I have a meeting, but when I get back I’ll write a description of the GQ Awards….
Meeting is over. Last night Susan took me as her date to the GQ Men of the Year Awards at Hammerstein’s Ballroom. We arrived and were sent down the red carpet with Heath Ledger and Naomi Watts on our heels. The paparazzi forms a complete faceless wall of camera lenses and they just silently stared at Susan and I but blinked and clicked in a mad frenzy for Heath and Naomi. They ducked in the “little people” entrance with us to avoid interviews. Upon entering the lobby we were given bad wine and herded up to the balcony to make small talk with fifty other people in advertising. Below us four hundred or so stars and assistants picked at bad food. The show began with a decent performance by Chris Isaac and then some bombing by Dennis Miller. I liked his jokes but the crowd didn’t really have the attention span to catch his obscure references. He did slam the terrible Ron Galotti and referred to his previous gig as “Mute”.
They presented the awards quickly and a lot of the recipients had mailed in taped thank-you speeches. Of the ones who were there, Hugh Grant and Tom Brokaw gave the best responses. Hugh was clever in that scripted British way and was thoughtful enough to thank Nick Hornby. Tom thanked the journalists still in the field and then walked out with his hand on Jane Pauley’s rump.
After a while I was getting a little bit bored so I snuck downstairs to get Susan and I more drinks. The area behind the tables had opened up as a lounge for smokers. I walked right down on the floor to one of the bars while Dr. J was presenting an award to Jason Kidd. Apparently stars do not tip, because I did and it made the bartender my best friend for the next hour. I was about to go back upstairs when I noticed Dre (short) and Big Boi (short) of Outkast just hanging out. They were very friendly and approachable so I asked a PA to take a picture of Dre and me. He smiled more for a picture with a few ladies moments before this one, but he was still very nice to me. Drank Poland Spring water the whole night. Very short. Shortly after I talked with Dre, Jason Kidd (tall) came walking through and an excited fan handed her camera to an unrecognized Big Boi and ordered him to snap a pic of her and Kidd, which he amicably did.
As the show ended, we followed Molly Sims (tall) and Tara Reid (short) up to the seventh floor for the after party. It was smoky affair with only the B-list celebrities like Monica Lewinsky (big, in taffeta) and Jacob Dylan (short) still in attendance, so we had a few more drinks and went home.
I’m not a big celebrity gawker, but it is fun to indulge once in a while as part of the New York experience. When I had arrived I tried to be hipster cool and said that my only goal was to meet Jonathan Safran Froer, but by the end of the night I was staring at Samuel L. Jackson and today I’m dropping names like a coke dealer. Well, everyone should be allowed to be hypocritical on their own website.
I have a meeting, but when I get back I’ll write a description of the GQ Awards.
…
Meeting is over. Last night Susan took me as her date to the GQ Men of the Year Awards at Hammerstein’s Ballroom. We arrived and were sent down the red carpet with Heath Ledger and Naomi Watts on our heels. The paparazzi forms a complete faceless wall of camera lenses and they just silently stared at Susan and I but blinked and clicked in a mad frenzy for Heath and Naomi. They ducked in the “little people” entrance with us to avoid interviews. Upon entering the lobby we were given bad wine and herded up to the balcony to make small talk with fifty other people in advertising. Below us four hundred or so stars and assistants picked at bad food. The show began with a decent performance by Chris Isaac and then some bombing by Dennis Miller. I liked his jokes but the crowd didn’t really have the attention span to catch his obscure references. He did slam the terrible Ron Galotti and referred to his previous gig as “Mute”.
They presented the awards quickly and a lot of the recipients had mailed in taped thank-you speeches. Of the ones who were there, Hugh Grant and Tom Brokaw gave the best responses. Hugh was clever in that scripted British way and was thoughtful enough to thank Nick Hornby. Tom thanked the journalists still in the field and then walked out with his hand on Jane Pauley’s rump.
After a while I was getting a little bit bored so I snuck downstairs to get Susan and I more drinks. The area behind the tables had opened up as a lounge for smokers. I walked right down on the floor to one of the bars while Dr. J was presenting an award to Jason Kidd. Apparently stars do not tip, because I did and it made the bartender my best friend for the next hour. I was about to go back upstairs when I noticed Dre (short) and Big Boi (short) of Outkast just hanging out. They were very friendly and approachable so I asked a PA to take a picture of Dre and me. He smiled more for a picture with a few ladies moments before this one, but he was still very nice to me. Drank Poland Spring water the whole night. Very short. Shortly after I talked with Dre, Jason Kidd (tall) came walking through and an excited fan handed her camera to an unrecognized Big Boi and ordered him to snap a pic of her and Kidd, which he amicably did.
As the show ended, we followed Molly Sims (tall) and Tara Reid (short) up to the seventh floor for the after party. It was smoky affair with only the B-list celebrities like Monica Lewinsky (big, in taffeta) and Jacob Dylan (short) still in attendance, so we had a few more drinks and went home.
I’m not a big celebrity gawker, but it is fun to indulge once in a while as part of the New York experience. When I had arrived I tried to be hipster cool and said that my only goal was to meet Jonathan Safran Froer, but by the end of the night I was staring at Samuel L. Jackson and today I’m dropping names like a coke dealer. Well, everyone should be allowed to be hypocritical on their own website.