Earlier this week, I had the privilege of interviewing Jason Felts for his book-signing event at Next Chapter.
The non-fiction account of his life (thus far), titled ‘Hollywood Virgin’, covers his days as a young teenager in Texas with dreams of working in Los Angeles; how he achieved those dreams; and the successes, sacrifices and sometimes failures along the way.
Until recently, Felts was the CEO of Virgin Produced, but many here may remember him being the driving force behind the KAABOO concert in 2019. (And, if you want to learn the true story about why it didn’t return in 2020 – before the pandemic was even on the radar – buy the book. Interesting stuff.) He worked with Sir Richard Branson, was mentored by the likes of Oliver Stone, produced award-winning movies, and generally rubbed shoulders with the who’s-who of Hollywood for many years … until he decided it was time to get out and do something different.
As I read the book, I admired the sheer hustle Felts had from a very young age – using the ol’ ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ routine, when necessary. And he wasn’t afraid to ask questions, make his presence known, and work whatever job was available to the best of his ability in order to make his way up the ladder.
I completely understood faking knowledge that I didn’t have … and simultaneously doing research before anyone realised. A very small example, in fact, is when I first joined the Compass Media staff, despite never having any formal journalism training. I remember one of the editors telling me that the deck of one of my stories was too long, and I needed to cut it.
“Ah, yes … I wondered if I’d gone on a bit there,” I said, while at the same time Googling
“What the heck is a deck?”.
After scrolling through countless images of pirate ships and yachts, I got to the bottom of it.
“A deck is newspaper lingo for the short article summary that accompanies a headline.” Got it. Now I could argue her point, knowing what I was talking about.
Another example is from over 20 years ago when my entertainment company was in its fledgling state and a few of us friends were partners. We had a potential client who wanted a themed party at the old Treehouse location on North Church Street (now a building site, just before the cemetery and opposite Kirk Market). ‘Castaway’ starring Tom Hanks had got big buzz, so she wanted some decor that gave a bit of a castaway impression, plus entertainment including ‘fortune tellers’.
“Can you guys handle all of that?” she asked.
“Oh, absolutely!” I replied, wondering how we would even begin to handle all of that.
We suggested Wilson volleyballs with red paint handprints on them; a raggedy looking raft down by the water’s edge; some thatch palm leaves attached to various entranceways and anything solid that could stomach a nail gun; and “our fortune tellers have years of experience” … they had none. The latter was for entertainment purposes only, and the two people I was thinking of had a lot of stage experience. How difficult could it be?
She really liked all of our ideas, so the deal was struck, and now we just had to make it happen.
The Wilson volleyballs were the easiest things, so I started with those for an early boost of confidence. Of course, it was my palm that had to be sprayed red to make an imprint on the balls, and then I made a little face on each one. I had no idea how difficult it was going to be to get that paint off my hand. I think I resorted to kerosene in the end, which removed it, but then had me avoiding open flames for some time afterwards.
The raft wasn’t a tough concept, but it was going to be interesting trying to put it into practice. Y’see, I was going to get a bunch of large PVC pipes, get them home, spray them brown, then lash them together with rope. Thing was, I didn’t have a truck. I had a Lincoln Town Car that only chauffeurs and rich old ladies drove. Long story.
Anyhoo, I went to A. L. Thompson’s, bought the pipe, then proceeded to stick all the lengths of it through the back window down and across the back seat. There was almost as much pipe sticking out the side of the car as was in, so I had to approach roundabouts with extreme caution, hugging the inside lane and making sure there weren’t any cyclists in the line of fire. Absolute madness.
Once I got it all home and dragged it out of the car onto our condo’s lawn, the spraying began. What a pain. I had to add multiple coats so it at least vaguely resembled bamboo and it took ages to dry. After one side was done, they all had to be turned over and the action repeated. Next came the process of tying them to each other. I lost count of how many times I banged, squashed and pinched my fingers over those unforgiving hours. I got a stick, tied a old, tattered bedsheet to it like a sail, and the raft was ready.
The final items to grab were the thatch palm leaves. Not everyone will remember, but upstairs by the bathrooms of (now) Bevvy Bar was Top of the Falls Restaurant. That’s when Margaritaville Resort was still Treasure Island. The restaurant had closed down, and there were tons of old thatch leaves stapled to the latticework and trellises inside. The owners were happy for us to cart it away for free – hurrah!
When you’re starting off in business, the more you do yourself, the more money you’ll save. This time, I borrowed a huge truck from a friend that needed the gearshift placed carefully equidistant between Drive and Neutral in order to move. On my work lunch hour, I drove to Treasure Island, ran up the stairs (I was able to then), and went about pulling the leaves off their mounts to throw them into a big laundry bin on wheels I’d managed to temporarily pilfer.
Despite the age of those leaves, they were hardy, so extricating them was rough going. And there was no air-conditioning on. I did as much as I could in the 30 minutes I had, got the bin into the lift, ran it to the truck, threw the leaves into the back, and drove towards Treehouse. The guy on the scooter behind me wasn’t thrilled that I hadn’t tied them down with anything, and after the first fan went flying back, he kept his distance. I made it to my destination in one piece.
The raft, the palm leaves, the volleyballs … we really wondered if we’d bitten off more than we could chew. It was a couple of weeks of labour, but when the big night arrived, it all looked pretty fantastic. And the ‘fortune tellers’, whom I’d assured wouldn’t be too busy, were absolutely slammed from beginning to end.
Client was happy, and we were off to the races! It was thrilling and exhausting, all at the same time.
Reading ‘Hollywood Virgin’ brought a lot of these memories back – when you’re young and you’re willing to take chances to get ahead. Felts said that most of his US tour covered high schools and universities, which makes total sense, as it really could encourage others to go for their dreams. It’s an inspirational read with a foreword by Branson and lots of advice on what’s really important to remember as you try to move forward.
My one piece of advice about moving forward is if you’re going to borrow a truck, get one that drives in Drive.
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