Hello America

By Todor Traychev

WHY WE FAILED TO SHOOT THE $5 000 000 MOVIE
"Todor youre a monster!"
Two women in this world think Im a monster. Th e fi rst is my ex-wife Mariana and
the second is the Hollywood producer, Natalie Weiss, which raised $ 5 000000
to make a movie of my book, but for our family reasons could not shoot it. Th e
two women met, but none of them asked for my truth, none of them wanted to
know that sometimes after a breakup with the greatest love bad memories, ashes
and mud are the only tracks remaining.

So heres the story of the famous musical duo in Bulgaria with more than 2500
concerts at home and abroad, with tons of international awards, millions of fens and
much more money in the bank accounts

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483671598

Todor Traychev

On July 4, 1984, just three days after my escaped to the USA, I played music as part of the concert for 40,000 crowd in front of the Old State Theater in Hartford / CT /. Many interviews for newspapers and National Televisions followed announcing the decision of one of the most popular musicians and their 4 year old child Pantaley to leave Bulgaria in the name of freedom and better future. Our songs and clips in the country were banned by the communist government. In the USA I worked hard as a regional manager of Capital Credit Corporation and later as restaurant manager in “Alta Mira”, San Francisco. 1987 we became a United States citizen.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Todor Traychev.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 10/02/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

138886

Contents

Praise For Todor’s Book

Instead Of Preface / Letter From Jay R

1   Mariana

2   Kuba Ke Linda / Beautiful Cuba

3   Gentle Storm

4   One Love Story

5   Why Do I Love You

6   Let Them Be Famous…

7   Happy Birthday!

8   The Phone Is Ringing

9   Business Wedding Trip

10   Pantaley…

11   We Are Getting Tired?

12   Farewell Bulgaria

13   Hello, America

14   Crying Is Not Crime

15   Jay…

16   So What We Do Now?

17   Christmas Moods 1984

18   Driving Slow On The Highway

19   Lessons For The Youngster

20   Mistakes We Can’t Repair

21   My Dear Friend * Lee Housekeeper

22   Pantaley And His Friends

23   Just A Little More Music

24   Thanks, Amoco Mio

25   From The Everyday Life

26   Hotel Alta Mira

27   I Swear

28   The Change

29   On The Road Again

End Of This Book

Pictures With Fans And Important Personalities

Letter Of Acknowledgement To Alan Petzold

My Letter

Todor Traychev

Producer, Songwriter, Performer /And Us Jury Member/

image1.JPG

PRAISE FOR TODOR’S BOOK

Can you imagine how crazy demons are jumping on my golden records with hits from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. I still remember the Dimitrov’s Young Communist League decision in 1983 to ban the broadcasting and destroy all tapes of my family—the singing duet Mariana and Todor Traychev.

Just before the dramatic escape to the U.S. Dimitrov Young Communist League have chosen Todor as a Musician of the Year—1983. The state owned Music Company BALKANTON produced 120,000 copies of the album Drawings overflowing with exquisite lyrical sentiment and perfect music.

Now these songs are back again renewed and refreshed by fanciful technologies of modern times. I hope they get to you and you like them!

"Who else had courage and strength to live and then to sing like him? Music and lyrics mach his character—deep, soft, hard, humorous, ironic, memorable…

Only he rubbed shoulders with scraggy cowboys and their screaming vipers, he was the one to listen to their artistic outpourings in the dim corners of the light bars. Many years Todor shared the grief and joy with these folks in the early years of the escape. Probably this is why his books and songs make us feel different.

Good luck Todor with your new book and your music!"

Keith Hughes—Director of the American Cultural Center in Bulgaria

- Special Thanks to Gabby Labbad: International Bank for Investment and Development

- Special Thanks to Goodwill Suncoast Inc. -Your donations create jobs. Thanks for having me on board.

Instead Of Preface / Letter From Jay R

By Jay Roberts

. . . As I said the last two months had been full, and you can see they’ve been busy, but they’ve also been full in much deeper sense and now I want to tell you the story.

In Munich, on Friday, May 17, I was walking back to the hotel from dinner at one of my favorite Italian restaurants, when I passed by a small cabaret and coming from the tiny stage was as beautiful a rendition of Amazing Grace as I’ve ever heard. So I sat down at a table full of my Bavarian neighbors and listened to a young couple finish that song and sing a few more. Too soon their set was over, they left, and a much-less-gifted singer took their place.

I found out they would perform next week, so I took a good friend with me to hear them the next Friday night. This time we heard the whole set and we both loved them. I spoke to them on their way out, tolled them how much we loved their music and that I would be back. I was too busy on Saturday to get there early enough to hear them, but I and more friends were back on Sunday /Monday was a holiday in Munich as well as in the US.

As we listened to them, we could detect a slight accent, but couldn’t decide what it was. We invited them to share a beer after their set, and we found out they were Bulgarian. The young woman and man both played guitars and sang mostly American country music. They had a five-year-old son, it was the first time their government had allowed all three out of the country together, and they had decided to defect to the US, They had been in Munich for the last three months arranging their defection, this was their last night at the cabaret, and the next night was their last night in Munich. We talked about an hour, and they invited us to their going-away party at their hotel the next night.

We all went to that party on Monday night met some of their friends and their son, they sang and it was beautiful. We parted wishing them well and having exchanged addresses. They left for the US the next day to Hartford, Conn., where the government had assigned them . . .

. . . Recounting this, it amazes even me that I felt so close to those people in so short a time and after so few meetings—but I did, and I can’t tell you why. It was a combination of their obvious talent, the beauty of their music, their joyful and optimistic countenance, their giving natures /even in their circumstances/, and their courage and hopes for a new life. Somehow I was able to feel then what I know now. This was my introduction to the Traychev family—Todor, Tod, Mariana, and Pantaley Panch . . . .

. . . Before I left Munich, I wanted to know they were okay. I called my good friend Gerry Griffin, who works in New York City, and asked him to try to track them down through agencies in Hartford. So many coincidences . . . The first agency Gerry called, he told the women at the phone he said he had a strange story to tell her. He began the story of his friend in Munich who had met a bulgarian family immigrating to . . . . She interrupted him and said, "The family is the Traychevs and your friend is Jay Roberts? So they were there and save settled and remembered me. It was all I needed to know for then; we didn’t disturb them, but left word to contact us if they had any problems.

When I got to London, there was a letter waiting for me from Tody, written—June 4. I was exited to hear from them, but the letter was unsettling—they had realized quickly Hartford was not the entertainment capital of the country (Hartford is a lovely city but we think our music is the last thing it needs.)—and they wanted to move to California where they thought they would have a better chance of making a living the way they knew best. They asked if I could suggest any towns they might fit into, since they knew nothing about California. I could. I called California and made some arrangements, then, through Gerry I offered the family my apartment and car the old VW makes the offer a mixed blessing! Through August, if they wanted to go to San Francisco I got to Sausalito on the 11th and on the 13th I met Tody, Mariana and Pancho at the San Francisco airport. We squeezed the four of us and everything they own into a big rented car, and I took them to their new home. During the next two weeks, I spent some of the most beautiful times I’ve ever had . . .

. . . Tody and Mariana were the top singing duo in Bulgaria, a communist country of about eight million people located north of Grease and Turkey on the Black Sea (Sofia is the capital city). They and their music are loved by their people, and they’ve performed at more than 2 000 all over the world. They’ve made records I’m lucky enough to have one and performed frequently on the radio and television. Normally when they left the country their son was kept at home to ensure their return. The duo was extremely popular and wealthy by the Bulgarian standards and by ours, they had a home and cars, and their parents alive there—they couldn’t announce their plans so they just had to leave it all.

What kind of people are they, and why is it so easy to love them? Tody is 35, handsome talented, proud, with a ready winning grin. He sings, writes and arranges much of their music, plays guitar beautiful, and the harmonica along with it. On the last page of this letter is one of his most popular songs as loosely translated by a poet friend they met in Hartford. I’ve never read more beautiful lyrics, and you should hear them sing it.

Mariana is 25, beautiful, graceful, with as warm a natural smile, as you’ll ever see. She plays guitar also, and sings as beautiful as anyone you’ve ever heard. As the family got their first look at Sausalito, the sun was shining on the hills and the bay, the sailboats were all over the blue water, and Mariana’s reaction to her new home was, "Oh, Tody, you know how I feel—I want to sing!’’

Pancho is five. He has beautiful, wonderfully expressive face and a shock of hair that must be unique. As insight to the character installed by his parents, I give you this: In Germany Pancho fell in love with a song by Stevie Wonder. Then his father told him Stevie Wonder was blind, Pancho cried all night. The next morning he announced he wanted to meet and help Stevie—he wanted to be his eyes.

Living with them for the short time I was home was a rare, rare treat. I’ve never before seen love passed so freely and joyously between three people or from them to others, directly or through their music. Our life together settled quickly into a comfortable routine, even with the four of us in the small apartment.

The best times, the times I treasure most, were the nights we’d sit together after dinner and talk. Pancho hits the sack like an automatic rock at 8:30, and the three of us would sit at the table looking out over the lights of San Francisco. We learned a lot about each other and our countries—things we had in common and things we never knew. Tody was a swimmer and athlete and worked for nine years as a journalist for Bulgarian radio, where he learned excellent English. Mariana was a champion sharpshooter before she began singing /no wonder Tody is so nice to her.

Then, it was time to go. I left them waving good-bye, standing in front of their new home and it was memorable sight—I really hated to leave.

So, they are on their own now and will be at 115 Prospect as long as they want to be. They’re strong and proud and confident, and I’ve no doubts they’ll succeed and do well. But they need help and friends.

They don’t need money or rather they won’t accept money—I know/, but they need work.

Send them your best wishes and your prayers send them a card and welcome them and wish them well, and if you want to send more, send some large-demonstration postage so they can write their families back home. /and me! /. They will need explanations and help through strange new customs—insurances, driver’s licenses employment applications. Welcome them, and help them if you can.

I know this all sounds like a fairy tail, but it is not—it all happened, and, if anything, I haven’t done the experience or the people justice in my descriptions, much less embellishes them. Think of the Traychevs next time you think you have it rough or you have problems—put yourself in their shoes for a minute—imagine leaving everything and everyone you’ve ever known to go to a strange country and start life over again, strangers, almost from scratch. Then think, as I do every single day, how very, very lucky we are.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my story. I’ll keep you posted on the Traychevs and me and what happens next. I hope, as always, this finds you healthy and happy and enjoying life. Please, after you’ve written Tody and Mariana and Pancho, write to me here and send pictures whenever you can. I miss you and love you and think about you often—take care . . .

Jay Roberts,

Production Accountant

20 Century Fox Film Corporation

1

Mariana

Believe it or not I had no problem with the wild parties. No problem with the endless discussions of boring subject at the bars in our neighborhood. I did not even care about the late night frantic lectures of self-proclaimed top level journalists or self-made politicians. Building up new strategies about world order, talent recognition or the future of state matters was a day to day routine at places where I used to spend my spare time. One had to create a strong system of personal defense in order to avoid repeating versions of pure banality. Automatic selection for the best and the most valid information was a good way to start with. I was sick and tired of listening to phrases like ‘Who is going to pay?’ ‘This song looks like someone else’s’ or ‘If I was there, it should’ve been different’. And still it was not a big problem.

No problem with anonymous one-night love affairs or heartbreaking stories of the girl just next to me. We did have fun. Didn’t we? So what?

Not that you can call me Mr. No Problem, but I though I was a bit different. I was the world’s best listener and a living statue of patience. Most of all I was known as a man with exceptional ability not to get tired of people. Never in my life!

I guess this was because of my internal desire to communicate any time, any place. I was able to spend hours and hours with all kinds of storytellers and to listen to everything they have to say.

Later in my life, in some way or another, this happen to be an important advantage in my career and the show I was already planning to build up sometime in the future. Not now! In the future when the music was going to take over my life and to play with me as little kids plays with a big balloon at edge of windy seashore. Meeting thousands of people, speaking to them, making them laugh and cry was my own way to learn how to provoke human emotions. Working with all kinds of feelings was soon to be part of my life. Music was inside me, outside me… All over me… Stirring people’s minds and souls, creating artistic analogues from their personal life-stories and putting them in to a song is unique power. You can not just learn how to attract people. You can not find it in the books. One has to discover the power of the artistic communication and to make two important decisions. Is it going impress the people and am I going to be happy because of this? Music came too late in my life. I never had interest in it and no family member had ever played any instrument or sang a song except for a very special alcohol inspired situations. I was in my early twenties when my muse knocked on the door as a surprise to me and also, against my parent’s expectations.

I could’ve gone without it, but it happened. And I never regret it. The mystery of it put me into unbelievable situations and brought me to the best selection of long desired and lasting human relationships. Writing and singing songs turned my live into a fairy tale. Once I was involved with it, there was no hesitation; there were no considerations or calculations. It was beautiful, inspiring. It was living fantasy. Life became meaningful just before my fatal conclusion that later on it was going to be a total mass.

I knew it was going to take some time, but I believed in my new ambition and I was ready to give it a try. I was ready to go with it because there was nothing else in the world that can make me work and be happy in one and the same time.

As the only child of working class family I was not promised a red carped leading to the wonderful life for many years to come. I was supposed to fight alone and make my way as ordinary member of communist society. It was my dad’s decision to send me to technical school. It took him four years to understand that his son had no talent for automobiles and will never build them for the rest of his life. Thanks God I was good in swimming and I played water polo for the national team of Bulgaria. Otherwise my teachers would never let me pass so easily the final exams and the state diploma would have been just another mirage. The lack of positive emotions at my graduation day came to whisper at my dad’s ear that his son soon was going to take live in his own hands and from this moment on every step he makes in the future was going to be his personal responsibility.

Yes. It was my personal responsibility to go to the army, trying to become a better man. Later it was also my personal decision to go to university for my English philology master degree. My parent’s socialist dreams finally came true. A member of the family was a university graduate. Well, under these circumstances it looked like everybody was satisfied. Heavy burden was taken of my parents shoulders. The big concerns about my future were well behind. I finished my studies and I got my first job as a promising young journalist in the Bulgarian National Radio. OK, now Mom and Dad could see friends and relatives, smile and talk to them with the illusion that they had given something very special to the word.

I am just at the beginning my story and it looks