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?