I'm looking into becoming a Muslim cleric so I can declare a Fatwa on the booking agent at the Jupiter. Everyone knows what a Fatwa is, right? First the offending individual shames Muhammad, or touches an unclean woman, or prays towards Boise instead of Mecca. After stoking the ire of denominational leaders, the individual is issued a Fatwa, then ostracized and shunned (if not hunted outright). Salman Rushdie has one; Osama bin Laden has one. And soon, so shall Jeremiah Jones.
It all started three weeks ago when our production staff sought to cement the movie's premiere date. Chris shot him emails, visited and called the venue repeatedly. And, really, the goal there was just determining whether April 20 was already booked. A simple YES or NO question. The reply could have literally been one character long.
Jeremiah made no indication that we were even on his radar. To be fair, I've since discovered that he prefers an AOL account to his work email. But then, why even have a work email? Why put it on the website, then not list the alternative one below? His later claim that he recieved no Chris Merritt emails, therefore, is moot.
Since Chris made no headway, I cast my line into the pond. Bear in mind, I'm still in Southern California, and Jupiter's still on the Tuscaloosa Strip, so I had to just call and hope he answered. I left a message or two, and he finally answered on my third try. (I'd obtained his private number through surreptitious means...) After an awkward, forced hello, he honed right in on what I was after, which told me he'd received the emails. He gruffly stated that April 20 was booked, then fell silent and offered no suggestions or counter-proposals. I could see that Mr. Helpful wasn't exactly teeming with ideas, so I arranged to call him back.
The next day, I raised him after a couple unreturned calls, meaning to book the thing for May 4. We set the calendar and discussed details, but he surprised me with a confoundingly excessive rental fee. I went ahead and made the book, but with the understanding that we'd talk further.
I related these findings to Chris, who found the figures baffling, particularly as he'd had ongoing contact with local musicians who'd used the venue in the past. We determined that I'd approached this all wrong, that I'd failed to clarify the profit potential. Once Jeremiah started "inventing" fees for sound considerations and trying to rent a room that should have been free, I stripped my proposal down to a bare bones presentation of the movie alone, no music acts. But my greatest weapon was having onboard two of the hottest bands in the Tuscaloosa music scene:
Baak Gwai and
Chinese Dentist.
Members of either band graciously offered to pick up where I'd left off in dealing with Jeremiah, essentially acting as a delegation. So, I called Jeremiah yesterday to set this up, telling him first that we had to renegotiate the terms. He responded in his flacid way that he couldn't wave the fees, that they weren't arbitrary numbers, and that the rental fee was what it was. Not good enough, I told him.
I wanted to make it plain that KW2 is a movie with a built-in following, that our track record should speak for itself. While in the middle of recounting our packed releases for KW1 and "Dude, Where's My Boat?" I felt a sudden surge of dead air on the line, even deader than his already vacuous personality. He had hung up on me.
Persistence is my strongsuit, so I called back.
No answer. I tried again, but went ignored. After my fifth try he answered, pretending like nothing happened.
"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you didn't just hang up on me."
"I didn't hang up on you..."
Didn't matter to me; if you're cut off in the middle of a civil conversation and they don't answer when called back (until being annoyed into doing so) that's still a hang-up.
I didn't care to argue the point. I simply tried to arrange a meeting with the delegation for some time in the next day or two, and that's when his volume really peaked.
"I don't have time to meet anyone. We got Kenny Chesney playing this week."
"We have time sensitive marketing considerations. You've kept us waiting long enough."
"Man, we got Kenny Chesney! Do you know who that is? You're asking me to worry about something going down in May, months away."
"Aren't you the one who told me you typically book shows 6 to 12 months in advance? Is this a business or isn't it?"
"Kenny Chesney!"
I wittled him down a bit, and he somehow found a way to reduce the trumped up fee, confirming our suspicions that he'd tried to fleece us. More than anything, he was clearly sick of being berated. He said he was trying to feed his baby daughter.
"This is rude. Do you know how rude this is? Bugging me when I'm trying to feed my daughter!"
"Let's review the definition of rude, shall we? In my book rude is not returning emails, not returning phone calls, and hanging up on someone when they're trying to make you money..."
We bickered another few minutes, then ended on a note of mutual loathing. He agreed to see my delegation, but on his terms, meaning I had two hours to get our players in position. The only musician available on short notice was Chris Johnson of Chinese Dentist (who also plays "Charles" in KW2). Johnson graciously obliged Merritt and I by meeting Jeremiah at the Jupiter yesterday evening.
The very first thing our shaggy friend said: "I'm not dealing with Matt Stewart anymore." It was with that abrupt declaration that Chris Johnson became our defacto distribution manager. They spoke amicably on the details, finally agreeing to a number sure to please everyone. (And far below the "bargain" he'd originally tried to bilk us into.) Special thanks to Mr. Johnson for making the deal.
But my emnity for Mr. Jones has still not past. It didn't help when I learned he'd called my office asking for me, and he left a message using choice language. So it's with deep regret and apologies to Western religions that I must now transform myself into a ruthless fundamentalist cleric. In good time, I will have climbed the ranks of a small but faithful congregation, winning their trust and respect and maybe even... their love. When they're prepared to die for me, that's when I'll mobilize the lot and start drilling them for the unholy crusade in which they're about to partake. Look out, Jeremiah. I'm about to go Jihad.
Matt
