock of it all. I had the misfortune of waking my brother up and telling him the bad news. I think he just went silent for about two minutes, before we started talking a little bit. He then flew in on Monday. One of the nice benefits of this whole experience was sharing a whole week with my brother. He's 9 years older than I am and with life and all, I haven't gotten to spend more than a day or two with him since I was 9 years old.

The other surreal event on Sunday was picking out a picture for the obituary and funeral pamphlet. After a while, we decided to go with one of his coaching pictures, near the end of his career, after a big victory. My dad has a big grin on his face and is surrounded by celebrating players. I know I didn't want one of those somber, stiff, official portraits, so I'm glad everyone was of the same mind. Since I am the only one in the family who is computer savvy, it was my job to scan and crop the photo and email it to the funeral home and the newspaper. Like I said, so surreal.

Sunday night we'd spent some time trying to contact some of the far-flung friends of my father. I'd actually left a message with the Buffalo Bills for Marv Levy (I wasn't sure if I'd navigated their automated message system correctly) that night. A rare treat for me was Monday morning, when I got to talk to Marv Levy at the Buffalo Bills headquarters. For those that don't know, Marv was my father's college basketball and football coach, and later hired my dad to be one of his assistant coaches at William and Mary College in Williamsburg, Virginia (where I entered this whole picture). Marv went on to be the head coach of the Kansas City Chiefs for a while, and later on, directed the Buffalo Bills to 4 straight Super Bowl appearances. Marv is now the general manager of the Bills, so he's a busy guy. Two years ago he released his autobiography and mentioned my father in it, which was pretty cool to see. Anyway, I got to talk to Marv for about 10 minutes. I had always heard and felt that he was a great guy, and that impression was only strengthened after our talk.

The main family event on Monday then was the private family visitation. And a part of this was decorating the visitation room with pictures and other objects from my dad's life. At first, we'd just thought of putting a few pictures up, but eventually we made up 3 large poster boards of snapshots, brought every single football team picture between 1972-1997, along with some formal pictures, like my parent's wedding photo. We also had a section dedicated to his college days. As I will detail later about the public visitation, I am glad we went all out with the display (and thank my brother for that). I won't talk much about the private family visitation, it was tough. It was the first time for the family to see my father like that, as only Tricia and I had seen him at the hospital.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

a bit of incoherence

Work has been slow the last few days. I've taken 12 hours of PTO (personal time off) this week, so I haven't had a chance to be online too much. I'm going to finish writing about the week I lost my father...sorry for taking two long blogs just to cover Saturday...Day One. I think the rest of the days will go faster, as far as my writing about them is concerned. I think a positive sign at the moment is I have continued working on a musical project I had started before my father's passing. It's a 30 song, 3-CD box set with lyric book, to be called INCOHERENCE. Basically putting a certain period of my life to rest. Funny how I was starting to let go of a certain daydream...looking towards the future and trying to be more realistic...and then my father died, thus causing me to realize I need to take on more responsibility, live in the moment with my family, as opposed to forever seeking out some idealistic dream world. Synchronicity.

www.tonypucci.homestead.com/inco_main.html

Well, as you can see the lyrics are all written, although I am reserving the artistic right to change anything up until the last minute. All of the guitar tracks are done. By the end of tomorrow, I hope to have all of the bass and vocal tracks done. After that I'll add synth where I feel it is necessary, sequence the drums, and mix the whole thing. Believe it or not, I wrote all 30 songs in one week...that's just how I work. There are some very cool vibes going on, and I am really looking forward to hearing the finished CDs. But what a fucking mountain to climb! It's bad enough trying to finish off 10 songs...but 30???!!!?!?! I can tell you it takes about 4 hours on the average per song to take it from start to finished track.

So, I just need to get paid for this, and it'll all work out, right?!?! Haha, if only it could work that way...
-------
On a sad note, last night I attended the visitation for a friend. The brother of one of the football coaches I work with passed away at age 30, very unexpected. It's been a bad year for the team, huh??? Man, you just never know. The visitation/funeral is actually at the same place my father's ceremonies were held in, so afterwards I "killed two birds" with one stone and picked up my father's ashes and death certificate. This is the second time now in a few years that I have had to drive a loved one "home" in this state. Life is very surreal sometimes.
And I got word this morning that the husband of one of our fellow Hotelwombers passed away on the 22nd....only found out he was sick last month...

Enough death, please. Let us live for a while and reinforce our love and resolve.

Hugs, everyone.