Charlie Banacos

Yesterday, I was saddened by the news of Charlie Banacos' passing on December 8. I studied with Charlie in the nineties for three or four years; first, in his studio on Abbot St. in Beverly, MA, and then, after moving to New York City, by correspondence. Charlie was one of the most inspiring mentors I've had in my life. His wealth of knowledge, his positive energy, and his humbleness were some of the traits that made him a truly exceptional teacher. Those who wanted to study with him had to sign up on a waiting list that could last from two to five years.

I guess I was lucky because I only waited about one and a half years before getting Charlie's call. Since then, I assiduously studied with him regardless of the fact that, in the beginning, I was a full time college student pursuing a dual major in Composition and Performance. The last summer break before graduating, I had the chance to stay in NYC for a couple of months and even then, I commuted eight hours roundtrip so that I could get my weekly half hour lesson with him. That's the type of mentor Charlie was. Wether you were Mike Stern, Jimmy Earl, or a college senior like myself, it made no difference to him, and he treated you as if you were his best and favorite student.

Charlie was also a treasure trove of stories and anecdotes, both about famous jazz musicians, other students, and teachers around the Boston and New York area. Every time I saw him, he always had some funny or interesting story. For example, one day he told me this story about Miles Davis calling this sax player he knew, because he was looking to start a new band after his hiatus in the late 70s. The sax player, incredulous that Miles Davis would be calling him, hang up on Miles thinking he was some kind of prankster. After a couple of tries Miles miles gave up and that was that. Today, many years after studying with Charlie, I still find myself relaying some of his stories to my own students.

These are some of the reasons why I am so grateful for the years I spent studying with Charlie, and also why his passing is a great loss for the jazz community at large. He was such a dedicated and indefatigable educator that sometimes I wondered if he was burning his candle from both ends. Once, I remember him telling me about how he would wake up every morning at 4 am and write music until 9 am, the time when his first student of the day would show up; from then on, he would teach for the rest of the day, sometimes until 9 or 10 in the evening only to repeat the same routine the following day. When I asked him how many hours of sleep he got on average, he'd say four, five hours at the most. Needless to say, I was amazed by the fact that someone who worked so hard and slept so little could always be so upbeat and energetic every single time I saw him, or every time I heard his voice on the cassette tape we used to exchange once I switched to snail mail lessons.

This positive, upbeat, and restless personality was probably one of the reasons why Charlie's students, including myself, were so fond of him. People would literally travel hours, and sometimes days, in order to study with him, wether it was by car, by train, or by airplane. Not for nothing, Charlie was already a legendary figure within jazz circles during his lifetime, and most of today's up and coming jazz musicians have either studies with him, or with one of his students. Simply because of the sheer number of people that have studied with him over the decades, his legacy is poised to grow exponentially in the years to come. I believe that some day, not so distant into the future, people will remember Charlie Banacos as the man who single handedly revolutionized jazz pedagogy in the 20th century.


Rest in peace, my friend and mentor.

Save the Puffers

The puffer fish, in all its varieties, is one of my favorites. The porcupinefish is one such variety and it is very common in the Caribbean. No matter how many times I come across one, I can't help pausing and look for as long as it will let me before swimming out of sight. Turtles and eagle rays also have the same effect on me. Maybe it's because of the puffer's wide eyes which we, as humans, are genetically programmed to associate with infants in order to trigger our nurturing instinct. Or maybe it's because they seem so gentle and cute with their ET-like face.

One of the peculiarities of the puffer fish is its natural defense mechanism. Its body, is covered with spines, and whenever it feels threatened, the fish will suck in sea water and fill itself up until it turns into a balloon. As it does this, its spines become erect because of the body's surface tension and so, once puffed up, the fish will resemble one of those medieval spiked iron balls which would look pretty menacing to anyone who has ever seen one. Granted that the puffer fish is not made of iron and thus it wouldn't hurt anyone (with the exception of those puffers that have venomous spines), but its predators don't know that, and fish in general are not known for their intellectual acumen.

We humans, who possess such intellectual acumen, have figured out that the puffer is not really as menacing as it looks when puffed up. This is unfortunate from the puffer's perspective because some uneducated divers, and some uneducated snorkelers and aquarium owners alike, will simply try to trigger such a defense mechanism for their own amusement. Aside from the cruelty of a behavior that is tantamount to torture - just imagine a Kong like creature scaring you to death for its own amusement - the puffer's defense mechanism is not without drawbacks.

The main drawback is the fact that the puffer fish can only puff itself up so many times before it exhausts itself and dies. That's right, just think of a bee's stinger. The bee's stinger is a defense of last resort and the bee will sting if, and only if, it feels it has no other option. This is because the bee is aware, somehow, that when it does utilize its ultimate weapon, it will die as well. Sort of like: "I know I will die, but I will hurt you as much as I possibly can before I do."


Even though the puffer's defense mechanism does not have the same one-time-only finality of the bee's stinger, it still is the weapon of last resort in the puffer's arsenal, and because of the risks involved, this mechanism is reserved only for staving off an imminent threat. Like all animals when they sense danger, the puffer fish will first try to swim away first and will only resort to puffing up if and when it feels it has no other way out.

All in all, the puffer's puff is like the emergency brake on a subway car, or on a train, with its big red handle and its big red sign saying "Emergency!" Nobody in their right mind would pull that handle unless it was a real emergency - even though I am sure everyone has had the temptation of pulling it just to see what would happen. But aside from the few obsessive compulsive people or the remainder reckless ones, most people will not pull on the lever because of the predictable negative consequences - some people will get hurt, and the perpetrator will receive a substantial fine.

So the question is: why is that people who are smart enough not to pull on the emergency brake in a subway car just for kicks, will carelessly trigger the puffer's defense mechanism given that this could cause the fish's death? I have already hinted on the most likely answer to this question earlier in the blog, which is that I believe that people are simply unaware of the potentially deadly consequences of forcing a puffer fish to puff up too many times. So, it's not so much that people are mean but, simply, that they are ignorant; and this goes to show that ignorance, sometimes, makes people do some pretty mean things. I am sure that if anyone knew the unintended consequences of molesting a puffer fish, people would not do it.

For this reason, and per suggestion of my always inventive friend Laura, I have decided to start raising people's awareness on this issue. This blog, in its own little way, is the first step in what will hopefully evolve into a Don't Scare the Puffers campaign (the name is still a work in progress; feel free to make suggestions). Hopefully, with a little more awareness, people will refrain from molesting such a beautiful creature and will do what every properly trained diver is supposed to do: look but don't touch.

New Diving Friends

A couple of videos I made with footage taken while diving with people I met in Bonaire this past October.