I met up with Peter White this week (the former member of Al Stewart's band from my 06/06/06 post) to show him the pictures of the Vancouver show. He told me he had been reading the blog and found it very entertaining. Thanks, Peter.
He also mentioned that maybe I'm a bit morbid - that maybe by sending him the email with the band photo, I was hoping someone would be dead. The comment was made in passing, very casually, but it stuck with me. If the thought occurred to him, it's probably occurred to most of you. Hell, it even occurred to me. Am I being morbid?
When the title first popped into my head, I thought it was really catchy. And a catchy title, whether you're writing a book or a screenplay, is extremely important. I admit, the title could lead one to think I am hoping all the people I photographed systematically drop dead between now and my publication date. Wouldn't that be great for sales? Yeah sure, that and the FBI on my ass 24/7.
To tell you the truth, I was happy with the number of dead rock stars I had when I started the project - before I began the arduous task of going through the picture boxes and doing the research - back when I did my little book proposal and the number off the top of my head was 20. I'm not pulling out the pom-poms every time I find a new dead person to add to my list. And I'm certainly not sticking pins into any rock star voodoo dolls. But let's face it. Everybody's got to go. You, me and the guy next door. So, my question is: why do we associate death with being morbid? Why is it the forbidden conversation? And, do ya think I'm morbid?
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P.S. to Rod Stewart...you think there's a song in the title of this post?
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4 comments:
Perhaps, then, a subtle twist in the title...
"Everyone I Shot, is Happily Still With Us."
(Implication: with us in this book)
Doesn't have to be that, but one can turn any lemon into apple juice with a little creativity...
Cheers,
Dave O.
*[edited scant minutes later to add the word "book" ]
The other day my niece was RAVING about how much better Salina is than this singer and that person.
Impossible, I told her. She's dead.
Got in trouble with my sister over that so I stole a line from the film, Troy.
"It's no insult to say a dead person is dead."
Here's a habit I picked up from my father:
When I'm watching television with some other folks within earshot, I'll announced, "He's dead" or "She's dead" whenever I see someone who no longer is with us. (The other folks usually think I'm nuts.)
I think we do that because we find it fascinating that although the subject is deceased, the fact that he or she was filmed allows him or her to keep on living within our eyes and ears.
The same applies to music (the ears, at least). I can listen to Zappa or Coltrane or Skip Spence whenever I want, and it's great that I have the opportunity to do so.
In your case, it's great that you have images of people who no longer can be photographed, taken under circumstances that allow us to remember them as talented, fun-loving people.
(I like that quote, Maryan. Haven't seen the film, but I'll have to use that one at the earliest opportunity.)
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