FIORE unites men with strong sense of fun

The January meeting of FIORE is called to order.

Although, frankly, "order" would be pushing it. Sure, Nelson Sardelli attempts mightily to get everybody's attention, but the 45 or so men gathered in a banquet room of Bugsy's Speakeasy are trying just as mightily to ignore him.

Eventually, the audience quiets down enough to begin the meeting, although, again, calling it a "meeting" would be doing the word an injustice.

For the next hour or two -- turns out it's just as hard to end a meeting when people treat concluding remarks like open mic night -- these brothers in bonhomie dine, catch up with each other's lives and utter more groaner-quality jokes than were loosed during the borscht belt's heyday.

Here's the most important thing to know about FIORE: It is, Sardelli explains, "the Seinfeld of clubs, because we are about nothing, and the Switzerland of clubs, because we don't get involved."

If you don't believe him, believe the name, which is an acronym for "fun Italians organizing ridiculous events."

FIORE was hatched -- again, "created" would be overstating it -- about 5½ years ago, mostly as an excuse for its members to gather once a month for food, fun and casual fellowship.

Sardelli, a veteran entertainer in both Las Vegas and Atlantic City, has belonged to clubs that actually strived to do things. But, after quitting one that became a bit too organized for his tastes, Sardelli lunched with a few friends and decided to start, as FIORE's Web page puts it, a "non-club club" that would have no purpose and be totally apolitical.

"And not only this, we're open to everybody. We go from doctors to politicians to entrepreneurs to a couple of pimps," Sardelli adds with a laugh, making it hard to tell if he's serious.

Thanks to Sardelli's career and lifelong friendships, FIORE's membership includes plenty of entertainers. Photographer Charles "Chick" Hughes says the cast of fellow diners at FIORE lunches has included Frankie Avalon, Rich Little and Pat Cooper. But Sardelli says that list also includes nonmembers who are, for instance, artists, ex-CIA employees, ex-cops and military people.

Oh, yeah: Technically, FIORE has no members. Rather, and as is denoted on their name tags, everybody in the non-club club bears the title of "president."

Membership qualifications are determinedly nonstringent. Basically, two members must vouch for a candidate and, if FIORE's other presidents are cool with it, he's in.

"What we don't want are constipated people, and we don't want people with anger," Sardelli explains.

Since the club began, "we've only kicked out one guy," he adds. "Well, we kicked out two, but one came back."

What does it take to get kicked out of FIORE? "If you're an asshole," Sardelli answers, probably seriously.

While FIORE presidencies are open only to men, wives and girlfriends are invited to attend four coed functions a year, including a Valentine's Day dance. Meanwhile, the womenfolk are working on starting an auxiliary, the "FIOREttes," which Sardelli says he's OK with as long as they hew to the same strict standards of nonaccomplishment as the men.

Why join? In a few cases, presidents' responses begin with an unspoken but implied, "Duh."

Don Gloudé is too much of a gentleman for that. But Gloudé, a veteran entertainer and former restaurateur who currently tours with The Platters Featuring the Legendary Monroe Powell, says he has known Sardelli for years.

When asked to join, Gloudé continues, "I said: 'What am I joining? Nothing?' "

Gloudé laughs. "He's very honest about that. It's absolutely nothing."

Actually, it's not always nothing. At each meeting, Sardelli auctions off items donated by members -- January's swag includes a George Foreman grill, an M&Ms dispenser and a few not completely unattractive vases -- and, once, Gloudé says, "I won three things and they were all parts out of the same computer. I'm thinking, 'What's the deal with this?' "

The bottom line, Gloudé says, is, "it's just nice camaraderie."

Jerry Lopez of Santa Fe and The Fat City Horns has been a FIORE president for about 2½ years and also was invited to join by Sardelli.

"I just love the camaraderie," Lopez agrees, "and I also love the fact that within this room is a very eclectic group of people from all walks of life."

But here's a secret: That do-nothing credo? It ain't necessarily so.

While heavy-handed business or political networking is frowned upon, FIORE presidents are free to ask one another for help on other gigs. During this particular meeting, Sardelli -- while taking care to stress that it's not FIORE-related and that it's totally OK if people don't want to do it -- announces he's organizing a Fourth of July military benefit and would welcome anybody who wants to help out.

Immediately, a few presidents shout out that they're in.

It all verges dangerously close to actually doing something. But that's also probably unavoidable when you're dealing with a group of accomplished guys with energy to spare.

"I've seen (members) circle the wagons for some pretty altruistic things," Lopez confides. "And there's a lot of connections and power in all these people who are having fun.

"I've seen some really nice things with veterans (causes) and so on, and it gives me an opportunity to hook up with like-minded people. We've all been blessed enough to give back."

Maybe the riddle of FIORE is best answered by Sardelli in his opening welcome to newcomers.

"What we are is, we are a bunch of friends," he says.

Aww.

"And the fact you're here means that somebody thinks highly of you as a guy with a great attitude and low expectations."

Zing.

Contact reporter John Przybys at jprzybys@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0280.