A Calabrese Family History Lesson

In anticipation of our shows in Italy, I thought I’d share some Calabrese family history. I received this information from my Aunt. So, get ready for a pop quiz at our next show!

Spoiler Alert – We have no ties to the mob (that we’ll admit).

Vincenzo Raphael Calabrese

Our great grandpa, Vincenzo Raphael Calabrese, was born in 1878. His family lived on a farm and grew grapes in a town called Foggia. It’s located on the Adriatic Sea side of Italy but in the interior, parallel to Naples.

One day, our great grandma Celeste was working in the fields near Foggia when a shirtless Cavalry Officer rode up to her. His red chest hair glistened in the hot shining sun and she instantly fell in love. That Officer was our great grandfather who had been drafted into the Cavalry at the age of sixteen. They soon married.

After his service great grandpa opened a small business in Naples and they had two children. But due to a poor economy (southern Italy was very poor) he lost his business and decided to immigrate to the United States. He left Celeste and the 2 children with her parents and made the trip alone. This was around 1900.

Leaving Italy for work was very common at the time. But in prior years people looked for work in other European countries. The steamboat companies who made a good profit on transporting immigrants had advertised the opportunities in the United States, and fortunately, great grandpa fell for it.

Like all immigrants, great grandpa searched out family when he arrived in the US. One of his cousins lived in Chicago so that’s where he arrived.

Great grandpa’s cousin got him a job with Pullman (a company that built railroad cars). This was a pretty good job but he didn't like the structured life in a factory. So, he got a job with the railroad as a cook. He liked working for the railroad since it was out in the open, allowed him to travel and gave him a sense of freedom (the same reasons he like the cavalry). He worked along the western railroad line going through Nebraska.

  

Meanwhile back in Italy, great grandma Celeste dealt with the loss of their two children due to cholera. After the children's deaths, she decided to make the trip to America. Without knowing a singe word of English, she crossed the ocean alone on the boat. She wore around her neck hung a hand written card with her name and destination. Somehow, she found her way to Chicago and learned that her husband left to work on the railroad, so all alone she kept searching and headed out west. Finally, after all her searching Celeste and Vincenzo reunited in Nebraska. They started a new family and settled down in Hastings Nebraska.

Nebraska had plenty of work until after world war one. Great grandpa worked on farms, and they ended up having nine children. Our grandpa Raphael was the second oldest child and oldest son went to work on a corn farm. And one year he had to eat corn all summer. At that time our grandpa Raphael would have been about ten years old.

Vincenzo and Raphael

Great grandpa then decided to come back to Chicago and start working for Pullman again. He kept his early love of farming and grew grapes at his Chicago home and made wine for himself and family. This was just before the Depression in 1929, so the house they bought was at an inflated price (sound familiar?). After the crash, great grandpa lost his job and never worked again. Our grandpa Raphael then raised his brothers and sisters along with his own family.

Grandpa Raphael

So the family tree is as follows; Great grandpa Vincenzo married Celeste. They had a son Raphael (our grandpa) who married Helen. They had a son James (our dad) who married Judy and they gave birth to 3 sons Jimmy, Bobby, and Davey who became The World’s Greatest Horror Rock Band...and the rest as they say is "history."

Notes From The Road - Nashville, TN. @ The Bottom Lounge

Burlesque, booze and bands. That pretty much sums up The Goon 10th anniversary show. In 2009 Eric Powell invited us, and our good pals Ghoultown, to play his event.  The show was held at the Bottom Lounge in Nashville Tennessee.

It was a dark and dreary day and it didn't start raining till the end of the show while we loaded up the gear.

We were the first to arrive and the place was an empty warehouse. Getting pre-show jitters I worried that the place could NEVER fill up. But with the power of The Goon, 3 bands and a ton of burlesque dancers it was a lock.

A few hours before the show Santi from Ghoultown lead us to a hidden location a few blocks away were we could buy coffee. We ended up at this trendy bar hidden within the factory buildings.  We entered the bar with Santi in his cowboy hat, boot spurs and bullet bandelero, but since it was Nashville they only thought Bobby and I the freaks with our greaser look.

(Lyle from Ghoultown and Bobby)

I remember seeing a lot of the people we met at DragonCon at the show. And we got to hang with Eric for a while before the crowd showed up.  Once again we forgot to make it a Kodak moment and didn't take any pictures with Eric.

To close out our set we called Ghoultown and Eric up onstage to sing some Misfits tunes to end the night.

Notes from the Road – Yuma AZ. @ Prison Hill

In 2007, we played on Prison Hill in Yuma Arizona -- literally on Prison Hill. I remember Bobby set up this show with some kid through MySpace. It sounded sketchy at first, but it ended up being one of my favorite shows.

I can't imagine how these kids started hosting punk rock shows on the hill, but I salute them for their DIY attitude. Our friends ORDER OF THE FLY have played on Prison Hill and said they had fun too, but they also said they had a hard time with powering all their amps and keyboards. I didn't understand why they had a problem till we got there and found out they ran the power from a small gas generator. I remember I kept eyeballing the gas generator because it looked less than half full even before the first band played. The kids assured me it would last all night, and he was right.

These kinds of shows must have been going on for a while because when the sun set more people showed up. By the end of the night, the hill was packed. I thought for sure the police would arrive and shut down the outdoor party, but they never did.

These pictures don’t do it justice. The energy from the crowd was amazing. The sky was filled with stars, and the weather was cool and energizing. Also our friends SATURDAY NIGHT SHOCKERS stopped by and played that night as well.

The following pictures I found on my computer from the show. I didn't note who took them, so if it was you let me know!

Notes from the Road – Antioch CA. @ The Mutiny

I've decided to finally to something with all the pictures I've been taking when we play shows. So keep an eye out for new blog updates called -- Notes from the Road. Here's the first of many...

In 2008 we played a small town called Antioch in California at a bar call The Mutiny. The night Bobby learned a valuable lesson.

During the show, Davey and I noticed that Bobby was not around to watch the other bands. Later, we found out that someone bought him beers and shots at the bar on the lower level. Normally we don't drink when we play a show and here’s a good example why.

I knew we were in trouble when we played the first song -- I mean tried to play the first song. We might as well have handed the guitar to a monkey in diapers, cause Bobby could barely play. That was the longest set of my life, good thing everyone else was drunk. It’s odd that everyone whooped it up, as if they didn't notice the tragedy unfolding on stage. I guess when the music is loud and the audience wasted you can't go wrong. Then it happened, the police showed up and shut down the show. They must have heard how bad we were playing. We were told about a noise curfew after 1am. Small towns, go figure. I couldn’t have been more happier.

I have a theory about drinking and playing music. I think you need to start drinking when you start playing otherwise the booze to music ratio is totally fucked. I know if I drink and play music I'll forget lyrics, lose my finger position on the bass, and burp a lot. What a lovely image that is.

I have also noticed in our travels that often when a band calls for the audience to bring them beer, the band SUCKS. This is especially true when they call for the audience to bring them shots, and 100% guaranteed when they call for booze before they even play the first song.

At the bar someone informed me that Ed Hardy was once a respectable tattoo artist before his art was put on clothes for duchebags.

Now that’s what I call art.

The sun shined while a soft breeze rustled the trees. Like Mayberry from The Andy Griffith Show, but with punk rock music.

-Jimmy