Miami Herald

Across from the blue margaritas and black Bentleys that dot Ocean Drive, a floppy-haired boy sporting a SpongeBob SquarePants backpack, baggy jeans and camouflage shirt climbed a set of handrails near the beach.

His father and a friend propped up speakers and microphones on the cracked cement floor of a nearby outdoor pavilion -- a makeshift concert stage awaiting a 4-foot, 37-pound, 7-year-old rock star.

On that recent hot and sticky night, the brown-haired boy bounced off his temporary handrail play set and hopped in the sand. When the men finished readying the stage, the boy's dad called him over.

It was time -- time for a soon-to-be Hialeah Elementary School second-grader who plays and sings classic rock songs five and sometimes six nights a week throughout Miami-Dade County to toddle on the stage and perform.

He pulled his miniature acoustic guitar out of a case and lifted the strap over his head. He pushed his hair back from his chocolate-colored eyes and leaned into the microphone.

''Hello,'' he said with a deep Argentine accent, ``my name is Lucciano Pizzichini.''

His dad, Adrian Pizzichini, the other half of the band, held a guitar and sat quietly on a stool behind him.

''I'm from Argentina, and I'm 7 years old,'' said ''Lucchy,'' as his dad nicknamed him. ``I hope you enjoy my show.''

Moments later, Lucchy's pick struck the guitar string and Susie Q was carried on the air from the beach to the nearby Mango's Tropical Café.

People crowded around and pulled out their camera phones while Lucchy leaned back, tapped his black Converse shoe in rhythm and stuck the guitar solo without a single stray note. Passersby walked within feet of the boy and squinted at his fingers as they moved on the guitar, as if what they heard couldn't be real.

By Lucchy's last few notes, about 40 people had crowded around the pavilion and dollar bills poked out of the glass jar in his guitar case.

A BIOPIC AT 7?

About six months ago, Pablo Levinas strolled into a similar scene on Lincoln Road and, like most who hear Lucchy play, he couldn't walk away.

''I saw him play on Lincoln Road, and as a ..ary filmmaker it's a dream to have anything like this fall from the sky,'' Levinas said. ``It's really amazing.''

Although Lucchy had played a song or two with his dad's band before that night Levinas discovered him, it was the first full-length set he had headlined in public. Soon after, Levinas approached the family and said he wanted to make a film about Lucchy, a request that has since turned Levinas into a part-time manager for Lucchy while he films.

''I was just blown away,'' Levinas said, ``like everybody else.''

Lucchy's connection with the music was born well before he was.

Adrian Pizzichini, 40, played tunes by his favorite guitarists -- like Pat Metheny, George Benson and Paul McCartney -- to Lucchy when he was still in his mother's womb in Buenos Aires. When Lucchy was 11 months old, Adrian, his mother, Sandra, and he moved to Miami. By 2, Lucchy was plucking a one-string guitar, and before he was 4 he could strum entire songs, his family says.

''I like playing songs,'' said Lucchy, who, although he can sing and read English, doesn't speak it fluently, especially when he's nervous. ``The more people the better.''

The Pizzichinis now live in Hialeah. They rent an old two-bedroom house marked with chipped plaster walls and split front-porch tiles. Almost a dozen guitars are strewn throughout the living room, flanked by toy cars and coloring books.

Spider-Man, Lucchy's favorite superhero, covers the walls and window blinds in his room even though he says the third film in the series was ''boring . . . no action.'' He also likes movies and board games, along with his Mickey Mouse blanket.

''He never stays still,'' said Sandra Pizzichini, 26, who gets nervous when she watches her son perform. ``He wants to play all the time.''

DIFFERENT STROKES

In some ways, Lucchy is just like any other 7-year-old, but in most ways he's not at all.

Lucchy giggles at SpongeBob SquarePants and likes silly magic tricks, but he's memorized every note and every word in almost 40 songs.

He blushes when anyone talks about two girls he likes, but he can hold a guitar behind his head and play perfect melodies.

He talks to the teddy bear he named ''Marselito,'' adorned with a Miami Dolphins jersey, but he recently completed the first volume of the Berklee Press A Method for Guitar, written originally for college students.

''Well, this is the first non-teenager that I know who went through that book all the way,'' said Larry Baione, chair of the Berklee College of Music's guitar department. ``That's way above ordinary.''

Despite two hours a day of intensive music study with his father, who studied music in Argentina, Lucchy finds time for friends and to play video games and soccer.

A FATHER'S DEVOTION

Adrian Pizzichini used to play with other bands but has quit in the last few months to devote himself to Lucchy and his future. He still teaches music lessons for about $50 an hour, and Sandra Pizzichini works all day at a supermarket. Adrian Pizzichini and Levinas say all the money made on the street, about $100 a night, goes to Lucchy's acting, dancing and singing lessons.

''When he plays, I can close my eyes and just enjoy the music,'' said Adrian Pizzichini. ``It's beautiful.''

When they have a gig, Adrian and Lucchy pile the music equipment into a grayed Mazda Protégé and head to South Beach or Hollywood or wherever the show is that night.

Through his local shows and a MySpace.com Web page, which has accumulated about 63,000 hits, Lucchy has accrued a small but growing fan base.

''I've never seen a kid like that,'' said Martin Zaluk, as he waited for Lucchy to play on Lincoln Road. ``He's like an amazing little rock star.''

''This is a child prodigy,'' said Aliza Sebag, a Phyllis R. Miller Elementary School teacher who has coached music for 25 years. ``I've seen children who are very talented before, but not like this.''

For Adrian Pizzichini, just making music with his son, his best friend, is enough. Sometimes, he even slips on sunglasses when he watches Lucchy play to hide the tears.

''Me Siento dichoso,'' he said. ``That is the best that I can feel.''