Hooray for Hollywood!

Last week, I had the pleasure of accompanying my daughter, Brittany, to the first ever Kelly Rippa “Live Post-Oscar Show.”  It was filmed at the Kodak theater just hours after the Academy Awards show and a few lucky-duckies got free tickets to be part of the audience—a few thousand that is—three thousand, three hundred, and thirty two, to be exact.  Yes, over three thousand people assaulted the Hollywood Bowl at the un-godly hour of 1:30 a.m. to brave the long lines to the check-in station and then again to the buses that awaited to take us to the Kodak Theater.

All-in-all, I was impressed with way the crew expedited all the starry-eyed or more aptly sleepy-eyed Kelly fans. In fairly short order we were hustled to and fro from line to line and eventually ended up in a warm comfy bus where we sat for a mere hour and a half until we rolled the one-mile distance to the theater. We surely could have walked there in a fraction of the time, but who knew? At the theater we were grouped according to our colored wristbands—think Disneyland lines on steroids. Line upon line curving hither, thither, and yon, throughout the main and upper floors…wait for it…wait for it…and wait for it we did…for nearly two hours.

But despite the lack of sleep and the long drawn out tick-tock of the clock, we still found ourselves a bit giddy over the Hollywoodishness of it all. For here we were standing (at least for the first half hour before we plopped ourselves on the floor) in the hallowed halls of Hollywood’s epicenter where only hours before the Industry’s preened elite struck a pose on the red carpet. OMG!!

Was it the lack of sleep that had me picking itty-bitty beads off the floor and imagining their glorious origins? “This one fell off of Octavia Spencer’s dress, I just know it” and, “That gold whodinky has to be from Jessica Chastain’s McQueen.” Brittany and I must have looked like little monkeys picking at ticks, but we couldn’t have cared less. As we deposited our collection of surely famous beads into our handbags, we dreamed of that starry, starry night and all the other Oscar nights that went before. I could blame it on the lack of sleep, but in all honesty it was the pure intoxication of Tinsel Town itself that had me acting like a star-struck goofball.

When we, the last of the purple wristband lines, were finally ushered into the doorway of the inner sanctum, I couldn’t contain my excitement and bust out a jaunty little rendition of “Hooray for Hollywood, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, Hollywood.” Brittany said I reminded her of Grandpa (my dad) which pleased me immensely.  My dad was often guilty of being a complete cornball, and I am proud to follow in his legacy. Once inside, we were enveloped in a sea of red fabric—our eyes ricocheting back and forth from floor to ceiling, to stage.  As we lapped up the eye candy we found ourselves walking right past our fellow purple wristbanders and straight up front to the 10^th row. We later found out our misguided guide had mistakenly planted us in the VIP section.  Of course, this only added to the excitement as we tried to recall which famous so-and-so was sitting in our very seats the night before and in years past. And at 6:00 a.m. sharp, the magical moment came where we saw the real stars —not just the ones in our head —as Kelly and cast did their thing.

What a night to remember! As Britt and I walked arm-in-arm through the corridor where the stars had walked the red carpet, past the work crews clearing the stands and stations, over the star-studded sidewalk to the Hollywood Bowl, we once again marveled at our good fortune. What a strange and surreal experience it was.  But, don’t think that we were completely fooled by it all. We know that movie stars are just regular people, and that Hollywood is make believe, but for that brief period of time we let ourselves be swept up, behind the moon, beyond the rain, somewhere over the rainbow, and it was…magic.