Hollywood Halloween Premier

Mitch works at The Inn and one of his co-workers in the pub, Nick, is good friends with Malcolm McDowell. He comes in and drinks and golfs all the time. He gave Nick two tickets to the premier of Halloween at Grauman's Chinese on Thursday night. Mitch couldn't go so he told Nick that he had this great friend who was fun and loved the Halloween movies. That's me. Awww. It's nice to be loved.
Kelly McDowell told Nick we should be there at 6:15 at the latest. And so we were. There were blockades already set up on both sides of Hollywood Blvd. to hold back the watching crowds. We stood in a line briefly until we heard a security guard barking for people who needed will call. That was us. I felt a little important moving past these throngs of spectators to get our tickets. I saw the thicket of photographers clustered in front of the theater where the old box office used to be. Red velvet rope lined the sidewalks. Lots of people around us talking about their latest projects and who they were working with, and on, and it was all so pretentious. I found it a laughable attempt at attention. If you're trying to impress me people, you have failed. I don't care.
Tickets in hand, we proceeded up the sidewalk to the front of the theatre. And there was the red carpet. And there I was walking on the red carpet at Grauman's Chinese Theater. The photographers barely glanced at me and I didn't care. I was on the damn red carpet. Head held high and walking slowly to savor it all. I had on my black, red and white polka dotted dress with my wide black belt, black satin and sequin clutch, and black patent leather, four inch heels. Said heels found a niche in the signatures in the cement beneath the carpet and almost brought me to my knees. That would have been not good, to say the least. It was such a shit-eating grin experience for me. I hope there are many more to come.
Complimentary soda and popcorn awaited us inside at the concession counter. Assigned seating per our tickets, and I am so glad. I was not looking forward to fighting people for good seats. There isn't a bad seat at the Grauman's Chinese. We were on the upper left side. The movie didn't start until about 8:15 and the McDowells didn't show until about 8:05. So much for getting their early. I saw a woman directing an older couple to the side door of the theatre where they could get the best shot of their son, Rob Zombie, doing his press interviews. Such a sweet couple.
Tons of people simply wandered up and down the theater aisles trying to be seen. There was no reason for these women to be making this pointless trek back and forth. And there was no reason for the guy behind me to be standing the entire hour and a half before the movie started except he was trying to be seen. It was so laughably ridiculous. Then I saw a man in a white linen suit and white fedora walking up the aisle to the lobby. Recognition slowly dawned on me as he walked across the theater. My eyes grew wide. Holy hell. It's Mickey Dolenz. My favorite Monkee, a major influence on my sense of humor, and a target for my young affections. I started jumping up and down in my seat. This little troll doll woman, with the most bizarre hair I have seen in a long time, said, "Are you a big Halloween fan?" I said, "I'm a big Mickey Dolenz fan." She said, "Oh, he plays the gun store owner in the movie." "Oh", I said. If she was trying to impress me with her prior knowledge of the movie then she had failed. I don't care who you are or who you think you are stop trying to impress me and everyone else around you. Damn, I was in a mood about that, man. Still am. Pretension in Hollywood? The hell, you say.
The producers got on the mic at the front of the theater to say a few words and thank a few people. Rob Zombie got up there and told the story of calling John Carpenter to tell him he was remaking his movie. He said that John said, "And? What do I care?" Rob told him he just wanted to let him know and that John said, "Ok. Go for it. Have fun." That's good stuff right there. I really think Carpenter is over the whole Halloween thing, and has been for some time now. When Malcolm and his wife arrived he was in the most jovial of moods. He gave Rob a huge hug and was hugging all of his friends. I recognized his two older children Lily and Charlie. They grew up in Ojai and I've seen them around town a lot. She looks just like her mother, Mary Steenburgen, only with blonde hair, and he looks JUST like his father. Spitting image.
The movie was fantastic. And I was skeptical because I love the original. This remake combined the original and its sequel into one cohesive story line. As long as there was a lot of blood and gore and death I was going to be ok with this movie. I was not disappointed. It starts out with Michael Meyer as a ten year old with a glimpse into his very effed up family life. The child was already disturbed but the way his family treated him and each other did not help him become more normal. I really felt sorry for the kid. Then the killings began. Oh sweet, sweet, bloody killings. Cut to 15 years later and we pick up where the original Halloween started, with a 15 year old Laurie Strode. Now, I know the story so it was no shocker to me that she was the baby sister of Michael. So that psychological effect was lost on me. But a lot of the dialog was the same, and worked really well. The killings happened a lot faster than in the original but were still meaty and not just throw aways. And there were a few bonus killings in there, too. Score. Malcolm McDowell played the psychiatrist and he did a bang up job. The doc from Deadwood played the town sheriff. Rad. The movie went beyond the originals final words to an extended and official ending that was beautiful. There was a cohesive and full follow through of the storyline from beginning to end with a deeper understanding of Michael's disturbances and his love for his little sister, the only family member who never screwed him over. The only pure love he felt he knew. I don't want to give away the good details of the movie I just want to say that everyone should go see this flick because it is a good, solid story and is very entertaining.
After the movie we made our way back inside the theater so Nick could say hello to Malcolm and his wife. he introduced me to them both and we shook hands. They were delightfully wonderful. I've seen Malcolm around Ojai tons and even sold him tennis balls when I worked at The Raquet Club. It was nice to get a formal introduction. Malcolm was so jazzed to see Nick. He gave him a huge hug and a slap on the back and thanked him heartily for coming. His wife Kelly was just darling. We were just a group of people talking. It was very cool.
The tickets to the premier came with two tickets to the after party at The Geisha Room a few blocks down the Blvd. All the paparazzi were behind barricades and we just sauntered up to the entrance and flashed our tickets and were told, "Oh, right this way". The place was jam packed. Tons of stick thin women whom I wanted to feed hamburgers to. We made our way to the bar and ordered a beer, a shot of Patron, and a rum and coke. We waited for the bartender to give us a total and he said those magic words you long to hear, "It's tip only." That means free booze, people. Five dollar tip for three drinks. Dig on THAT. And then there was the sushi. Sushi buffet as far as the eye could see. It was everywhere. And there were servers walking around with platters of shrimp skewers and sushi and delicious madness. Oh, I was in heaven. We made our way up to the second level where we noticed a VIP room with a short wait to get in. So we got in. And there in the middle of the throng was Mr. Mickey Dolenz. My heart skipped a beat. I shook his hand and told him what a big fan I was and that I credited him for my sense of humor and that he was my favorite Monkee. He smiled and thanked me. I also told him his part in the movie was my favorite. We laughed. His four page scene had been cut to a mere two lines. That's how it goes in H-wood. Oh, I was sailing on a high after that. Another dream encounter come true.
I saw the little boy and girl who were being babysat in the movie, the 7 ft tall man who played Michael as an adult, Rob Zombie holding court in a corner of the VIP room, a lot of the other characters, and the brunette who played the neighbor girl on Roseanne who was one of the lucky victims in the movie, and the sheriff's daughter. I never saw the other two main actresses probably because they looked just like all the other rail thin women in the place. The after party was just as I had expected it to be. People only talked to people they already knew. No new friends were made by anyone this night. Everyone stood around looking over their shoulders for someone important. It's all such a show. And the movie itself was an interesting event. Here is this big Hollywood movie premier that felt like 5 guys from high school got together and made a film and invited their friends to come watch it. It was almost cheesy. Especially the way the audience laughed and cheered when each actor first made their appearance on screen. It made me realize these people were no more special than anyone in the world. They just happen to have the spotlight on them. That's it. I know a ton of supremely talented individuals who simply don't have the spot light on them. These famous people just happen to find favor with the right people in charge of this whole shebang called the entertainment business. Nothing more. Because there are a shit-ton of shitty actors out there who have careers because someone with the power latched on to them. This is why independent film got started. Just people taking matters and power into their own hands. And yet the bloody fight for fame and recognition and a wicked paycheck is never ending in Tinsel Town. I really don't want to play that game. Can one make it without doing so? It's about luck and who you know. You can work your ass off for years and never "make it" because you're just not what they're looking for. Or you can walk in and in a week have a starring role on a sitcom. You're what they're looking for or you're not. It's that simple. They don't care where you trained or who you know if you can give them what they're looking for. And if you DO know someone then all the better because then you don't even have to have talent to get the job. It's a fantastic business. The thoughts keep swirling in my head. Risk it all for the possible fabulous prizes or keep a bit of everything and keep on trucking and see where it takes me? I have strong pulls in both directions. And for now, the internal struggle continues.
It was a fantastic time and I hope I get to attend more of these shindigs. Free alcohol, food, rad movies, celebrities, childhood idols, red carpets and spotlights, took much for parking, and being easily the heaviest woman in the room. It was one Long Island Ice tea of a night. And all I have to say to those women is this: mine are real.

Lakeside Shindig

I made a not well-worn enough trip to the land of Nascar and Coors Lite known as Paso Robles this weekend to partake in a big shindig for my Aunt Jeanne's 60th birthday. My cousin Ryan took me and our cousin Jason out on Lake Nacimiento for some sweet Seadoo action. I haven't been on one of those badboys in friggen years. It took me a while to get back into the game but when I did it was on like Donkey Kong. We rode all over that lake; Jason decked out in his Viking helment and Ryan smashing big waves into me every chance he got. Motorcycles on the water. What an invention. We had some Shiner before we left and some Sam Adams Lite when we ran into some of Ryan's acquaintances out on the lake. It had to have been the lone good beer amongst all that Coors. Saints be praised.
Lake culture is not unlike hotrod or dirt bike culture. In fact, the only difference I can think of is it's on the water, and might involve less clothing. Kids on suped-up boats, bumping rap music and drinking Coors Lite. I shuddered internally. Whatever, literally, floats your boat. More for you, man.
The birthday party was at this outdoor pavillian where we set up the tons of food and cocktails, and mardi gras beads on all the tables. The band set up, the wine was uncorked and the punch bowl was flowing. And this wasn't just any wine. Oh no. This was my very own cousin's very own winery, Nacimiento Cellars. We drank the shit out of at least 5 bottles of wine. And some champagne. Mmmmmm....champagne. We all danced like fools and ate like kings. Then we went back to the house and opened another bottle and kept going. It was wonderful to hang out with some of my cousins. I never have. I don't imagine that all 26 of us will ever be in the same place at the same time. But having Jodie, Alisha, Ryan, and Jason there was fantastic. We'll definetly being doing this more often. I can't wait to see the pictures.
Sunday morning was fried eggs, toast, and the crispest hashbrowns you ever did see before we headed back out on the lake for more shennanegins. Zooming around the lake, bouncing off the waves, once you've remembered how to ride, is too much fun. I've only ever ridden on the ocean. Let me tell you about choppy. At least on the lake you don't have to worry about sharks or the like. It really does make all the difference.
We spent the afternoon napping and sleeping off our hangovers and Ryan's raging headache. The 3 hour drive home turned into at least a 4 hour trek, having to deal with the traffic from the last day of the Paso state fair, the last day of Fiesta in Santa Barabara, and the on going Ventura fair. This helped complicate the already shitty Sunday night traffic through Santa Barbara. But it was all worth it. I am still so sore. Good christ. And I think one more good night of sleep should have me all caught up on the madness from this weekend. The age of road trips is reborn. Pack accordingly