"That’s me. Who are you?" was all the email said. But those five simple words ended a lifetime of mystery and melancholy for singer/songwriter Gregory Page, namesake of the San Diego based band Gregory Page and the Troubled Sleepers.

After a lifelong search, Page uncovered the email address of his long lost father and fired off this email:

"Dear Mr. Hovelian, I am trying to locate a certain Krikor Hovelian who was born in 1940 and who sang in the group I Marziano in the early1960's. I would greatly appreciate any help you could offer. Sincerely, Gregory Page."

"That’s me. Who are you?" was the reply.

See, Krikor Hovelian had no idea he had a son - at least not one named Gregory Page, the fruit of his brief love affair with Maire (Moy) Page.

"He met my mom in the middle east," says Page during our conversation in Java Joe’s in Ocean Beach as he was setting up for his gig that evening. "She was a singer/songwriter/flute player in one of London’s first, all female, beat generation bands. They were called the Beat Chicks. They opened for the Beatles a couple of times in 1965: once in Madrid, once in Barcelona."

His father’s band, I Marziani, (The Martians) and the Beat Chicks played the same concert circuit in the middle east. They met in one of the clubs along that circuit.

"Was it a one-night-stand?" I ask.

"No, no," he answers with his signature soft spoken, kindly voice. "They were deeply in love. They spent a few weeks in Germany together. But his band was leaving on tour and her band went back to London so they separated."

Shortly after that, Page’s mother learned she was pregnant and tried to contact Krikor.

"She had no forwarding address so she sent a telegram to the club [where they met] saying she was pregnant. He never received that telegram."

Page looked for his father for years. He contacted the Armenian embassy and various search groups. All his attempts failed; until a friend gave him a computer and Page logged on to the information masturbatorium and used the internet for something other than pornography.

"The first thing I tried to do was find my father," explains Gregory. "I made a couple of brief, preliminary searches for his name. His last name is quite unusual. I found a Krikor Hovelian living in Paris. ‘Krikor’ is Armenian for ‘Gregory.’ From there I found his email address, his street address, and his phone number. From his phone number - and this is really trippy - I could see his fucking house in Paris."

Page was able to do this thanks to a website that enables you to see any house in the world as long as you have a phone number.

Just after midnight, Gregory sent the email that he hoped would change his life. A half an hour later he recieved the email that did: "That’s me, who are you,"- read the words on the screen like a message in a bottle.

"It felt like I won the emotional lottery, explains Page. "I had to take a three hour shower before writing back just to cool my heart down from a mega-anxiety attack. Finally I emailed my answer:

"I am Gregory David Page, born April 28, 1963 in London. . . . The last time my mother saw you was at the train station in Essen, Germany in 1962. In 1976, we immigrated to America and currently reside in San Diego, California. I make my living writing, singing, and performing my own music in a band called Gregory Page and the Troubled Sleepers. Anticipating your response, G.P."

"Yes I remember," responded Krikor, "How is she? Is she staying with you? And how is your music? Can I hear it?"

Page sent his father a copy of his CD,The John Doe sessions and a photo of himself. What Gregory Page didn’t do was mention to his father that he was his son.

"I was afraid to tell him and I don’t know why,"Page recounted. "My roommate said, ‘You should just say it. Just say it’. . . I’m sure he knew I was his son from the start, but it wasn’t until my third email that I signed it, ‘Your loving son, Gregory.’

Page printed the emails and showed them to his mother.

"‘You won’t believe this.’ I said to her, ‘I think I found him."

Maire Page was astounded. Her lost love had finally been located after more than three decades.

"It’s like a time warp," she says. "Suddenly you’re thinking about those days and what you looked like back then -Then you look in the mirror and get a shock."

I ask if she’s considering a reunion.

"I don’t think my husband would appreciate if I ran off to Paris alone," she says with what a faintly detectable tone of disappointment in her voice, "but he’s open to a family get together. The thought of it is so lovely."

"Is there any doubt that Krikor Hovelian is your father?" I ask Gregory.

"None whatsoever," replies Page, "We look so much alike and have so many of the same mannerisms. His brother said that he should get a DNA test done, but Krikor kept saying, ‘Just look at this photo, he’s definitely my son.’"

Perhaps - now that Page’s quest is completed - he will change his band’s name to, Gregory Page and the Sleeping Much Better Nows. Because rarely - in a world of deadbeat dads, psychotic-possessive mothers, and all around family dysfunction - do you hear about a parental search unraveling so positively: Krikor Hovelian immediately embraced his new son. Page’s step-father - a retired police detective - helped him search for his dad throughout the years. His mother supported the search, Even Krikor’s wife extended her family to her husband’s ex-lover and the child that they had together.

"There’s been so much love," beams Page. "Krikor’s wife (Virgine Hovelian) was actually the first person to call me. She embraced me from the moment we started talking. We developed an amazing relationship. She wanted to tell me about my dad’s situation - he was in a car accident.

"I am the poster boy for a son finding his father. And how great was it that he lives in Paris!? They sent me plane tickets to come visit."

"We were just thinking," wrote Virgine in one of her emails, "why don’t you take the first plane [to Paris] so we can sit around the same table for dinner? I would appreciate an answer to know how many steaks I will need."

Gregory Page was going to meet his father.

"When we met, all we could say to each other was ‘Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ.’ We didn’t even know where to begin."

Later, Krikor and Virgine Hovelian, and their two sons - Norbert (16) and Peiere (Peter/13) - broke bread for the first time with their newest family member.

"We were eating at this Lebanese restaurant in Paris and it finally hit me. *I’m in Paris, and I’m eating with my family!* It was the first moment we were all together. I had lumps in my throat. All the questions that I had about my life have been totally answered in two weeks.

"He felt terrible that he couldn’t be there for us. He kept saying, ‘Your poor mother, your poor mother.’ I always knew she loved him. But it was so comforting to know how deeply he loved her too. He tried to find her too."

Page enjoys the fact that it was music that brought his parents together and is largely responsible for his very existence.

"It makes so much sense," he says, "that the music chose me. Because I didn’t choose it."

As one would expect from a songwriter who had just met his father after three decades of uncertainty, he wrote a song about it. Then he sent the song to his dad to share the intense emotions that surely overwhelmed them both.

"It's been a long time

"How You Came to Me," by Gregory Page.

show plug/ and gregorypage.com plug goes here

Floaters