Licensing of a Score

He’s walking around in Shinjuku on his way home when I call him.  He’s just gotten a new pair of expensive ear buds from his girlfriend for his birthday.  I keep quite about the Iron Man headphones.  He tells me about a wonderful story:  He submitted some a piece of music at his place of employment to see if it might not win the chance to serve as the theme music for the film they were making.   The company is question is huge and cool, there would be a lot of prestige involved.

His tune, anonymously submitted, was the one the entire team voted to use.  He was over the moon, not only because it was a great affirmation but there was ten-thousand dollars or so in the budget for licensing of a score.  Finally, making money doing what he loved. I was really proud of him. 

I handed the phone over to the older daughter and she went off to talk to him for a while.  The younger one had her turn and she of course couldn’t wait to show him what it was she’d bought him.  I’m going over there next week.  I’ll give it to him then, I told her.  “Let momma wish him a happy birthday too.”  “I can’t talk now I’m cooking.”

And in a way that would have been impossible at any other time but now was commonplace, he basically joined us for diner, and we kept chatting assay , while we ate and then he cooked a his curry dinner across the Yellow Sea, across the Sea of Japan.  Is this what it will be with my daughters before long?  Everyone dialing-in?  If that’s all we get, I’ll take it.

Monday, 11/20/17