Cleaving Las Vegas - continued

When Maria was done with Kathy Griffin, Clay climbed the stairs to Kathy, gave her a big hug and talked with her for a moment. He looked pleased to see her and they seemed very friendly. Then Kathy stepped down, and Clay talked to Maria for a moment before helping Faye up the stairs and introducing her to Maria.  As Faye stepped up onto the platform, the fans screamed Clay's name.  He turned to wave and he and Faye both smiled at the crowd.  I would learn later, to my chagrin, that the harsh interview lights lit Clay's face up like a klieg light, so my photos are blurry and washed-out.

Clay meets Maria and introduces Faye.

The fans scream for him, and Clay and Faye turn to look.
Clay puts his arm on his mother's shoulder and continues the interview.

I was trying to watch and take pictures over my head at the same time. Clay talked with Maria for a couple of minutes.  After about 30 seconds, Faye stepped forward and blocked my view of Clay for the rest of the interview. Move, Mama-San! But it was not to be. So I have lots of pictures of the top of Clay's head over the top of Faye's head.
 

They leave the ET platform and start the round of red carpet interviews.

Finally they turned away from Maria.  Clay put out his hand to help his mother off the platform, and they moved over to the line of interviewers and papparazzi at the barricades. I took a few butt shots. Did I mention he was gorgeous? 

After Clay was out of camera range, I fought my way out of the crowd and started to re-enter the building just before 4 pm. Security stopped me because of my camera. "But," I said, "my room is inside; how do I get back in to take the camera to the room?" At that moment my DH appears from who-knows-where, takes the camera, says he has it covered and arranges to meet me inside. My white knight. So I go into the lobby area outside the Garden Arena. I call Churchmouse to report; she's in her car driving to the grocery! So I give quick reports to freethinker and Nova. This stuff was too good not to share! 

I entered the outer arena area and bumped into nlpayne and hubby; DH returned shortly and we stood around watching the silicone bounce by. The dress code ran the gamut from Met opening to grunge rave. It was very educational. We looked very square. A gander at the seating told us we would spend the evening in hard plastic buckets, so we were in no hurry to go in; but finally it was time to be seated. It turned out we were in the third row of the back section directly facing the stage, but we were pretty far away, so binoculars were a must. Also the tech booth was directly in front of us and occasionally the camera crane would block my view, but it never stayed still for long. We could read the teleprompters and watch the monitors all night. 

The show really was being broadcast live, so it started right on time. There were many, many empty seats, but by the end of the first half-hour people had moved from bad seats into better ones and there were no more gaps in the lower sections. The floor section was filled with pretty, hip-looking people; they must have had to pass a screen test. I was surprised at the starkness of the room; this is Vegas, after all, but apparently the Garden Arena is just that - an arena for boxing matches and the like. 

The filmed opening bit with Ryan Seacrest entering the hotel and being attacked by American Idol wannabes was shown on the jumbo screens. Then I heard Ryan's voice, and then Clay's! But I couldn't find them! My DH finally pointed them out, they were in the right-hand aisle down by the stage facing away from us, you could spot them by the portable light shining in their faces. They finished their bit and hugged. I watched Clay take his power-seat at the far right end of the right-center floor section, next to Faye. EEEEEEE! I could watch the back of his head all evening! 

Which, of course, I proceeded to do. He and Faye were attentive thru all the acts, although I thought perhaps he was looking away a little during some of Pink's final writhing acrobatics. Maybe her pants were slipping just a bit low for his taste. I watched the cameraman get right in his face a couple of times, and at the commercial breaks the techies and security people and various hangers-on swarmed past him and around him - his seat on the end was in a very busy traffic pattern. Fans came up to him during every break. I felt a bit sorry for him; no peace and quiet for the Rock Star. 

The music (using the term loosely) was incredibly loud. DH and I wore earplugs for the whole thing except during Clay's performance. I didn't know how terribly off-key Gwen Stefani was until I watched the tape later, guess the earplugs worked pretty well. I thought Foo Fighters were going to blow up the entire stage. Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey AGAIN? Please God, what did I do to deserve this? 

The show was incredibly bad and the presenters were all idiots who could barely read their lines. Ryan did a journeyman's job of keeping it moving, he brought most of the energy to the proceedings.  Mr. Spot kept looking at me like, WTF are we DOING here? The bit with Triumph the Insult Dog was excruciating and went on forever. He wasn't funny and the audience didn't laugh. During the worst bits he got boos or just stunned disbelief. I was squirming for Clay and Faye. Well, actually I felt that way thru the whole show. 

Sting was the class act of the evening. Clay was on his feet immediately at the end of Sting's number. He was pretty much alone, very few other people near him stood. He stayed standing and applauding well past the "polite" requirement, obviously he knows the good stuff from the bad. Sting's fantastic acceptance speech seemed almost directed at Clay: "Music is its own reward". 

Five minutes into the second hour, a scary rapper-looking dude wearing a headband came over to Clay and took him backstage. This guy put his ARM around Clay! Kill! Maim! So now I had nothing to watch. A big security guard sat in Clay's seat. Poor Faye, there she was on her own, surrounded by strangers. Very STRANGE strangers. It was another 40 minutes before Clay came on to perform. I can't remember much about this part of the show, other than Nicole Richie's unbleeped profanity. We got to watch Ryan do the bit with the flashlight in his face, he was right below us at the teleprompter. 

Sometime during the show I got to know some of the women around us. They were very obvious Clay fans and turned out to be Bolters. One told me they had been on the phone to MixNJude during a break. 

Finally - Clay. We had seen the band set up during a break and even heard the first chords of Invisible a couple of times from the speakers, which brought shrieks from the audience. Gradually the band assembled. I didn't see Clay come out, but suddenly I realized he was in place in the dark behind the mic stand, shifting from one foot to the other, fidgeting, waiting. Then Kathy Griffin was introduced and came down the stairs. I thought her introduction was hilarious, she was having to yell to be heard over the shrieking and laughing. This audience could definitely relate to Clay the Sex God!  Clay was absolutely dying during her intro - shaking his head in disbelief, hanging his head, covering his face with his hands, holding onto the mic stand, quivering with laughter. By the time she finished he was literally doubled over. I couldn't imagine how he would recover and sing, but the band hit the first chord, he stood up straight, and as the lights came up he was perfectly composed and opened his mouth to sing "What-cha". Unbelievable. 

His performance was sort of a lower-key Leno version, a lot of the same moves but not as high-energy. I watched him thru binoculars the whole time so I didn't see what they were showing on the monitor until later. You really need to be able to see whole-body Clay when he's performing, the tight camera shots just don't do it justice. At one point he grabbed the bottom left side of his jacket and flashed us, jerking it UP instead of open. Very funny-looking. Left-leg-shaking (is this the pee-pee dance?). Squiggly feet side-stepping. He sounded fine live, lots of Growly!Clay! If he was sick he didn't show it. After he finished and returned from "The Singing Zone", he stood and grinned basked in the cheers for a moment . 

Kathy Griffin gave him just enough time, then introduced him as the award winner for the best-selling single of the year, and he turned and walked up to her at the podium and gave her a kiss. We couldn't hear what he said to her, saw later on the tape that he said "Not too bad". I'm still not sure if that referred to her intro or his own performance. He made his speech, very cute thanking Roger his publicist twice, and then he was gone. 

DH and I decided to make our way out of the arena at this time. I hung back at the top of the stairs just long enough to see Celine Dion come down, and then I retreated to the lobby. We had seen the horse-drawn carriage being put in place, but we opted not to wait for R Kelly's extravaganza. Our Prince had already departed sans carriage. 

The PRoC reassembled at Wolfgang Puck's for a post-show autopsy, where much drinking and EEEEEing ensued. Mr. Spot and nlpayne's DH talked computers and networks and email. ncgurrl, Permaswooned, artquest and I retired to one of the rooms for a proper end of the evening, while my DH fled to the sanctuary of the crap tables. (Yes, he did win some money.) 

We drank champagne and ate dessert and scared Omar the room service waiter. We Gaaahhed and Guhhhhed at the latest Waldo picture. We designed a whole new shuttle just for Kelly. We wrote our Clackhouse review. And finally, we parted, both sad and happy, and vowed to do it all again soon. California ProC RULES!!