Monday, April 7, 1997 | 11:59 a.m.
Gordon Jaffe is easy to overlook against the memorabilia-cluttered walls of Battista's Hole in the Wall restaraunt. Waiting for an audience to slide into one of the red vinyl booths, he stands next to a life-size cutout of John Wayne. He's belt-high to The Duke.
But when the sixty-something entertainer straps his gleaming, black Continental accordion to his 4-foot-11 frame and begins to play, he is hard to miss.
For 16 years, Jaffe has shuffled through the eight rooms of the Italian eatery, shoes squeaking as he goes, looking for a receptive patron or, better yet, a roomful of them.
"He's been here so long, he's like one of the fish I hung on the walls," the owner, Battista Locatelli, says affectionately.
His high-energy performances have won him admirers from all over the country. Mike North of Chicago's SCORE radio recently had Jaffe play over the phone after seeing him while in Las Vegas.
Jaffe exhorts participation from his small audiences. His jaw juts forward as he dives into the bass. Biting his lip, he swings and pirouettes. "It's dance music!" he hollers at a couple of construction workers.
"When people are nice, I respond. I get the bellows shakin'." Jaffe's eyes sparkle, a smile creases his time-worn features and his arms twitch rapidly as he demonstrates the tremolo technique. "And then I give 'em the bass.
"If it's a really good group I give 'em the real accordion numbers," he says, "'Twelfth Street Rag,' 'Lady of Spain,' 'Tiger Rag' ... 'Tico Tico' -- that is a tricky one."
Jaffe's repertoire is tailored to garner a hometown whoop from just about anywhere. He asks a woman from Boston about Joe Teschi's restaraunt on Hanover Street, a place he says he's never been. Then, he wins over a couple from Ann Arbor, Mich., with a "perfect" rendition of "Victor Valiant," the University of Michigan fight song.
"I've become a real geographer," he says with a wink.
A physically fit one, too.
"The accordion weighs 22 pounds at the beginning of the night," he says, "and 122 at the end."
His secret: "I work out in the mornings."
Gordon's long run at Battista's has solidified him as a must-see for many tourists.
"Every day, somebody calls to see if he's still here," says Battista. "A lot of people think he's the owner. A magazine from back east wrote about little Battista, who people call Gordy for short."
Kim, a Battista's waitress for 12 years, says, "People worry if he's not here, they ask if he's sick or if we fired him."
The musical bug bit a 7-year-old Gordon in his hometown of Buffalo one day when his father took him shopping for a xylophone, a popular instrument for young musicians at the time.
The store was out of xylophones, but the salesman pulled out a 12 bass accordion instead, and Gordon spent the next 13 years taking lessons.
As a teenager, he began playing for weddings and other events. "I've always had a kind of magic. Even in high school the audiences loved it."
Jaffe hit the pinnacle of his career at 18, in the early '50s, when he won the nationally broadcast "Horace Hite Talent Show" with "Lady of Spain."
"After that, I knew music was for me," he says.
He played a Buffalo hot spot called the Town Casino, backing up headliners like Wayne Newton, Jerry Vale and the Smothers Brothers. He also gave music lessons.
In the '70s, the accordion began to fall from favor in popular music. "I blame the Beatles," he says. "When they emerged, everyone wanted to play guitar. Accordion lessons just stopped."
With no prospects lined up, Gordon hauled his wife and two children to Las Vegas in 1978, fleeing the gruesome Buffalo winters. He landed a job at a now-defunct restaurant on Tropicana and Pecos and stayed until 1981, when he got his "big break" at Battista's.
"The first night was like a movie script," he remembers. "The whole place was singing along and having a great time."
After the first week, Battista asked Jaffe to double his appearances. Except for a three-month break in 1985 to tour with the Three Suns, who made the song "Twilight Time" famous, he's been doing six nights a week ever since.
Among the more than 500,000 diners he has serenaded is a long list of celebrities, many of whose photos crowd the restaraunt walls.
Liza Minnelli, Jack Palance, Debbie Reynolds, Clint Eastwood and Mickey Rooney have all absorbed the Jaffe magic. The Oak Ridge Boys were so taken with him that they returned so he could play a wedding reception for them.
"Every night is an adventure here, especially when a big star comes in. It really pumps me up," he says, clenching his fists and grinning ear to ear at the thought of the challenge.
Another challenge Jaffe likes is the hard-to-get group. "I like to play for people to win them over," he says.
A group of high-fashion types from Chicago feigns intense interest in plates of ravioli and manicotti, trying not to make eye contact as he approaches.
"Hi there," he says. "Where ya from?"
He begins a tune but gets little reaction. He resorts to low-ball humor. "Go Bulls! Kick 'em, Dennis!"
Smiles all around. Triumphant, but not foolish enough to push his luck, he retreats to the next room.
Jaffe has no plans to hang up the squeeze box. "Music is in my blood, it's my life," he says. "If I retired I'd die."
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