"Memories
Surrounding This Picture
of Me with Tommy the Clown"
written by Chris Blunk
Click for a larger version
This photograph portrays Tommy the Clown (left) and myself at the 2004 Sundance Film Festival. I am unclear on who took the picture, even though I had loaned this person my camera moments before. For our purposes, we will refer to him as "Michael Stoecker."
The story behind this picture: This meeting betwixt myself and Mr.Clown occurred about halfway through the ten-day festival in the mountains of Park City, Utah. Just the night before, I had seen David LaChapelle's short documentary "Krumped," which would later grow into David LaChapelle's feature-length documentary, Rize. Both concerned a popular form of hip-hop dancing called "Krumping." The movement's genesis can be traced back to South-Central Los Angeles where it was started by Tommy the Clown as an alternative to gang violence.
Tommy the Clown (real name Thomas the Clown) featured heavily in the documentary short as an inspiring man who overcame imprisonment on drug charges and became a spokesperson for ex-governor of California Grey Davis* then started this revolutionary dance movement that has kept thousands of youth off the streets and out of gang culture. His tale is an excellent story of perseverance over adversity (God only knows what happens to a man with a three-foot high rainbow afro in prison). His smile in the photograph is telling - he genuinely enjoys his time at Sundance, cold weather, expensive food, and "celebrity invasion" notwithstanding.
Speaking of the influx of celebrities at Sundance, I feel it pertinent to mention that I have no skill whatsoever in spotting famous people. At Sundance, sooner or later you will find yourself in line for popcorn with Danny Glover or across the aisle from Steve Buschemi or at a party with the principal from "Saved by the Bell" or in bed with Paris Hilton. I never notice these people until they are pointed out to me by my friends, who have the uncanny ability to recognize faces unaccompanied by captions. I might recognize Nicole Kidman if she, say, descended on a trapeze from the ceiling wearing a leotard and singing "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend." But buying a hot dog from a cart on the street? Not likely. What my friends don't realize is that I'm lucky if I recognize them. In fact, I will often go for long periods without using anybody's name because I do not recollect who it is I'm sitting/driving/attending a funeral with.
So when I noticed Tommy the Clown, I was elated. It's like staring in frustration at that "hidden pictures" puzzle in the Highlights for Children magazine at the dentist office, and just as you're about to shove a pen through the page in frustration, you spot the spoon. It was in the wood grain of the table all along. How about that.
Tommy the Clown was my hidden celebrity find. "Krumped" being still fresh in my mind, I picked Tommy out immediately. I mentioned already his infectious smile, which must be what made him popular with the children. I had also observed in the film that he stood not much taller than myself, had chestnut eyes, and a stocky but muscular build toned by years of fast dances. Plus he's dressed like a clown.
So my reasons (as a desperate, starry-eyed celebrity hanger-on wannabe) for being in the photo are apparent. The question historians will debate for many long years is this: why the hell would Tommy pose for a photograph with some anonymous goofball? There appears to be a bozo in this photo, and for once it's not the clown.
Tommy's mysterious reasons may have been superficial. Perhaps it was the unspoken kinship of wearing bright red. Perhaps it was our similar facial hair (black, thin, drawn on with a marker). Or perhaps Tommy took inventory of my unkempt hair, five o'clock shadow, and odor and mistook me for a drug user in need of rehabilitation. This last option seems unlikely, as he did not teach me to Krump my way to sobriety or anything, but instead resumed dancing with some children as he had been before I asked for the photo. Kinda stuck-up, if you ask me.
But this document of smelly festival goer and hip-hop clown remains in a special place in my heart. It says I share in Tommy's dream for a nonviolent future. It says even a man as busy as Tommy can take a moment for a new fan. It says I totally went to Sundance and saw someone famous and you didn't.
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* Yes, this is an improvement.