He was a sprightly 90-year-old , hanging out at a Manalapan music store when I met him . Al retired from music in1978 , and he and wife Rose moved from Brooklyn to Howell , NJ . It was just minutes away from three music stores that would become Al ’ s haunts , as well as his support system after Rose ’ s death in 1996 . At Musicians Workshop , Freehold Music , and Ciazzo ’ s , Al would hang out , talking music with the staff , telling jokes , and filling up some lonely time . Sometimes he would jam with guitarists Tal Farlow , Bucky Pizzarelli and Vinnie Corrao , entertaining his fellow residents at The Villages club house . To be clear , the game we played on the phone wasn ’ t just Al ’ s way of checking the breadth of my repertoire . Nor was it just “ stump the singer .” I believe it was about an old and lonely artist having left behind him the kind of fulfilling music career from which artists don ’ t fully retire . I was happy to be a playful and appreciative ear he might have needed … heart and soul . Al would play an entire song into the phone , improvise a chorus , and only then would he ask me to name it ! Al was the age my musician dad would have been , and I knew a lot of old songs . When I visited him at home we would jam then talk music over coffee . In his nineties , Al still had perfect pitch and amazing facility on the fiddle . He showed me pictures from his career and told me stories , like when he was 1st violin chair in the Paul Whiteman Band in the late ‘ 20s . Bing Crosby was singing on stage . The band in the pit below . In a misstep , Bing fell off the stage and landed inside the grand piano . Family was as important to Al as music . He led a balanced life . No easy achievement for a pro-