Whenever
I talk to aspirants hoping to make a mark in the media and/or sports
businesses, I always stress how interconnected the various facets of the
industries have become. With video on the internet, radio on TV, and rappers in
the sports business, the expertise one gathers and the connections one makes in
one place may well pay off somewhere else. Even if they want to work in one
certain medium, a job in another can help them get to their preferred career
more effectively than ever before.
Last
week, the Fort Worth Weekly put a photo of me on their cover. The story inside talked
about a documentary project on which I’m working and also covered much of my
career. It has resulted in social media attention, a few double takes at restaurants,
and, hopefully, added credibility in future endeavors. It has been a positive
event.
It also
got me to thinking about the path that led to it coming out in print. I
realized the events followed one of those unplanned trails of diverse experiences
inimical to today’s interconnected world.
Let’s
start with the project that got the paper interested. Like many endeavors a
long time coming, this one started with my father, whom we’ll call Salvatore.
I’ve decided to change the names of the people in this story, partially in case
they don’t want to be mentioned and partially because it will amuse those who
know them (including me).
Anyway,
back in the day when Salvatore was athletic director at a university I’ll call
Kruger College of Industrial Smoothing, he recommended me for a job doing
announcing with a local cable outfit televising some of the school’s athletic
events. That job grew into a regular gig, and when the local pro hockey team
won the Wonderful Hockey Association of Texas championship, I got to write and
produce a documentary on the season that led to the WHAT title. A few years
later, when the local baseball team, the Lagrave Leopards, celebrated its
history, I wrote another documentary.
Meanwhile,
I had also begun to work full-time for another baseball club. We’re going to
call them the Randol Mill Rutabagas. At the Bagas, I worked making commercials
with a co-worker ostensibly named Callie Kringle. Callie was exceptionally
competent and helped make my work better. She also had a better half. Her
husband and I got along well because we both liked the taste of a beverage
called whuskey (some varietals are spelled whusky).
Mr.
Kringle is an architect and he and I talked about doing a documentary on a
project he was working on. We never gained any traction with it, but the work
we did on it, plus his knowledge of my creative background, led him to
recommend me to a former colleague. The colleague now worked at the
architecture firm rebuilding the damaged schools in West, Texas. The company
wanted to create a documentary about the process and must have decided the
credentials accumulated through my work with the Rutabagas, the previous
documentary projects, and the recommendation of my whuskey-drinking friend made
me the guy to spearhead the project.
That
project got the attention of the newspaper. They assigned their film writer to
cover the story, and, consequently, me. But how did they find out about it?
That tale has its roots in television, treks through music, has a baseball
element, and, once again, involves drinking.
While I
was doing sports announcing, I simultaneously held a full-time gig at a local
TV station we’re going to pretend is named KOWW. At KOWW, I worked with a
colleague named, for our purposes here, Bruno. Bruno and I both liked music,
and bonded over it. Many years later, he put together a jam, and some of those
musicians and I later got together in a blues band called A Little Cake and Some
Icing. We played a lot of fun biker shows and saw some things we’ll never be able
to forget. After that band broke, up a couple of the members and I started a
band called Loda Dimes. I went ahead and used its real name because nobody’s
ever heard of it anyway.
In an
attempt to establish a stronger presence for Loda Dimes in the music scene, I
joined the local music co-op. There I met and worked with its driving force, an
MC whose name we’ll say is Elric Gryffindor. Elric and I both liked music and
baseball. He worked at the Fort Worth Weekly. Aha, you just said, I see where
this is going! But then, suddenly, he left the Weekly!
But later
Elric went back to the paper. At some point after his return, he and I went out
to drink a beverage we both liked called “boor.” While we consumed some
microboors, I told him about the documentary project. He went to his editor
with the idea that a story about a local guy doing a movie related to an
important event might interest folks. She agreed, the story got done, and my
face got plastered on newsstands across Tarrant County.
The point
of this whole blog post you’ve managed to digest is that it wouldn’t have
gotten done without the interplay of varied experiences in the entertainment
business. From college sports to TV to pro sports to music to documentary
films, they all helped lead to a positive career development.
I often
tell folks the most important thing for advancement is demonstrating to people
that you’re not crummy at what you do. I actually usually use stronger
language, but you might be reading this to your kids. Tell them to never miss
an opportunity to do show their competence, no matter what the endeavor.
After
all, who would have thought that playing blues in biker bars, watching hockey
fights, and drinking whuskey with architects would get a guy on the front page
of the paper?
