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A Night on the Red Carpet
At the Hollywood
premier of "Driven," a movie about going fast.
Perhaps I should have been a race car
driver.
A daredevil with a firesuit. A rebel with a corporate sponsor.
After all, I realize the key winning races is not flat-out speed but
the ability to be smooth and consistent. And you should see me pull
up to a gas pump – right on the mark every time!
I can certainly change gears quickly, a talent I proved in the past
few weeks as I made my way to Las Vegas, San Diego and Hollywood, with
the Toyota
Grand Prix of Long Beach sandwiched in between like cars
at a hairpin turn on a street course.
Whether or not these attributes would help me beat Paul Tracy to the
first turn at Long Beach is not at issue. Llet's seem him outpace a
throng of thirsty patrons to be the first to get a drink at a crowded
bar! What is important here is the ability to adapt to changing environments
and still enjoy the benefits of each. For a driver, it's the skill of
performing well on different types of tracks. For Bartender-types, it's
the knack of being in different places and appreciating them all.
Let's take Las Vegas, for example. It's an emotional overdose of lighted,
neon and colorful video billboards, each promoting a different entertainer,
show or attraction. Even if I had enough money to take in everything,
it would be months before I could get to them all. By that time, the
acts would all be changed and the cycle would start all over again.
Talk about a Black Hole of entertainment. I think I'll just stick to
the bars.
Sly Stallone on
the red carpet prior to asking The Bartender about Hollywood's hot spots.
A similar scene can be found in Hollywood, although the glitz is inside
instead of outside. Where in Vegas one must practically duck to avoid
being hit by signage, in Hollywood it takes a walking Thomas Guide (L.A.'s
road map) to find the right street or alley where a particular nightclub
is located. There seems to be valor in discretion. Hollywood is as dark
as Vegas is bright, but both offer a feeling of belonging to a somewhat
exclusive social set.
Fitting for my racing ambitions, I was in Hollywood for the premier
of the movie "Driven." It's all about driving race cars –
the speed, the action, the girls, even the wrecks – and stars Sylvester
Stallone and Burt Reynolds, plus Cristian de La Fuente (whom
the girls find mightily handsome and who brought along his mother instead
of some blonde mantelpiece) competing for a world championship in CART-style
open-wheel racing. The flaks at Warner Bros. told me that leading lady
Estella Warren was recently named one of the most desirable women
in the world, although I see better looking girls rollerblading every
day in Manhattan Beach.
At any rate, as I walked down the red carpet with the flash bulbs of
the paparazzi exploding like Jiffy Pop, (not at me, mind you) I realized
how this scene differed from the previous week at a real racing event,
the Long Beach Grand Prix.
The fact that I was "driven" out of Driven because by the
time I got around to finding a seat there were none left bothered me
not at all (why there are more tickets to a premier than there are seats
is beyond The Bartender's comprehension). Fortunately, a persistent
organizer from CART made sure our group made it into the afterglow VIP
party in the Sunset Room. The Bartender is always much more at home
in a bar than a movie theater anyway.
I'm also at home at the Grand Prix. I've always had a thing for social
sporting events where parties pop up like champagne corks. A personal
favorite is the Heritage Classic PGA golf event on Hilton Head Island,
S.C., where people debut their new spring wardrobes and cruise the course
looking for people to join them in the Quarterdeck bar. Man, have I
had some good times in the Quarterdeck!
At the Sunset Room with CART driver Michel Jourdain, Jr. of Team Herdez.
The Grand Prix offers the same time of entertainment. It's a 27-year
tradition and while the dramatic on-track exploits of Mario Andretti,
Al Unser, Jr., Emerson Fittipaldi, Alex Zanardi and others keeps
enthusiastic race fans on the edges of their seats, the social action
is just as strong at The Yard House, at the beer stands and on adjacent
Pine Ave.
Finally, I shift gears to San Diego. It's much like my home of Manhattan
Beach, which means it's populated with young, casual partiers. I fit
in here like a pair of racing gloves. There's a place called the Cass
Street Bar & Grill, which has a huge fish on the wall and is as
great a place as any to grab a casual drink. Locals love it, and so
does The Bartender.
The really awesome spot is Thruster's, somewhat of a secret bar located
next to a liquor store. There are many other spots, too, all within
convenient walking distance. (I was there on a research mission so no
fear, we'll soon give you the goods on all the great spots in San Diego.)
For now, I'm back on my home beach but other adventures will soon be
calling. No matter where they take me, it will be a red carpet ride.
The Bartender can be reached at bartender@pubclub.com
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