Rick Gagliano, as he's know to the world, is not exactly what one might expect in terms of a modern man's perspective. At home in his East Tennessee foothills enclave, Rick is a man who more or less keeps to himself, except when he's online, which happens to be most of the time.

His home is fairly modest, but sits on the side of a mountain overlooking one of the main tributaries of the Tennessee River. It's about as country as backwoods gets and Rick seems perfectly at home with wild turkeys, deer, and rabbits as he is with beautiful women, guitar pickers, or restaurateurs.

A man of diverse tastes, he was playing a recently-purchased vinyl Byrds Untitled album on a refurbished Magnavox stereo he claims was rescued from a nearby shack. Dressed in cargo shorts and a festive Hawaiian shirt, Rick welcomed us in and quickly got acquainted. Some of the furniture appeared to be lawn chairs and Rick escorted us out to the expansive deck overlooking a nicely manicured lawn, bushes and more trees than we've seen in a lifetime.

We settled into wrought iron chairs around the glass top table. Rick set out some beers and offered mixed drinks along with a plate of various cheeses, olives, Italian bread, summer sausage, pepperoncini, roasted red peppers, and brie. He promised to treat us later to some chicken cacciatore, the smell of which emanated from the kitchen as it baked.

Rick Gagliano was born in Rochester, NY, the middle child of Nick and Molly, who moved from the city out to the suburb of Irondequoit when Rick was five years old. A product of fairly normal upbringing, Rick's father, Nick, was a prominent local attorney who provided for the wife and kids from a private practice. Molly was a capable stay-at-home mom, who managed the affairs of the house, kept track of the kids, and did all the cleaning, cooking, a good share of the disciplining and lots of sideline teaching. Such was the norm back in the 1960s in the single-earner household.

Educated in Catholic schools, Rick got his first taste of journalism when he and some classmates published a somewhat underground publication called the "Different Drummer." Involved in every aspect of the publication, from buying the paper on which it was printed to lining up the printer, to writing and editing stories and doing layouts, Rick and his pals eventually got in trouble for what the strict Christian Brothers of Ireland deemed considered subversive literature and the fledgling enterprise was shut down by authorities after just two issues.

Little did 16-year-old Rick realize it at the time, but he would face in his publishing career the same kind of controversy and battle against censorship as experienced in high school.

The Singer position led to promotion, but eventually a distaste for the corporate world, as Rick claimed foul against upper management when he was deprived of a contest win by a cheating regional manager named Mr. Smeltzer, and subjected to the abuse of being moved from store to store after making his objections public.

Rick eventually quit the sewing business, moved back to Rochester, got into the real estate business for a year and eventually headed to the Big Apple, New York City, in 1977, where he learned the restaurant business as a bartender and waiter for a chain of eateries throughout Manhattan owned by National Restaurants.

Two years in the big city were enough for the young man and he headed back upstate to family and friends in Rochester, where he worked as a furniture stripper at his bother Nick's business, learned to make pizza, tended bar and took on a variety of short-lived jobs. Eventually, he borrowed some money from his father and opened a bookstore in the wrong part of town, and then entered the publishing business again, putting out a few issues of a tabloid called "Feature" until the business failed and Rick once again found himself unemployed.

It was in 1982 that destiny found its home. Working out of a small office in downtown Rochester, Rick began publishing a daily newsletter which he delivered for free to local merchants, making his way on dirt cheap advertising. After being threatened with a lawsuit by the Gannet company, owners of the morning "Democrat and Chronicle" and afternoon "Times Union" for calling his fledgling newsletter "What's Doing in Downtown Rochester", he changed the masthead to "Downtown, the Unbound Magazine", turned the 8 1/2 x 11single sheet into a weekly 12-to16 page tabloid, increased circulation from 1,000 to 5,000, and eventually to 16,000 as the enterprise grew by leaps and bounds. It was with what eventually became known as "Downtown Magazine" that Rick earned a reputation as an outspoken critic of government large and small, with a penchant for sensationalism, gimmicky, but always hard-nosed journalism with a smattering of features like Page 3 Girls, personal ads, unattributed odd quotes known as "Toast of the Town", sports coverage of local teams, and regular columns by lawyers, freelancers, and businesspeople.

In the Downtown Magazine years, Rick expanded to own his own print shop and web press in nearby Livonia, NY, publishing not just his own newspaper but the Livonia Gazette, Lima Recorder, Honeoye Falls Times and a few others, two of which he founded himself, the Genesseo Star and the Avon Comet. The whole business came crashing down after his journeyman press operator suffered a severe injury by getting a hand caught in the press, eventually resulting in the company's bankruptcy in 1987.

The years after that were something of a blur for Rick, defeated and depressed, he took jobs as a painter, carpenter helper, bartender and others, eventually moving to Maryland to escape the constant reminders of his failed success. There he tended bar at a country club and seafood place, worked in Baltimore's little Italy, but found his way back home to Rochester in 1999.