Connections

Connections

Mrs. Williams struggled her way through the door, gently kicking it closed as she entered the classroom. She thumped a heavy box onto her desk and took out a small brown bag, opened it, and savoured the bagel from inside, as she sat on top of the desk. The college music students were always full of energy. Mrs. Williams had a great music history, playing with the Jazz Giants in Toronto, Rob McConnell and the Boss Brass, Guido Basso, Duke Ellington, and Count Basie. Even with the excitement of this being the last class for these graduating Jazz students, as soon as Mrs. Williams raised her hand silence spread across the room. All of Humber College’s Jazz teachers were professional musicians but Mrs. Williams was the student’s favorite. Teaching Business and Marketing, her lessons could make a music career possible. As the class settled into their chairs, Mrs. Williams handed out a stack of Moleskine Pro hardcover Notebooks, one for each student.

With no yearbooks to collect contact information from classmates, Mrs. Williams suggested signing each others Moleskine books. “In every business, but none more so than music, connections are vital, you may need a last-minute sub for a gig or a musician for a recording. Keep these books and fill it with important information to help you throughout your career,” she advised. The students cheered out “We’re going to miss you Mrs. Williams,” and buzzed around the room signing each other’s books. The room was full of excitement and a little sad that this was their last day together. Everyone talked about their plans for the coming summer, most had local jobs. Alex, a tall saxophonist was starting a job with the City, working at a sports complex. It was a secure job and Alex planned to continue gigging after work. Everyone was envious until they heard Tommy’s plans. To celebrate graduating, Tommy’s father gave him $20 thousand to study music at a university in Paris.

Tommy planned to be in France for two years. After a month’s lessons in Paris he took a holiday in Jerez de la Frontera, Spain to learn dressage at the Royal Andalusia School of Equestrian Art. Growing up in an expansive home in Aurora he was surrounded by horse riding and training estates. Tommy seemed natural in the stables. Short and stalky, with thick calves, he thumped around like an old Clydesdale work horse. His black hair was often messy but his thick black moustache was worn with pride as a symbol of his family heritage from South America and Spain before that. His jeans always seemed to have been made for someone at least two inches taller than he was, and a thick belt was worn to keep them from trailing on the ground. His favorite blue jean shirt was often dishevelled but always tucked into his pants. His easy-going demeanor helped Tommy meet people. He regularly played the piano at a local estate and groomed the horses in exchange for riding lessons. He liked the horses, but they became a way of connecting with estate owners and their wealthy daughters.

Walking through the wrought iron gates of the Royal Andalusia School toward the yellow limestone estate he decided he wanted much more in his life. It is here that he met Sofia. At five foot one and 110 pounds she made him feel tall at 5 foot 6. Her brown almond shaped eyes were full of possibilities and excitement he wanted to share. After a week of riding together she invited him back to her estate just outside Jerez. The two hundred acres of rolling countryside had a stunning view of the distant mountains glistening in the setting sun. The estate was built in the late 19th century. Tommy’s heart raced with excitement as he entered the home. To the left of the opulent centre hall was a large family room. Persian carpets defined the sitting area graced with leather winged back chairs. On the far wall was a large stone fireplace with a Joaquin Sorolla painting of a woman leading a horse through the shoreline centered above it. Beyond the family room was the dining room with a large rectangular oak table. On the right side of the hallway was a library with a black grand piano in the corner. Beyond the library was the kitchen.

Tommy pulled on pyjama bottoms and made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. Sofia gestured for him to sit down at the table. As he sat, he was dumbfounded that across from him was Sofia’s younger sister, Mariana, sitting topless waiting for her breakfast. Sofia, also topless, joined them with sunny side up eggs and bacon on a plate for Tommy. His eyes travelled from the eggs to the two topless girls sitting across from him and back down to the plate. He didn’t know where to look or what to say except thank you for the breakfast which seemed feeble after the sex last night. He simply smiled and enjoyed his meal. Sofia’s parents were at their estate in Cadiz, the commerce centre in southwest Spain just west of Jerez. They recently bought the riding estate and sent the girls to dressage lessons to compete in the regional sport of class and refinement. They had no idea the girls would bring home a middle class Canadian. Breakfast was to be the beginning of limitless joy until Philip the groomer walked in. Philip was overseeing the girls while the parents were away and embarrassed that he had missed the leach trying to worm his way into the heart of Sofia. He sent Tommy packing. Tommy returned to Paris, sitting in and playing a few songs at bars for some spending cash. He visited his grandfather’s burial site in the auspicious Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise. I come from someone special he thought to himself. I will be someone special. Tommy stretched a blank piece of paper over his grandfather’s tomb stone and rubbed the surface with a pencil, capturing the stone’s inscription. He neatly folded the paper and placed it inside his notebook. He kept it as a reminder that he wanted to achieve something in his lifetime. Within 4 months he ran out of money and returned to Canada. While he was away, his parents filed for a divorce and sold the family home. Tommy needed to find a place of his own.

At College, Tommy played the piano, and Alex, the tenor saxophone. They enjoyed the same music and played off of each other’s enthusiasm, becoming steadfast friends. Alex offered a room at his mother Victoria’s home. Alex was full of energy and enthusiasm. At 6 feet tall and 170 pounds he was slender but strong with a defined brown and golden beard and moustache and brown wavy hair. He was refined, confident and good looking and yet very down to earth.

Victoria’s home was a dove grey bungalow. Inside, the white walls of the elegant home were adorned with Victoria’s and her late husband’s art. Here Tommy had a bedroom, a grand piano to practice on, and a home and family to belong to. Alex and Tommy had many great years together, playing chess, cribbage, poker, and of course lots of music, with many jam sessions lasting through the nights. Victoria sat and watched the boys, thrilled that her home was filled with life and energy. Tommy had a fine home to live in while he got his own feet on the ground and was not in any hurry to do so.

Tommy started working at a music production company. Together with Jacob, Tommy wrote music for t.v. shows and movies. Jacob wrote most of the music while Tommy went to the “call to musicians” to find out what the clients were looking for. All of the job details were written in Tommy’s black Moleskine book. As a team they did well, and Tommy bought a small home.

In 2005 Victoria hosted a very successful art show. In less than two months later she suddenly passed away. After the funeral Alex and his wife hosted a large gathering in their home in her honor. Victoria’s best friend June was distraught at the loss of her best friend of over 70 years. Highly medicated she kept a quiet demeanour at the gathering and was driven home by her daughter. Tommy used the gathering to network amongst the guests. “Networking is the most important thing in life” was a chime he had used through the years and was brought to the foreground of my mind as I watched him introduce himself to the widows at the party. He drove Barbara, a widowed, long time friend of the family home at the end of the evening. On the way he asked questions about her art collection, specifically what artist’s works she collected and how many of each she owned. Were they originals or prints and can I come in to see them was enough for Barbara to calmly and determinedly say “no”. She had no more to do with him.

June, still on high doses of tranquilizers to cope with the loss of her best friend was called a week after the funeral. Tommy stopped in for tea and to see how she was doing. June let her guard down to the man that lived at her best friend’s home for six years. Being Alex’s best friend was all the credibility needed to welcome him in. June had retired from a fabulous career as the Executive Producer of the Federal Film Association for over 20 years with an executive pension for life. Her French designed Maison came with a view of Casa Loma. The castle set the tone and wealthy strata for development in its area. June’s home was filled with testimony to her position and influence throughout her life. She personally gave copies of her books to world leaders as an official representative of Canada. When she travelled, she stayed at the best hotels or in the official homes of the Presidents and Prime Ministers she visited. June used her brilliance and sexuality to take her career to unimagined possibilities as a diplomat. Her treasured collection was never hidden behind glass but enjoyed as simple objects in her home. June held the belief that she was the most important person in her home and fine china and silverware are to be used daily not just for company. June, a mother of 4 adults, was a widow. June turned to Alex for help both in repairing her home, and for strength. June was stressed with managing her career, her home and raising her family alone. She had been taken for money by more than one lover late in her career. June was not good at picking men to be involved with. Tommy started taking June to art openings and exhibits. Alex’s mother Victoria had given him an introduction and appreciation for art, and June was an avid collector.

Within two years Tommy and June were married and Tommy sold his house.

The wedding was held at Junes’ daughter Audreys’ home, a pristine white stone home in upper Forest Hill with ornate black wrought iron balconies against the large windows. A small gathering of about 26 people, family and friends filled the posh living room. Guests were chosen from the collection of supporters in his Moleskin notebook.

Tommy mingled, enlightening guests to his wife’s registered charitable organization. He had helped put her charity online, working with her for her cause, she saw him as a champion of her beliefs and to her. Together they helped bring in money from family friends and connections she had made over many years. The wedding was another opportunity to build support. The two spent a few days at her sprawling chalet overlooking Georgian Bay where he serenaded her on the piano, she had bought for him, before starting their life together at their maison near Casa Loma.