Mr Zimmerman

My Father was the Bandmaster for the Navy Band on the AFSOUTH Base in Naples Italy. Actually, I think he should write a book about his life, its so much cooler than mine!! Since I seem to have this obsession for writing conveniently coupled with a seemingly incurable post menopausal insomnia I'll write a few things about him myself? I guess he can always reference my book when writing his own. I dream big. Why Not.?


My whole life, and to this day, people come up to me and say.. "We love your father!"

He is a musician to the core. Started playing trumpet earlier than humanly possible. I don't think little kids have the lung capacity to really be good trumpet players. For that instrument you really need to be patient and wait till your body grows into it. Well, he stuck with it.

He joined the Navy with the promise of being able to see the world and do the one thing he found most satisfying . Play his beloved trumpet. But my father doesn't just do something the best he can and then be content with it. No. Now see, most guys would be like "Awesome dude I get to play my horn and eat and sleep get paid and probably get laid! Why would I want to do anything else? " But Jake, he would never be happy with just that. Jake became the face of The Navy Band. The Navy Band was created to preform at ceremonies to greet the Admiral or to greet our brave military Fleets and in ceremonies to bestow medals of honor.

Jake realized that there was so much more these guys could do. Some of them were so good they deserved to receive a round of applause every now and then. Like the singing in a church, applause is not given much during these stuffy ceremonies. So The Band Master broke up the big band and created several small touring bands. He convinced the Admiral.. or whomever he had to,to sell this idea , that a touring band would do wonders for NATO relations with the Italians.

So the touring band traveled in their bus to picturesque little towns all over southern Italy. Someone would go ahead a few weeks and plaster posters on 2000 year old walls that read. "Maestro Jacobus and his Cinque South Band, here August 15 in the piazza. Show starts at 7:00 come early for a good seat.( insert photo of the poster in Patricia's house)

Jake and his crew would arrive in the village like Rock Stars. His lead singer Ed Posey an elegant dark skinned man whose voice.. even while talking... was so deep and so smooth that I imagined there was butter permanently melting in his throat. I once overheard my mother say that after a gig Posey got naked, jumped on a table, and began to walk as if he were on a fashion runway. She said all of his pubic hairs were neatly combed into a swirl all around is dark penis. Ed Posey was the closest friend my Father had in those days. Posey was like a brother to him and an uncle to me. It was Posey who rescued me when I opened the double doors of the bandroom one night to find a giant screen showing a hairy butt rhythmically bouncing up and down. That's all I saw, Posey with his long legs leaped down from the third level seating area scooped me up and carted me off so fast I didnt know what the heck had just happened.


A flurry of excitement hung over the piazza as the band unloaded all their gear, set it up, tested the mikes... test test.... test 1.... test 2, Sometimes I even got to say test test on the mike. Then the audience would take their seats in anticipation, lights beamed onto the stage, Posey the voice, Jake on the horn, Frank on the strings,Robbie on the keys and Dan the percussion. They would come out on that stage like giants, bigger than life. The small town Italian audiences with their chunky coral necklaces and shimmery shawls draped over pefectly sun tanned summer shoulders would dance and gyrate all night long. The entire piazza rocked. Jake even had a number he did in Italian where he actually, in classic strip tease fashion seductively removed his tie threw it in the audience, unbuttoned his shirt slowly maneuvered himself out of it then threw it in the audience while signing in a Louie Armstrong voice. '

None festa pero Al Uficio non andro Ongi Giorno sepre li, ma perche ? ma Perchi? Sta Mattina non mi va Voglio dare un calcio a tutta la citta. Amore Mio vieni anche tu, il capo uficio mandamo lo su!!! .

I wonder if the Navy ever questioned why this cat needed so many ties and shirts.

So my Dad was a star. Im sure he had his groupies and fans just like any other star.


One of his fans was my 4th grade teacher Mr Zimmerman. Mr Zimmerman was a Jolly ole Chap... No wait a minute .. he was Jewish! I just now figured that out!!! He had a beard that covered most of his face with the heaviest part under his nose and around his mouth so that his lips had to be super huge in order to even notice them when he spoke. He wasn't too much taller than my 10 year old height at the time. He did have a huge pregnant looking tummy. His tummy must have been so heavy to carry around because it caused him to have and long deep curve of his back. I don't think the evolution of man involved this body type. Think about it. Primitive man had to do some serious evolving of the spinal cord in order to be able to finally walk upright. I just don't think it would have happened with the deep curvature of the spine that a permanent giant pregnant belly would cause. The belly makes me think that there is a possibility that Mr. Zimmerman was an alcoholic. He did seem to be gone from the room for long inappropriate amounts of time. I remember seeing him on more than one occasion roaming the halls with a metal flask and frolicking around with Mrs. Fletcher ... my sisters teacher, next door.

Chronic alcohol abuse impairs nutrition absorption. Metabolically, alcohol is as efficient as fat in promoting obesity. However, alcohol unlike fat, displaces nutrients from the diet and interferes with the body's metabolism . Most dramatic is alcohols effect on the metabolism of the B vitamins Foliate and Thiamin. This has a toxic effect that produces inflammation and TA DA beer belly syndrome. ( Understanding Nutrition 11th Edition, Whitney and Rolfes pg 244)

One thing I do know for sure about Mr.Zimmerman, he thought he was a performer.


One year Zimmerman had a leading role in a play where my father was the conductor. The Little Theater Naples production of Guys and Dolls. I use to go to the rehearsals with my father and sit in the seats of the theater and watch as every week the show would come together a bit more until the glory of opening night. I got to know every phrase of dialogue every lyric in every melody that was played. I began to decipher the people that were talented and those that were just faking.

Mr. Zimmerman was not that great. I could tell because my Father paid absolutely no attention to him. If you're no good at what you do, he has no time for you at all. His best friends have always been people who have excelled in their craft... and there haven't been too many... But problem is, Mr Zimmerman thought he was hot shit. He expected me to come to class the next day and talk about what hot shit he was in rehearsal the night before and that all you people better go see the play.

I was kinda special in his class. I got to wash down the chalk board all the time.. big honor important job. I got to pass out papers.... Even bigger Job, here you are asserting a position of authority over the seated student. I was often hall monitor, and whenever something needed to be taken to the office it was me he trusted to get it there.

It was the year of the oral report. You could pick any subject. You had to find out everything you possibly could in that subject, make a visual board and once every Friday a student would stand in front of the class and make a presentation. The presentation would stay up for the whole week until the following Friday when the next students work would be the display.

I chose Trees. Not sure why I chose trees. But I managed to find dozens of pictures of trees. Probably from the New Encyclopedia Britannica... our Internet back then. Well, I proceeded to build my visual,cutting out as many images of trees I could get my hands on. I probably carved and cut up so many books, I must have gotten in big trouble for that. I got so carried away with it, it was the best visual of anyone, I was the star, I was the favorite, I was the daughter of Jake he was the coolest!!

So my visual was finally completed, an entire wall of many beautiful photographs of trees. Everyone came in from recess. Settled into their little schoolhouse desks rested their elbows on top, propped up their chins and prepared to listen to the most exciting report ever given at Forrest Sherman Elementary.

As I stood there in front of all of those listening eyes I suddenly realized I had absolutely nothing to say. So I pointed to a pretty tree with white bark, looked at the name that was printed in the lower corner. I said, "This is a B.I.R.C.H. tree Its my favorite.'' Then I took a bow. The kids all clapped and I sat down.

Mr Zimmerman didn't clap. Actually I think that from then on he realized I did not have that star quality that Jake had. My opinion as to how well he did in rehearsals began to lose its luster for him. I guess had I been at home doing my homework learning about trees, I may have had a better outcome on the report. But you know what .. I wouldn't trade those nights in that little theater for anything!! The richness of my experience in those velvety seats watching my beautiful father conduct the band while helping direct and coach the singers, the actors the musicians..the stage hands …..the props.... seeing it all come together to become probably some of the best productions that little theater put out... that was truly priceless.

So fuck you Mr Zimmerman.... You sucked anyways you fat ole fart.



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