In a previous post I mentioned that around the time I had the idea for A Life’s Work I also considered making a documentary about tribute bands, that was late 2004 or early 2005.
Sometime in there, and for a reason I don’t now remember, I was in Los Angeles. At LAX I boarded the plane, took my seat, and watched the folks file by, wondering who would sit next to me. A little person walked down the aisle and sat beside me.
I’m a friendly sort of guy, so I engaged him in conversation. Home was Long Island. I asked him what brought him to L. A., business or pleasure? He told me he was in a band and they had a gig. And the name of his band? Mini-Kiss. I had heard of them, somehow, somewhere. They were a tribute band who donned the regalia and performed the stage antics, but did not play their own instruments. I told him about the documentary idea and he gave me the name of his agent, invited me to one of the band’s upcoming NYC shows.
This, I thought then, was clearly a sign to pursue that film.
But I thought about Kiss and Mini-Kiss. Mostly I thought about Kiss and getting the rights to the music. Obviously, this film couldn’t work without the music, and what original band of some fame (and that’s a given) would give me permission to use their music as performed by a shadow band? Even I knew getting the rights to Kiss songs would be nearly impossible. And that’s just Kiss. Imagine getting the rights to Kiss and Led Zepplin and U2 and the Doors, etc.
Then, as I noted in the earlier post, I discovered the film had already been made, Tribute, so the idea went in the bin where good but unusable ideas go, and I decided to proceed with A Life’s Work, despite the apparent lack of mysterious signs.
Most of the time I think the universe is a random and impersonal place. I think it doesn’t send messages or give clues or point in a direction. But sometimes I can’t help but believe the Universe cares what I do and where I go. Which confuses things and makes me ask questions like: When is a thing a sign and when is a thing not a sign? And if a certain thing is a sign, what exactly is it saying? And why are only some things signs? Or is every thing a sign and it’s just a question of being tuned into the right frequency?
I don’t remember the man’s name I met on that flight, and I only remember he wasn’t “Mini-Gene,” but that was one of the most enjoyable encounters I had on a plane. He was a really nice guy.
And to quote a line from a song by the mighty fine Scottish pop band, Teenage Fanclub, who are worthy of a tribute band, ain’t that enough?