Grammytical

3/1/1996 

I like to dress up and have a good time.

Is that line from a song?  Or is it just a state of mind during Grammy week in Los Angeles?

With all due respect to New York, there’s no business like show business in Los Angeles.

Besides, we’re feeling pretty good about ourselves right now.  Magic is back, the Lakers are making a run and it’s Showtime again at the Forum.  The Dodgers are talking the talk as they prepare to win their division.  Disney bought the Angels, so they’re bound to improve.  We don’t have a professional football franchise, so we’re able to see the best games on television.  We haven’t had a really good mud slide in over a year, no fires to speak of and not a measurable earthquake (that’s anything over a 4.0 for those of us who live here) since 1994.  Housing prices are moving up and O.J. hasn’t called a local radio station in over a week.

It’s Grammy week.

I love L.A.

And I especially love L.A. during Grammy week. It’s the one time of the year in this entertainment town that the record and radio businesses gets to pretend we’re more important than the motion picture industry.  In the long run, we fail, of course, but for one brief moment in time we can ask the question: “Did you do it for love…did you do it for money…did you do it for spite…or did you have to, honey?”  (That’s an oblique reference to The Eagles, for those of you who are a little slow.)  And just in case you’re wondering, I always do it for spite.

Those of you who live in New York don’t quite understand us out here on the Left Coast.  See, we don’t dress up a lot.  You people will squeeze into a tuxedo or evening dress at the drop of an invitation.  Not so us.  It’s got to be special. 

And the Grammys are special.

It’s not just the Grammy presentation.  It’s the total experience.  Like going to a state fair, it’s fun to see the main tent, but the sideshows supply the real action.

And a sate fair doesn’t hold a candle to Los Angeles during Grammy week.  You think you’ve seen the world’s fattest man, the tattooed lady, the piercing Queen, the transvestites, the sword swallowers, the fire-eaters, the freaks, the jugglers and clowns that all did tricks for you?  Honey, come down to Hollywood.  You ain’t seen nothing yet!

The action begins long before Grammy week.  Things begin to get tense when the invitations are sent out.  God forbid if you aren’t invited to one of the parties.  It’s a social faux pas worse than brown shoes with a tux.  It starts when one of your colleagues asks if you’ve gotten an invitation to a certain party.  If you haven’t, the politicking begins in earnest.  You start by calling everyone you know at the company, wondering why you haven’t received your invitation.  They, of course, lie and say they’re sure you’re on the list.  The invitation must be the mail.

You, of course, don’t believe them for a second.  So you begin asking others with more juice to help you out.  They, of course, lie and tell you they’ll get right on it.  You’re left out in the cold.

But, if you’re smart, you can scam your way in.  Just find out others who are invited to the parties you want to attend.  Leave the awards early and stop by the party.  Use their name.  The people checking the lists are not heavy enough to garner an invite themselves, hence, they have no idea what the real person looks like.  You’re never asked for an I.D. And no one is really hurt.  When the “real” people get there, they can prove who they are by showing an I.D.  They’ll get in (after a hassle) and you’ll already be drinking champagne at the bar.

Next to arrive are your actual Grammy tickets.  You quickly break open the envelope and check your seating.  The tickets probably suck.  But it’s hard to bitch.  They’re supplied by a record company.  (Does anybody other than record companies actually pay for these things?)  If you were at a major market last year, and this year you’re in a smaller city, look for your tickets to be further from the stage.  If you’re in radio and you get your tickets early, you’ve got a chance at moving closer.  It depends on the records you add.  Hold out for the prime locations.

The first party is the biggest record company party of the year.  It’s Clive’s party at the Beverly Hills Hotel.  You haven’t truly arrived until you’re invited to Clive’s party.  And trying to get an invitation is almost impossible.  You’ve got a better shot at front-row Grammy tickets than getting on Clive’s list.

Clive’s party happens the night before the Grammys.  Appropriate.  Most believe it’s more important.  And it’s Black Tie.  Now the Grammys are Black Tie as well, but Black Tie in L.A. means anything from a tux to spangled denim jackets with cowboy boots and spurs.  Not so with Clive’s invitation.  Better have the tux or be ready to get embarrassed.

Then we finally get to the Grammys.  The most important part of the Grammys is your arrival.  You must, of course, have a limo.  Anything less is of the lowest order…or either ultra-cool.  You have to be pretty confident of yourself to pull up in your own car.  Since almost nobody in our business has that confidence, the only people who drive their own cars are those who can’t afford a limo.  Take out a loan.  In this town, the bank will understand.

After you get inside the Shrine Auditorium, you must locate your seat.  This is very important because you must determine who has better seats than you.  That’s the only real reason for going to the awards.  You must be able to silently gloat about having better seats than your rivals or smilingly seethe over seating you deem inappropriate.  You’ll do both.  There are enough people over you and under you to have you completely confused.

Veteran Grammy-goers leave their seats right after the opening ceremony.  The lobby provides the perfect setting for the ultimate schmooze-fest.  There you can brush against the titans of your industry and they can pretend they think you’re important…if only until someone more important enters their peripheral.

And don’t forget to leave the ceremonies early.  You have to clear out before the people you’re impersonating later.  It’s the only way you’ll get into the parties.