Checking In To 'Hotel California' While Playing Rock 'N Roadie
DESPERATELY SEEKING PARIS
Checking Into 'Hotel California' As A Rock 'N Roll Roadie
THURSDAY, AUGUST 13TH, 6:42 a.m.: WHEW, I'M FINALLY ON VACATION. Packing now to get to airport. Going to LA to roadie for Peter, Bjorn and John. This is the band that my bro Chris is tour managing. The band's opening for Depeche Mode for six shows: one in San Diego, two at the Hollywood Bowl, one in Santa Barbara, one in Anaheim and finally the Palms in Las Vegas.
Note to self: Get with Paris Hilton.
10:03 a.m.: Off to a bad start. The airport shuttle wasn't working so I missed the 45 minute deadline to check bags by 3 minutes. So I'm on standby for the next flight leaving at 11:55. A two hour delay, not too bad if I make it on.
To add insult to injury I got hit for a $125 baggage overweight fee. I then paid an additional $50 to wait in the Red Carpet Club. If I can get with Paris Hilton, then it's all worth it.
8:23 p.m.: OK -- made it to LA, pick up the van and am checked into the Le Parc hotel. Just off Melrose in West Hollywood. I'll check with the front desk if they know where Paris hangs out.
Friday, 11:10 a.m.: Day one in the books. Pick up the band, their girlfriends and the baby. Yep, I said baby, the new world of rock and roll. I'm hoping for groupies and I get goo goos. We leave for San Diego at 2 p.m. and will return to LA around midnight. No word on Paris at the moment. But I will check with the front desk for any messages.
2:14 p.m:So just got a text, the show in San Diego may be cancelled. Don't mind, it was a 3.5 hour trip each way. Now I can focus on locating Paris.
8:26 p.m.: With the show in San Diego cancelled, I rent a Porsche Boxter and drive through Mulholland Drive. I read on the internet that Paris lives off of Mulholland. No sighting to report.
Saturday, 2:47 p.m.: Took an early morning drive along Mulholland. Less traffic so I could move a little quicker. Had breakfast with my friend Lilia and her husband in Pasadena. Thanks Lilia!
P.S.: Lilia has a friend who knows where Paris has coffee on Melrose very near the hotel; she'll text me the name of the place. I feel good about this lead.
10:04 p.m.: The band wanted to go to the Museum of Contemporary Art. They tell me that Paris loves contemporary art. So we went. I was duped.
Sunday, 12:04 p.m.:: Took band last night to Sherman Oaks see the producer of their last album. Cool guy, his wife works for Rolling Stone. Takes nerves of steel to pilot the mini bus through Laurel Canyon Rd. But that's why I'm here. Heard the Starbucks on Beverly is good place for Paris sighting. On my way.
3:22 p.m.: Band slept in. I was up early so off to Malibu via Pacific Coast Highway. Brought my camera, but left battery in room. I pretty down on the Paris thing. So I am expanding to Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Megan Fox and any Kardashian girl (yes, even the not so cute one).
Monday, 8 a.m.: I was supposed to return the Porsche yesterday at 3 p.m. At about ten to three I called and told them I was keeping it a couple more days. This car is the only thing that really connects me to Paris. People say Paris is shallow and phony and what can be more phony than a rented Porsche?
8:15 a.m.: Tonight's the first show. I leave hotel and arrived on-time. I’m very professional. I have my roadie gear on. In an effort to assimilate into the world of rock and roll I made a stop at The Alley in Chicago before I traveled. I purchased black pants; black Van’s sneakers with a red lightning bolt on the side, black tee with red skull & cross bones and a black short sleeve button up shirt. I think I really looked the part. When I arrived I asked Fillip, whom I had met many times in Chicago, "How do I look?" Fillip is 6' 6", wears black and chrome boots, has tattooed eyebrows, jet black dyed hair, eye liner etc. He says I looked like a guy who went out and bought black pants and shirt. Note to self: Look for clothing receipts.
8:20 a.m.The show is very cool. The Hollywood Bowl is an iconic venue in the business. PB&J are really excited. Seeing their name on the marquee out front really gets them pumped. I watch the show from the wings, just me, my brother Chris and 3 teen girls. My brother texts me while I'm standing next to him" “Depeche Mode kids." I think I see the cook guy from Queer Eye and Billy Idol in the crowd, but probably not. At this point I’m just trying to see stars. Still no Paris.
8:30 a.m.: I remember last night someone wanted a set list. The set lists are taped to the stage floor. This was my chance, my excuse. I have a purpose. I draw a breath and walk onto the stage at the Bowl. In front of LA, Hollywood, some Billy Idol looking guy and Queer Eye dude. I walked right to center stage kneel down and liberate the set list. I looked to the audience to see if I my disguise is obvious. It's not; I was a real roadie to thousands. If only Paris could have seen me then.
8:44 a.m.:Even before Depeche Mode was finished with their first set I was taking the band back to the hotel. No after party, no VIP rooms at clubs on Sunset Strip, no groupies. I complimented the band on their performance and we parted ways. I went back to my room and admired myself in my roadie costume, backstage pass and conservatively spiky hair. Yes, I am just a guy who bought black shoe, pants and shirt. But if you didn’t know me, you would whisper, "He must be with the band."
Mike S. is a project manager in the petroleum industry and adjunct professor at Northwestern University. He's living the rock n' roll life for two weeks in La La Land and other parts West. His reality is Uptown, Chicago.
Tags: Music , Pop Culture
