Friday, July 21, 2006 | 7:46 a.m.
Las Vegas, self-proclaimed "Entertainment Capital of the World," draws them like a magnet, these wannabe headliners in search of a marquee.
"My window of opportunity is now - if I don't do it now, I will never do it," says John Garafalo, an aspiring singer who left his union electrician's gig in upstate New York to pursue his Vegas dreams.
Each month, the valley draws 6,000 or 7,000 new residents. There's no telling how many come seeking fame and fortune, or at least a job that will provide them with a living.
Hundreds of them knock monthly on Jaki Baskow's door. She's head of one of the busiest talent agencies in Las Vegas. "One day, I had 26 people come through my office in two hours looking for work."
They hear about the hundred or so shows on - and off - the Strip and about the countless bars and lounges, and they think there must be a place for them. But Las Vegas is a tough town - even for the most talented.
"There are only 300 or 400 musicians employed in this town," says Frank Leone, president of Musicians Union Local No. 369. "And I don't mean they work every night."
Only half those jobs are union. The rest are filled by people who work for whatever the venue pays. Sometimes it's $100 a night. Sometimes, gas money. Sometimes they just play for applause.
"A lot of kids will play at bars on weekends for nothing, just because they love music," Leone says.
If the newcomers expect to be paid, they have to compete with hundreds of entertainers who have been here for years. And if they think the Strip is the road to stardom, think again because it may detour through disillusionment.
"With the notable exception of Wayne Newton, this town does not create stars," Leone says. "We get the stars once they have been created. The hotels have big bucks to pay the Barry Manilows, but as far as anyone starting out performing here and achieving that level of stardom, forget it."
Out of every 100 performers who come to her agency, Baskow says, 10 might be placed in jobs.
"Someone once said to me, 'You have boxes of people's hopes and dreams stacked in your office.' "
Boxes waiting to be opened.
The Blues Singer
Alan Broze arrived in Las Vegas in 1990, and the 60-year-old ex-Marine is still looking for his first paying gig.
"I'm just about to give up," he says.
Broze began singing at bars and USO clubs in the 1960s. He was discharged in 1967 after a tour of duty in Vietnam. He formed a band and performed in clubs in and around his hometown of - yes - Cleveland.
"We played six nights a week, five hours a night. Every lounge had a band back in the '60s and '70s. Everyone was working," Broze says.
Family responsibilities forced him out of entertainment and into construction. But the urge to perform took control of his life, and he moved to Las Vegas, where he knew a few entertainers.
Although he has an excellent voice, well suited for the blues he prefers, Broze couldn't find work. He started driving a cab, performing for free at open mike nights around town when he wasn't on duty.
A couple of months ago he gave up the cab and took a job as marketing director for Eyes of Silver, a jewelry company owned by fellow musician Bill McClirk. Together they continue to pursue music while keeping their day jobs.
Broze has been rejected countless times, but he continues to knock on doors, though not with the same enthusiasm he once had.
"I don't want to give up," Broze says. "I always want to perform. But I don't know. Maybe it's my age. I just turned 60, but I'm a young 60.
"I can get up and sing for free anytime I want, but I'm tired of singing for free."
The Piano Man
Michael Cavanaugh's story is the kind that keeps hope alive for all those aspiring performers who come here with stars in their eyes.
Born and raised in Cleveland, he began playing piano at the age of 7 and formed his first band at 10. He performed in hometown nightclubs throughout his teens and landed at a piano bar in Orlando, Fla.
After moving here in 1999, he found a steady gig as the piano player at the Bar at Times Square in New York-York. It was a lucky break, but not the big dream.
Then, Billy Joel walked into the casino bar. Cavanaugh was on the piano when the man who wrote "Piano Man" jumped onstage and joined him for a couple of songs . The chance encounter landed Cavanaugh the lead role - the piano player - in "Movin' Out," the Tony Award-winning musical featuring Joel's songs and Twyla Tharp's choreography.
The production opened at Broadway's Richard Rodgers Theater on Oct. 24, 2002. It played 1,307 performances before closing in December 2005.
"Movin' Out" is now touring the country, but without Cavanaugh.
The 34-year-old entertainer decided to return to Las Vegas to resume his career.
"I could have moved anywhere," he says. "But I love it here, and this is the place where I know I can be successful."
He's creating a variety show he feels confident will find a home here. Until then, he's doing a lot of corporate entertaining. Besides paying tribute to Joel, he sings songs by Elton John, Jerry Lee Lewis and others, and plays other instruments.
"Vegas has a ton of opportunity," he says. "What you have to do is set yourself apart from what others are doing - you have to find your niche, come up with a reason people want to come to see you."
The Crooner
Larry Liso is an old-fashioned saloon singer, the kind once common in Las Vegas but now becoming as rare as a cheap buffet.
He gave up his career as a plumbing contractor in Long Island, N.Y., to pursue his lifelong dream of being a singer, arriving in Las Vegas in January 2004.
"So far, I'm very happy with the decision," says the 47-year-old, who sings the songs of Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett and others.
Liso is one of the lucky ones.
He found work almost immediately, singing at a string of restaurants - Casa di Amore, Capazzoli's and Prima Pasta.
"Playing for gas money," Liso says. "But you do what you have to do."
Eventually, he found an agent, Nicholas Daginis of Red Events, who booked him on weekends at the Westin lounge. Liso also joined the three-member cast of "Shades of Sinatra," a tribute show.
At 13, Liso was performing in a band with his sister and a cousin in Long Island. He attended the Berklee College of Music in Boston, but dropped out. "School wasn't for me," he says. He returned to Long Island, singing and playing trumpet with bands in small clubs at night and working days as a plumber.
When his children grew up and left home, it was time to pursue his dream of entertaining in Las Vegas.
"I had no plan," Liso says. "I was just going to wing it and see what happened."
He has found enough work to support himself, and hasn't had to work a day job in almost two years. But he dreams of working on the Strip. Until then, he's content working in lounges on the fringes and in the studio working on original music.
"I'm trying to climb up the ladder," he says.
"This town doesn't move as fast as everyone thinks."
The Comic
Stand-up comic James "Mr. Bigfoot" Scott arrived five summers ago, but he keeps his bags packed.
He has had some local gigs, playing at recently demolished Bourbon Street and opening for comedian Vinnie Favorito at O'Shea's. But Scott spends most of his time on the road. In recent months, he's performed in Jackson, Mich.; Rome, Ga.; Findlay, Ohio; and Crescent City, Calif.
"I love the road, but I would like Vegas to be my home base," says the Cleveland native. "I just want it all."
Scott played basketball at Grambling State University in Louisiana, where he majored in hotel management, and transferred to Xavier University in Cincinnati, where he majored in business management.
After graduation, he flirted with professional basketball, playing in a summer league in Los Angeles.
"After that experience I made a big decision: I decided to go back to Cleveland and attend the police academy," Scott says.
He discovered his comedic calling while working as an usher and security guard at a comedy club there in 1997. It has been his passion since.
He has crisscrossed the country knocking on doors. He spent many nights on the road sleeping in his car, but now he has a network of friends around the country who often help him out when he's traveling. For the past five years, he says, he has managed to make a living in comedy.
"These last five years, the hard work has been paying off," Scott says. He gets lots of gigs on the East Coast and just finished a 13-city tour. He recently performed at the CasaBlanca in Mesquite. But he still hasn't found permanent work in Las Vegas.
"It's tough to crack this city," he says. "After all these years of being here, I'm just now starting to get my foot in the door. It's all about the networking. Just getting my name out there, meeting people. It's hard work."
His dream: To host a late-night TV talk show from the Strip. "Not too many African-Americans have their own talk show," Scott says.
He advises those who want to make it in Las Vegas to first go to Los Angeles or New York.
"Get some stage time," he says. "Go to open mike nights. Practice your craft. If they don't have the skill, there's no place for them in Vegas. There aren't a lot of venues in Vegas for those just starting out.
"The casinos are no place for beginners."
The Harpist
Wendy Blanc is looking to pull a few strings in Vegas.
A harpist, Blanc says she supported herself quite nicely in New York with gigs at restaurants, nightclubs, hotels and private parties, including performing for Frank Sinatra, Bob Hope and Donald Trump.
"I was constantly busy in New York, working six days a week in hotels," Blanc says.
But she wanted a change and came to Las Vegas in December.
"Because it's the entertainment capital of the world," she says.
And there isn't much competition. No one else is making a living strictly playing the harp on the Strip. The New York native, who politely declines to discuss her age, says she has earned a living as a solo harpist since the age of 16.
"I come from a musical family," Blanc says. "I have actually performed since I was 6, with my brothers and sisters. We played in all the hotels in upstate New York."
She played piano, accordion, violin and clarinet, but she turned to the harp when she went solo. "I had the urge to play something different," Blanc says. "I enjoy sitting behind my instrument expressing myself."
She won't play with an orchestra. "Out of two hours, the harp plays maybe 10 minutes," she says. But she sometimes uses a trio of backup musicians. She performs all kinds of music on her harp, including Top 40 and standards. She also sings.
She has had a few gigs in the six months that she has been here - mostly private parties and weddings. She tirelessly makes the rounds, knocking on doors, leaving her name with agents and entertainment directors, anyone who may have need for a harpist.
She knows that a lot of entertainers in Las Vegas are out of work, but isn't discouraged.
"I have a specialty, so I'm thinking positive," she says. "You have to be realistic. I just want to work and make a nice living. I'm not going to be a Madonna here."
The Singer
John Garafalo packed up his electrician's tape in February and moved to Las Vegas to pursue his musical dream.
"I figure I've been an electrician for 20 years," says the 43-year-old singer. "As you get older, it gets tougher each day to get out there and do the physical thing."
He has performed since grade school, studied opera and even made the occasional appearance in Europe.
But Garafalo always has fit his artistic dreams around his trade.
"I come from a blue-collar family," he says. "Music was never an option for my primary living."
Even after his move to Las Vegas, he isn't relying on being discovered right away. He has signed up with the local electricians union.
"I don't think I'd ever give up the union - I have health care, benefits and retirement," Garafalo says, "unless I make real good money entertaining."
He has been making the rounds, performing for free at open mike nights at places like the Italian American Club and at Kelly Clinton's Celebrity Karaoke at the Bootlegger. He fashions himself after Andrea Bocelli and Josh Grobin, singers who mix classical and pop repertoires.
Garafalo says he needs to earn at least as much as he makes as an electrician - about $30 an hour - to give up his day job. "If I could make something comparable, I would be happy," he says. Plus he would be doing something he loves.
"I give myself a minimum of two years here, and then I'll see where I am," Garafalo says. "At least I'll know by then which direction I'm going, see what could be in the making."
He doesn't see himself as a lounge performer or as a singer on the gondolas at the Venetian.
"I'd like to do upscale singing. I'd like to do some Broadway," he says.
"I never really thought about being a headliner. My goal at this stage is maybe being an opening act for a headliner. That would be fine with me. Then I would have achieved what I came out here to achieve."
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