Back during my undergraduate hey day at Syracuse, there was a bartender named Mark that always overlooked the fact that my fake ID was of an Asian woman from Kansas. He always slipped me an extra pint or two. In addition to being responsible for many of the questionable decisions I made in my very early 20s, Mark eventually married a friend of mine and continued working in film.
Mark is working on a documentary about professional wrestling, and is raising money to cover the costs. Everyone seems to have a Kickstarter campaign these days, but making films is a special animal. Production costs are high enough, not to mention licensing, distribution and the ever important snacks to cover the long hours spent in editing rooms.
Since I have a son named Andre -- directly inspired by Andre The Giant -- I had no choice but to pay the piper. (And finally settle up my karmic bar tab from the roaring 90s.)
P.S. If you're over the age of 30, don't pretend like you didn't like wrestling back in 80s...
