Ahhhh, I was about to travel across this country to see STARSHIP TROOPERS at the World Premiere in Hollywood. I was psyched. I was thrilled. I wondered if it were a trap. It probably was. Those Hollywood surgeons have been known to perform amazing mind surgery on unsuspecting fertile brains. Surely I was being flown there for something more than a movie.
What is about to unfold is the true story (well as true as these things get anyway) about a fat redheaded scruffy looking punk kid being given the "treatment". And here is what happened.
My trusty companion was Geek #2 (aka Glen Oliver), his purpose was to anchor me to reality. To constantly remind me of how ignorant and stupid I was, and let me keep perspective. His other mission was to not be affected by the glitz and glamour, the babes and beauties, and the rest of the stuff magic was made of.
First off, let me think Jon Davison and David Latham, who pulled the strings to get me there. It was truly an amazing adventure. And it was these two that enabled my introduction to HOLLYWOOD via gigantic parties and the premiere.
Now for the tale...
For days I had been preparing for this trip. Fretting over clothing, belly size and my irish setter hair style. How would I react to a full frontal assault of coolness dished out by the people that know how to do it? Would I succumb? Would all the money that would be pressed into my palm, sway my opinion? Unfortunately, the only money forced into the palm of my hand came from Joe Hallenbeck who was disguised as a 65 year old bag lady with 7 paparazzi cameras firmly attached to the pseudo carcass. The dollar had strange runes upon it, and I made a mental note to not be at the train station at midnight.
THE AUSTIN AIRPORT
Glen and I arrived at our local airport at 6:30 am (cst). We had about an hour wait, while we fretted about the airplane life insurance policies we signed and paid for. Then when our "death chariot" as Glen called it arrived, we began to tense up. We were flying into the den of lions (No, wait that would be MGM.) and we needed to be distracted. So we began checking out the airport stewardess babes. MAAAAAANNNNN, those uniforms are sooooooooo evil. Glen and I began reenacting Busby Berkeley's By A Waterfall via slobber drooling out of our mouths. That immaturity was our secret weapon. Hollywood would not be able to hold it's own vs. the power of inane geekness.
Finally we boarded our plane to the home of everything I love. MOVIES, BABES, BABES, and ummmmm... ...Ok, not everything, my computer and family and Threadgills and Austin were all back in Austin, but MOVIES and BABES has a major pull to it. Well we certainly were on the magical death chariot pulling the sun to California.
We were bored out of our minds. I begin reenacting scenes from 2001 with Glen's Banana, which I accidentally sat on and squished into the plane seat. Glen was then put on magazine detail, and all we could find was Latino Monthly, We Advertise Computers Monthly and Scientific American. Welllll S.A. became the focus for our beady little eyes. Cool articles on nuclear powered Fords (no not a Pinto) and Rocket Packs and other super cool inventions that stupid people thought were stupid. As a result I don't have a nuclear powered car of my very own, dagdummit!!!
It was a fairly cloudy trip, and I only got a few glimpses of Arizona, and I did wave at the Tempe Geeks. We quickly arrived in LA. We had no idea what to do. I mean, neither Glen or I have been somewhere where we were responsible for getting ourselves places without the help of mature people. So we took a ride on an escalator. Which took us out of LAX and there was a bus that said it would take us to the AVIS Car Rental place. Well, I was suppose to have a ground transport of my very own there. So we got on the bus.
As we were riding the bus around the LAX airport in LA, I got that distant look in my eye and said, "I've already been to the airport." To which Glen responded with fear of the bomb on the bus bit.
THE CAR RENTAL
We got our car and the car dude man gave us this Avis Map of LA. hahahahahahahaah, man what a piece of crap. That map was 100% worthless. How come there ain't a real map of LA at the car rental place. Seems like a prime place to be able to sell maps of the town you are in!!!
Well the cartoony hell drive begins. Can Harry and Glen get from the airport to our Hotel? Before you answer, Glen makes up turns and twists on his own, meanwhile my PERFECT instructions would never get us lost. I discovered a short cut to get us off the highway and to our hotel faster, plus take us by SONY studios. So we took it. After driving around Sony a couple of times, and contemplating storming the gates and taking over, we decided to continue to the Hotel.
Soon we found we had gone in a circle, kinda, but we were farther away than when we started. So we got back on the highway, and were going to follow the AVIS guy's instructions to the letter. Meanwhile at least 7 hardened criminal types were driving cars around us with personalized license plates like "Drk Angl" and "La Chiva" These deathmobiles had super dark window tinting and two-fisted gun turrets. We were doomed.
THE HOTEL
However, due to my brilliant navigational instructions we were able to find the hotel before leaving to return to Austin. As we enter the parking lot this guy approaches my rental car like he wants to get in it. I've never seen this person before, so Glen and I are perplexed as to what to do. I mean we had only been in LA for about 45 minutes and already there was an attempted carjacking, and at our hotel. Then the fella explained it was "V-A-L-E-T" parking. Glen and I looked at each other. Why couldn't we park our own car, we know how? Was this an insult? Well, while we decided three other people in cars did it, so we got out, and went in the hotel with our luggage and prayed our car would be there when we got back.
We registered and got to our room on the fifth floor. Room 512 (the area code of Austin, coincidence?). I couldn't get the key to work, so Glen grabbed it out of my hand and did it himself. After a few bumbling moments, the door was open. And in we walked. Pretty nice room, but at this point I don't see what was so special, except there was no TV!!! Bur there was a balcony. Glen and I anxiously rush out to the extended ledge to see what sort of view we had. Well, I think it was probably a great view. But as the sliding door peeled away the burning death of smog fumes filled my eye sockets. Hacking and coughing began. And I could see a total of a good quarter mile. Even though there was no big buildings in front of us. We could see the Nakatomi Building from DIE HARD, which sent Glen into orgasms.
First lesson, being up high and having a balcony in a town with a smog problem is not necessarily a good thing! I could feel the carcinogens entering my lungs and taking years off my life. So we retreated to the other side of the hermetically sealed environment of our room and snorted water to spit out the noxious fumes.
Then there was a knock at the front door.
A PACKAGE FROM JOE HALLENBECK...
A bellboy type was standing at my room with a big manilla envelope. What was in this? The return address said, "HALLENBECK" Uh oh... Glen was on the phone to his mother telling her that we had arrived in the two pieces that we were in when we were on the plane. Meanwhile, I begin unsealing the envelope...
Inside were two copies of the L.A. SEX NEWSPAPER, and a map to the Stars!!!
Man. Now that kicks ass!!! Everything a visitor needs, a map and sex. Cool. I begin to anxiously flip through the "sex newspaper". Soon I come to a full page FEMALE MUD WRESTLING AD!!! Now that's cool. Then there was one busty blonde that promises a full tongue massage. Cooooooooooooooooooool. I wonder if that's included with the room... Well, after ummmm reading the ummmmm articles in the L.A. Sex Newspaper, I began checking out the Map to the Stars. This was uncool. It gave the addresses, but not how to get there from our hotel!!!
Glen was trying to hold a conversation with his Mom while flipping through the Sex Paper, and was doing a pretty good job. Then I got up to see what this big damn cabinet in the room was. Ahhhhhhhh, the TV!!!! and a VCR and Wine and Tequila and Liqueurs and.. and.. M&Ms and SNICKER bars, BROWNIES!!!! Chocolate Chip Cookies!!! A Camera!!!, this rocked!!! I could get boozed up and pimply faced in no time.
Then I wanted to check out what sort of robe I would be stealing, so I went into the bathroom. WOW. There was a telephone in there, and ... In the single stupidest act I have ever seen, the extra roll of toilet paper was wrapped in wrapping paper with a bow around it. THAT IS SOOOOO LAME!!! Wrapping butt-wiping paper is retarded. There ain't no use to it. Then the towels were stored in racks INSIDE the shower area. ALSO RETARDED. Towels are suppose to be on the other side of the curtain. So... ummm... they don't... umm get wet?
Overall the room was pretty cool though.
THE PHONE CALLS
I begin to arrange the various meetings and hook ups for the day. I mean, with only 36 hours to hump it, we had to work our asses off. This was no leisure trip, I had raids to arrange, master spy meetings, and break ins to coordinate!
First we call JOE HALLENBECK, the trusty spy who broke the TITANIC screenings, BATMAN & ROBIN screenings, and got the reputation for hating everything, though really, he did like some of the films he saw. And he absolutely loved Titanic, L.A. Confidential, and Starship Troopers. Glen ran to get on the bathroom phone, and we arranged the meeting with a guy named Joe.
Then I had to call a new spy, ie the last few months, and have this one meet us at the same location as Joe. You see the plan was to hook these two master operatives up, so that they could pool resources like those cool guys from Wild Wild West. The plan was falling into place.
Then we had to set up the meetings for later in the day. Things went very well. Everything was falling into place. And then I went into the bathroom, then I heard Glen exclaim, "HARRY!!! FEMALE MUD WRESTLING!!!!!!" Uh oh. Next thing I know Glen is hatching a plan to escape the Starship Troopers party that night and capture Paul Verhoeven and Jon Davison, and make them take us to FEMALE MUD WRESTLING!!!! Glen was very excited about this. SO... Glen called up JOE, the man who could accomplish everything. I picked up the phone as Glen was saying... "Joe, will you pick us up at the party tonight and take us to the Female Mud Wrestling in LA?!?!?!?"
Joe responded with, "Wait, you guys are telling me, you want to skip out early on the super cool Starship Troopers party and go see FEMALE MUD WRESTLING?"
Glen and I say in perfect honest enthusiasm, "Ummmm, Yeah..."
"I love you guys," Joe exclaims. He says he's on his way
So Glen and I wrap some wet towels around our breathing areas and sit out on the balcony trying to guess who was Hallenbeck.
It turns out that Hallenbeck is not the 6foot 6 walking icon of cool, but looks like an oriental Tony Dow, an american indian version of Michael J Fox, a drunk version of Spiccoli mixed with a bit of Maude Adams even. He weighed between 120 to 750 pounds and was a light to dark complexioned black to white man or woman. And yes she/he was wearing a disguise. As was his/her flunky side kick that was the fifth person to pick her/him up on the way to the place. You see Hallenbeck is worried about being followed so he/she always makes at least 5 transfers of vehicles before arriving at his/her destination. But what shocked me was all the horribly ugly acne scars that ravaged his face like the record mold in Phantom of the Paradise.
We loaded up and hit the Beverly Hills Planet Hollywood. And sure enough there waiting for us was the spy with no recognition. A very good agent that is fighting the cause of good films.
We sit down at a great round table beside a gigantic TREMORS monster. Perfect. We ordered our food and began a discussion of all things secret. Those things that noone can reveal. Between Joe, his sidekick, Glen and The spy without an identity, they know about Kennedy, who Deepthroat is, and cold fusion. However, they kept toying with me. And if they revealed it I was too busy on my Bacon Double Cheesburger and fries to notice. The conversation went through all subjects. From Alien Ressurection, to how thick the insulation at Lucasfilm is?
Suddenly a stranger is poking at my shoulder. And I turn to see a "SUIT". Immediately my mind soars to thoughts of the cleaver embedded in my forehead with this "SUIT" screaming about losing his job at Warners, or some other such nonsense. However, it was merely one of those, "You're Harry Knowles aren't you?" things. Turns out the fella is some sort of exec at Burger King and does something in the Kid's Meal Toy Department. He said they were choosing between ANTZ and CURIOUS GEORGE right now. I was shocked. Here was someone who is in a position of power to choose what sort of cool toys I can get with my Whopper. Well, I definitely want ANTZ toys, so I started campaigning. Telling him how brilliant the story was, which he agreed. He was worried about the "darkness" factor. I WANTED TO CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF HIM!!! But instead, I remained calm and explained it in a rational no nonsense way. I listed the stars and the talent and the brilliant script, versus Curious George directed by Brian Levant. Ho hum. I want a Woody Allen ant action figure with a voice chip complaining about his lack of identity in the totalitarian state he is living. Not a monkey that scratches it's misshapen head. I seemed to of had him sold on ANTZ when he walked away.
The crew at the table were sort of stunned that we were just talking to the guy that chooses our toys at Burger King. I mean that is an awesome position. Did that dude choose the Nightmare Before Christmas watches? If so, kudos. Yes, we are easily impressed.
The Mighty Joe and The Spy who is unidentified began conversing about all manners of coolness. And they hooked up for and immediate mission, while the flunky sidekick of the Mighty Joe was to drive us to our hotel. Joe and the Unspy's valeted car arrived almost instantly, while the flunky sidekick's vehicle took days to arrive. And it was so dang small, I could just barely fit my bloated carcass inside of it. This sucked.
We got to the hotel and the paid carjackers again took the car. We noticed that our car, the rental car was parked in the far far faaaaaaaaaarrrrrr back corner of the parking lot hidden from the eyes of man. Man, we don't get no respect.
Glen, Me and Flunky boy head up to our room. Check our messages, and begin the process of organizing the materials for the rest of the evening. World Premiere passes, Party Passes, Maps, Instructions, Essential phone numbers, etc...
Then we had to leave flunky boy sitting in the lobby of our hotel awaiting the Mighty Joe. This is the last anyone has seen of flunky boy. It is assumed that the paid carjackers might have got him.
HOME OF AIN'T IT COOL
Our next adventure was to take us from Beverly Hills, a very surreal area of the world and into Santa Monica (I think that's how it's spelled). WHY? Well, because we had to meet with the FOX FORCE FIVE, the people that guard and maintain the multiple HAL 9000 units that store Ain't It Cool News. It was time to meet the wizards behind the curtain.
This was a looooong drive. A drive that took us past nothing familiar. We saw graffiti, posters, HOUSE OF BRICS, Giant 3 story Blockbuster Videos, a couple of prostitute looking types but they could have been relatives of Glen's ex-wife as far as we knew. It was a scary trip. We didn't know where we were going. Glen was getting more and more antsy, as the drive which shoulda been 15 minutes was turning into 40 minutes. That ain't good. We locked our doors, crossed ourselves, and wished Plissken had come along.
Finally we see the building with the correct address. There was a guard there, armed of course, razor wire, attack dogs, and anti-aircraft personnel. Our site is secure. We enter this building and sort of wander around till we sense that we have found the right door. We open it and...
We enter a technicolor dreamland. Everyone talked like they had helium voices and the fruit on their trees had chocolate on the insides. We passed Dave Cole, the infamous evil one that killed many a forumer on many a day. Scourge of several. His office had a SHAFT IN AFRICA poster on the outside, and lots and lots of toys and posters covering every inch of the inside. I felt at home here. For the first time in the whole trip, I felt at peace with myself.. Wow. This was shocking. And Dave looked like a pleasant guy, not at all the evil one that I thought he was. And he seemed giddy to meet Glen and I. It really is nice to put a three dimensional form on a typed personality.
Next we went to the MEETING ROOM. We discussed strategies and ad ideas. Concepts and problems. You could see and hear the clicking of the gears in everybody's noggins. This was what those Churchill, Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Gregory Peck and Audie Murphy meetings musta been like when fighting the war in Europe. Except for a significant drop in IQ points.
I came away from the meeting loving the chairs we sat in, I really would like to have one of them. They were so comfortable. I mean, really. They were sleek and cool. While walking down the hall to get back to our vehicle, Dave hooked up with us. He decided to walk us to our car. Turns out he had alternative plans. He wanted a picture with me. So we took several explicit nude photographs in this Santa Monica Parking Lot, and a couple of clothed ones. Wing Chun will be sooooo mad.
ON THE WAY TO THE BAY
Next we had to hook up with our contacts at Bay Films. We were going to Starship Troopers with them. You might remember Jennifer Klein from the Armageddon trip? Well, we had become friends and she wanted to take me to my first "Hollywood" Premiere. So now we were on our way there.
Sure enough we found it, and wouldn't you know it. There was the PLAYBOY symbol on the building next to it. WOW. A real life building...with the PLAYBOY symbol on it. Glen and I began losing control of bodily fluids. We touched the handle to the door, just so we could touch the psychic babe-impressions of that door. I mean seriously, can you imagine the babe factor that passed through there. I'm sort of stunned just recalling that mystical symbol. I mean I belong in that building. Glen belongs in that building. But unfortunately we are allergic to armed guards so we continued to our appointment.
We enter into the Bay Films building, and are immediately caught off guard by the gigantic were-dog-horse-monster. This 9 foot tall foaming at the mouth creature that bays at the moon at night beast was going to eat Glen and I. We wanted to run into the Playboy building for shelter. Thoughts begin crashing through my mind. A dog like this guards the entrance to hell. I know it. This monster wanted to EAT ME. He had a basketball as a CHEW-TOY for criss sakes. It looked like some sort of genetic cross between a Shetland Pony and a BOXER/PITBULL. It was HUGE. And it had one of those T-Rex roars, not a bark. Once again the backbone of jelly turned lemon in color. Death was soon. But thankfully this rather cute girl pulled the beast off the barely chewed on Glen who I had abandoned.
Turns out the dog is named MASON, and is Michael Bay's dog. Later we learned the dog was a gentle monster with a bowel problem. I meet Jennifer. Turns out she is everybit as cool as she impressed me as being. Nice, charming and cute. Yup, definately cute. My sources were right. They invite us in and show us around. We meet people left and right. Unfortunately I can't remember the names of anyone. Because well that's the way my brain works. We see everything about Armageddon, and all I will say is WOW.
Glen and I are left alone with people and talk and talk, while Jennifer takes care of business. One of the artist on Armageddon, I wish I could remember his name, gets into a fantastic conversation about the style of the film, influences. Favorite films. Empire Strikes Back comes up. SHOCK. GASP. CHOKE. Imagine someone liking that film. (HardeeHarHar)
And with typical Glen and Harry luck, it turns out that it is Kevin Cooper's birthday. Kevin also went with Jennifer, Glen and I to the premiere that night. So we have a happy birthday pie/cobbler/cake thing. We sing the "Happy Birthday" thing, and dig in. GOOD FOOD. YUM...
Mason the monster dog smells the food and comes galloping in. The dog then farts, or at least various people blamed it on the dog. I didn't fart. Personally I think it was the art guy, but Mason the monster dog was blamed. Glen was apparently aroused by the dog's mating odor and falls to the floor and allows the behemoth barker to lap at his face. The tongue is bigger than Glen's face, and was the single grossest act of doggy love I have ever seen. Glen has a wussy dog named Sparky, who would be a good chew toy for the Mason monster.
Finally everything winds down at the office and it becomes time to go to the STARSHIP TROOPERS World Premiere!!! So we load up in a fancy BMW and take off. Jennifer, Kevin, Glen and Harry. (Follow the yellow brick road....)
