Anthony Kiedis Ate Me Like a Grape

Yep. The Anthony Kiedis from the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Hello Red Hot Chili Peppers. I’ll be your Iowa City tour guide whether you like it or not.

While attending the University of Iowa, I joined a student group (SCOPE Productions) that was in charge of bringing music acts to our campus venues.  Not only did we book shows, we handled all aspects of the production, marketing, finance and hospitality.

Greeting the 18 wheelers at 8am for a load-in, setting up dressing rooms (meeting requests like making sure there was a pack of open cigarettes within reach of any seat in the room), dropping off tour staff laundry (NEVER look inside the bag, FYI) at the local Fluff ‘n’ Fold, restocking tour bus groceries, escorting talent wherever they wanted to go, fulfilling dietary needs of demanding artists, scheduling a masseuse, being at the ready during concerts for any during-the-show needs (I had to run a joint up to the stage once) and being a stage hand once the concert was over, assisting in the load-out of semis that would depart around 6am the following morning.

I loved it.

Mostly we’d handled semi-national acts, so it was a huge deal when SCOPE Productions landed the Red Hot Chili Peppers tour.  I was familiar with the rock group (mostly because of their socks over genitals shenanigans) and beyond excited I’d get a first hand glimpse at how true rock stars lived on the road.

Photo from thechilisource.com

This particular concert, I was assigned to the artists and dressing room set-up.  Upon completion of loading the dressing rooms with black shag rugs, endless cartons of cigarettes and what seemed like 4,000 cases of water, I came around the corner where I was greeted by Chad Smith (the RHCP drummer who has a striking resemblance to Will Ferrell) in his birthday suit who’d just been depantsed by Anthony Kiedis.

Wishing I had my sexy eye mask at this particular moment in time.

Act cool I kept telling myself as my mouth hung open to my knees.

Trying to tear my eyes away from a rock star with his pants around his ankles, I heard a soothing voice behind me say, “Welcome to the circus, Sweetie.” It was the RHCP’s personal chef, whom I would be assisting for the remainder of the day. His name was Jaime Laurita and he was big time in the celebrity catering world (he had published a cookbook, Plenty, with Sarah McLachlan I later found out) and he needed to get to a Whole Foods fast, as the Peppers were now eating organic (I had no clue WTF that meant).

At the time, I knew nothing beyond preparing ramen noodles in my hot-pot and opening a bag of Cheetos (little did I know the nearest Whole Foods was four hours away in Chicago), so I offered information that a Wal-Mart was three miles over yonder.

Idiot college kid at your disposal. Lucky Jaime.

My statement was met with a blank stare. (I wasn’t sure if it was because I suggested the worst place in America to buy groceries or because I’d used the phrase ‘over yonder’.)  I was quickly schooled by my adviser that Iowa City had a food co-op (again, WTF?!) and I took Jaime there to load up on tofu (seriously, WTF?), fresh produce and cooking oils before heading back to prepare lunch for the band.

As soon as the aroma of tofu filled the air, the RHCP dudes came calling. Trying to act like I assisted a celebrity chef in preparing food for rock stars on a daily basis (while dying inside like a 13 year-old-girl), I almost squealed out loud when Anthony Kiedis came over to ask us a question.  As I turned toward the lead singer, he stopped and s-l-o-w-l-y looked me up from the tip-top of my head down to my Dr. Martens adorned feet and back up again.

In what felt like four hours of a stare down (mostly all of 92 seconds), I remember thinking I wished I’d had a cuter outfit on. And while I can’t quite remember exactly what I was wearing, I’m sure it was something along the lines of…

Read it and weep Anthony Kiedis. Too hot for you.

Chef Jaime turned around as Anthony sauntered away and said, “Girl. He just ate you like a gah-rape.”

Years later can you imagine what I was thinking about as the Red Hot Chili Peppers head banged around at the halftime show of the Super Bowl?

Here’s a clue…it wasn’t grapes.

CBXB

How to Be Somebody

If you need a reminder of where you’re at on the food chain, try attending a fancy award show like I did for work last week.  Here’s a little tutorial in being somebody vs. anybody…

If you’re somebody, you get dropped off at the red carpet in a tricked out Chevrolet sponsored event car.

Lady Antebellum, being chauffeured to the red carpet entrance.

If you’re anybody else, you get to park two miles away, fending off a Chatty Cathy parking attendant (who also happens to be from Iowa and wants to talk your face off about it) and make your grand entrance on foot.

Finally making it to the red carpet – what did I miss?

If you’re somebody, you wait for the photographers to shout your name before appearing on the carpet.

Begging for the celebs.

Shawn Johnson, the retired Olympic gold medalist and Dancing With the Stars alum being cat called from the peanut gallery.

If you’re anybody else, you hide in this hallway while the star you’re accompanying soaks up the flash bulbs.

Where the star wranglers hunker down during red carpet photo moments. This hallway is directly behind the “stand and pose” photo wall.

Being somebody, you don’t need any announcement when you appear on the red carpet. Photographers and fans just know you and shout your name accordingly.

Lisa Marie Presley (yes, that Presley) needs no introductions (and yes, I was dying as I was snapping this photo).

When you’re anybody, your name appears in marker on a clipboard that is held up for the photographers just before you turn the corner to be photographed, ensuring people know who the hell you are.

Courtesy applause for the anybodies, please.

When you’re somebody and you’ve recently got caught stepping out on your wife, you go to the awards show with her anyway.

Jason Aldean and his very forgiving wife.

If you’re anybody else and everyone knows you’re a cheat, you stay at home and watch the awards from your couch in your pajama pants you haven’t taken off for three days, a stale beer and yesterday’s pizza, feeling very remorseful.

When you’re somebody, you know you look good and work it all the way up and down the red carpet.

Lady Antebellum’s Hillary Scott strikes a pose in a form fitted dress.

Shawn Johnson showcasing her guns (much admired by me) in a racer back gown.

Jake Owen pranced around in a leopard blazer that I wanted to rip off his shoulders and keep all to myself (therefore giving him a complex that I was stalking him because I literally took 12 pictures of him down the carpet due to his jacket).

When you’re anybody else, you blog about the perils of what to wear to work the award show.

Does this vest make me look like somebody or just anybody?!

When you’re somebody, you get interviewed live by TV stations.

Tim Allen being interviewed by Evan Farmer of CMT.

When you’re anybody else, you crouch down in the corner ninja-style, trying to stay out of the camera’s shot or you’ll be kicked off the carpet. The horror.

If you’re somebody, you have no problems finding a plus one to be your date.

Lisa Marie Presley with her hipster hubs make one handsome couple.

When you’re anybody else, you have to hang with all of the other people who are working the show.

Workin’ it with men in uniform. Poor me.

When you’re somebody, you perform on the massive stage.

2012 CMA Award show stage.

When you’re anybody else, you’re perfectly fine asking a stranger to take your picture in front of it.

Anybody want to take my picture?

When you’re somebody, your entourage follows you up on stage to get you gussied up before the live performance.

Hair, make up and wardrobe folks putting the final touches on Carrie Underwood before her performance.

If you’re anybody else,  you have to take pictures back stage to remember where the bathroom is located, so you can brush your hair and reapply lipstick.

Which way to the ladies?

When you’re somebody, you blow the roof off the joint, then head out to the after party.

Aided by the foggiest fog machine ever and blasting confetti, you would have thought it was New Year’s Eve during Carrie Underwood’s performance.

When you’re just anybody, you get to go and walk the empty red carpet before tearing it down.

Long walk to fame…

And then pose just like anybody else while no one calls your name.

Anybody gonna holla at me? Anybody?

It’s rough trying to be anybody! Wish somebody would have told me.

CBXB

Redneck Red Carpet

While I was all in a tizzy about what to wear to work the Country Music Association Awards last Thursday night, I should have been charging my phone because it unfortunately died due to me acting like I was a member of the paparazzi.

Walking up to the red carpet area, I was overly excited at the first classy thing I saw – a freaking hot dog cart.

Do you think they sell hot dogs at the Academy Awards red carpet or is it just a country staple?

I arrived at 3pm – the same time all of the D list stars were being dropped at the red carpet entrance.

The girl in the cream coat almost broke an arm trying to get an autograph from an American Idol 6th runner-up from 2006. Seriously.

Fans gathering on the red carpet four hours before the CMA Awards show began. If I had more balls, I would have snapped pictures of their snazzy outfits – some combining sequins and Crocs.

In case you stayed WAY past the start of the show (as most fanatics do), you’d need to leave your sunglasses on if you’re prone to migraines or seizures.

Moving my way around back to slide into the mover and shaker scene, I felt the same way about the rear of the red carpet as I do about my own backside…needs a bit of work.

Baby got back.

The ass of the red carpet is also where stars sneak out after they’ve had their photo taken by media and don’t want to walk down the long line of TV interviewers. I recognized as many ‘stars’ that came through the back entrance as they did me. Zero (apparently anyone can be a country singer these days. Just attach a cowboy hat to your head or wear mirrored sunglasses at night or really go out on a limb and do both).

The scene of a photog’s dream (and mine, since I was about 6 feet from all of the upcoming action. And I was extremely busy pretending this was no big deal, while having to bite my cheeks to keep from smiling too big from giddiness).

While I was busy acting like I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my surroundings, I was constantly ducking out-of-the-way for the CMT’s Katie Cook and Evan Farmer, preparing to interview all of the celebs.

After giving my thighs a squat work out from my continuous up-and-down-out-of-the-camera’s way calisthenics (and trying really hard to be nonchalant about the whole ordeal), the big stars were just about to appear in front of me.

Phone out. Camera app on. Flash off (God forbid anyone think I’m taking a picture. I may be a little white trashy but sometimes I do know when to save face).  Holding the phone out from my body just so (pretending like I can’t see the screen up close). Positioned just high enough (so it doesn’t look like I’m taking a picture).  Phone rings. Boss needs me now. Damn it!

As I disappointedly turn to walk out (I had a red carpet spot!), I hear the photographers shout, “Sugarland, over here!”

And being the classy lady that I am, whipped around and snapped a blurry picture, complete with flash on my way out. Score!

Oh, and I got a hot dog on my way to the show in case you were wondering.

CBXB