While waiters and customers were three and four deep ordering drinks, Harry slapped down a big roll of bills that turned out to be about $4,000 (about $12,000 in today’s money) and ordered a drink for himself and several others. He then disappeared into the crowded dining area. With one eye on the money, I made the drinks. Still not seeing him, I picked up the wad of bills (noticing $100s and $500s and even a couple of $1,000 bills) and took it over to the owner, whom everyone called “The Boss,” a misnomer, for you’d hardly find a milder, more considerate man anywhere.
I later overheard the three-way conversation between “The Boss,” his son Matt, the singing star of the show, and Harry. They were telling their old, but apparently somewhat drunk friend, “You know Harry someday someone’s going to rob you and leave you for dead in an alley.” Harry, the rough and tough, well-to-do owner of the local junkyard, wasn’t impressed. He finished his drink, said his goodbyes, pocketed the wad of money and went out into the cold Chicago winter night. Harry limped in about the same time the very next evening, sporting a large bandage around his head and a black eye. He slapped down an even larger wad of bills on the bar, ordered drinks and wandered off as he had done the previous night. A short time later, I again overheard the conversation with “The Boss” and Matt. “Harry, I told you.” As I again handed the wad to the boss, he continued to say, “Harry, when are you going to learn your lesson? Do you want to get mugged again? Next time it may not be just a bump on the head.” “Oh, Ok, Matt. I’ll take it over to the bank right away.” And he left.
When I got to work the next evening, I heard that the bank manager from across the street came into Math Igler’s for lunch. He told “The Boss” and Matt how that morning, among the night deposit box receipts, they found a big roll of bills. No deposit slip, no nothing, just the cash stuffed into the box. The funny part was, as soon as the manager saw the money he said to his assistant, “You know, I’ll bet that belongs to Harry Fink.” Ha-ha! Good ole Harry. Someday I’ll have to tell you about the time he planned on buying the decommissioned World War II destroyer, the USS Francis Scott Key and covered the entire bar with the blueprints of the ship. A junk man’s dream. Funny story. Funny guy. What a character. It was in this environment (kind of an Austrian / German Cheers), a Cheers with singer / waiters wearing lederhosen, that I met Matt Pimperl and his wonderful parents. We started a music business relationship and friendship that continues to this day. I was amazed to hear “Matty” sing back then and I still marvel at his rendition of a song I wrote that he and I produced – well, actually Jimmie Haskell (Grammys for Bridge Over Troubled Waters, Ode To Billy Joe, If You Leave Me Now), the famous arranger / producer we hired, produced it – Right From Wrong. If you don’t make mistakes, you’re not working on hard enough problems. And that’s a big mistake. F. Wilezek
Thanks to Matt’s parent’s generosity we were able to go to Hollywood and record the song that is a true story showing how powerful, passionate and how almost addictive (in other words “desperate”) early romantic, sexual love can be. Matt and his parents both loved the recording. I only wish “The Boss” and Loretta were still alive to see it finally make it onto an album, this album, and at last be available for the public to hear. Why isn’t Matt famous? Matt turned down a number of opportunities (Vegas and Europe) that ended his and my hopes of a big singing career, when his father got ill. Matt felt it was his responsibility, as the only child, to take over the running of Math Igler’s for his aging parents. I got to know his parents very well and frankly, they would have gladly given up Igler’s for Matt’s career; and Matt was willing to give up his career to help his parents make Igler’s a success. Their story can be compared to O’Henry’s short story, The Gift Of The Magi, where the young newly-wed woman in the story sells her long, lovely hair to buy an expensive watch fob for her husband’s handsome watch, while not knowing this at the same time the young, loving husband sells his watch to buy an expensive comb and brush set for his wife’s beautiful hair.
That’s why you’ve never heard of Matt Pimperl, unless you follow bowling, for Matt had dozens of perfect games. When inducting Matt into the Illinois Bowling Association Hall of Fame the president said “His (Matt’s) credentials are legendary.” Read more of Matt’s exploits at the Rx web site.
Jimmie Haskell fondly remembers working with Matt and when I told him about this album and that Matt would be on it he said:
Mike, I'm glad you're getting Matt another shot at fame. He deserves a good chance, and you do too.
Jimmie
It would be years before I would find another singer(s) I wanted to work with . . . but finally there was Hazel Payne who partnered with Janice Johnson as the group A Taste Of Honey – the song Boogie, Oogie, Oogie – became a number one, across-theboard hit and the first platinum single in Capitol Records’ history. They became the first black group to win the Grammy for Best New Artist of the Year. They were also the only group ever to have both their debut single and debut album certified platinum and to win the coveted Best New Artist award all in the same year.
Then, Joey Scarbury (Greatest American Hero – Believe It Or Not I’m Walking On Air – the song every one knows but few know its singer), then Teresa James (theme songs from Ellen and Day By Day) and then Jeannie Kendall (Heaven’s Just A Sin Away, first father-daughter duo to win a Grammy and a CMA). As you will find out I’m very picky about my singers. Matty, Joey, Teresa (whom if you don’t know I’m pleased to present to you) and Jeannie (whom you should already know) are all on this album.