Biography

Cazzey Louis Cereghino was born a rich wealthy landowner with no sense of humor in Northern Italy in the mid-1840's. Somehow today his statistics portray him as being born in Milwaukie, Oregon, thousands of miles away, nearly a century and a half later.

His gentlemanly duties included sipping tea with locals and galloping lessons with the young ladies of the area. Yet again, the records on paper have overshadowed these legends, pointing to his upbringing playing baseball, selling his family's farm vegetables out of a wagon, and involving himself in much mischief--including Nerf Wars.

According to record, he has many proud accomplishments. The once commissioner of a city-wide Wiffleball league, this man set his sights on stardom early on and set out to become a well known songwriter. Then he discovered he could sing, tell stories, write poetry, do carpentry and fix broken machinery. So he moved to where the music and songwriting were--Nashville, Tennessee.

Cazzey spent his early years in the entertainment world playing his music to a lack of adoring fans across the map. Traveling and living out of his Jeep Cherokee, he globe-trotted forty-nine of the fifty states and even as a minstrel in Europe, crooning his ballads of life. On the downside, he often begrudgingly worked as a fitness model or spokesperson for various outlets and as a maintenance man--the bills had to be paid.

When the lack of opening doors began hurting his face as they slammed, he decided Nashville didn't have as many opportunities as the great Hell-A, also known as the City of Angeles in Southern California. So he set off on another cross country move, stopping back at home to trade vehicles for a burnished almost new 1977 motorhome.

Once in Smell-A, Cazzey immediately began singing around town. Speaking his mind about the entertainment industry, he found more than enough writing material. The offers began rolling in--only not for music.

The world of Hollywood was encompassing him. Modeling jobs and movie and television sets became like second homes to him as he took on the role of apprentice to a casting agent. Here he was introduced to some of the worst screenplays ever scribed. Always a storyteller in his mind, Mr. Cereghino decided that not only could he play the characters that he saw on paper, but write them as a screenwriter (a.k.a. homeless artist). No stranger to starting anew, the man began sprouting out screenplays like hairs growing on an Italian man's back. In tribute to his native Italians, by the end of six months Cazzey had nine full-length motion picture screenplays. Now he was ready to pitch himself to Hollywood. This supercilious chap had become a full package singer-songwriter-balladeer-model-actor-screenwriter. Or was he?

No. He was not. He still had to jump through a few more hoops. Not only did he have to commence shaving his face when roles asked it of him, but he decided that once he got a screenplay to the right people, he would then put more meat on the story while he waited for the offers to pour in. Six months and one beard down to the middle of his chest later, Cazzey Louis Cereghino was a novelist. The extra meat turned into six-hundred pages of story. Just another title added to the already too-long, worthless, overly drawn-out, silly description of what he does for a living.

All in all, Mr. Cereghino, the man from a vegetable farm in Oregon, leads a simple life. He jumps out of airplanes, swims in the Arctic Ocean where polar bears roam, plays Wiffleball, lifts weights six time per week, runs marathons while playing the guitar, builds quadruple bunkbeds, plays sixteen different instruments, takes Italian classes, speaks in American Sign Language and Spanish, surfs (and crashes), travels the world, leg presses 1600 lbs. and benches 431, cooks and bakes specialty items, plays padless tackle football, attacks armed robbers at the grocery store and car thieves on the street, studies natural science by growing jungles in his abode, believes he can still run the mile in under five minutes, and embellishes most everything just a little bit.