Ten years ago, I saw Blue Man Group in Las Vegas. They were just hitting their stride and making waves nationwide. But to a person, whenever I asked what the show was about, I would get the same puzzled look, followed a long pause, and usually ending up with saying, “I’m not really sure, but it was cool!”
One writer referred to it as the “omni-sexual Promise Keepers for the New Millenium,” which makes about as much sense as tits on a bull. Needless to say I had no idea what for what was in store for me.
The year 2000 found me in the midst of a dense fog, a time of personal disillusionment in need of clarity. Call it midlife crisis, call it depression, whatever label you put on it, I was not in a good place.
A glimpse of that clarity came in the middle of the show, when the stage went dark, and on the large, back screen came a flash of random question marks, lit in red LED lights, popping out here and there in the darkness. Soon the question marks became more frequent and eventually they started following in a line back and forth. Eventually the screen was filled with question marks, now moving in a steady flow from left to right, up and down. All I could see was a screen full of red.
At this point, a Blue Man came out, climbed a ladder and reached out for the screen. He pulled out of the moving rows of question marks, a small section, about 3 foot in length and showed it to the audience. The red question marks in his hand were still moving in sequence with the ones on the screen. He turned back, reached and grabbed another bar, now holding two bars full of red LED question marks.
I think I saw where this was going.
The Blue Man took these two bars and began to beat out a rhythm on a drum and I suddenly got chills.
Have these guys have been reading my mail?!?
The idea of moving ahead while still armed with questions and making something despite them was an epiphany. The dream of bread&cup was just forming, but I had more questions than answers. The Blue Men said to hell with your questions. Are you going to let them stop you from living your life?
My answer was no. And I have a thriving restaurant to prove it.