I only took four pictures . . . here they are, with commentary . . .
What you don't see: Just to Mr. Bradbury's right is a hot dog and fries. (He likes relish.)
This fuzzy person is Valerie Bertinelli just after her talk about her book, Losing It. The woman on the right who looks like she's going to Lose It and conk somebody on the head with the microphone is Amy Something-Or-Other -- she was the one who did the interview with Valerie. Maybe she was upset because no one remembered her name.
By the way, I am standing in the press pit with my cell phone camera. My media colleagues were impressed.
This is Val again (we're on a first-name basis) and by now she has shed her fuzz. That, or I'm getting better at this photography thing. She is chatting with Isabella about their favorite Van Halen concert. Valerie thought Dallas, 1982 was the best; Izzie chose Los Angeles 1984 because that was the only VH concert she still somewhat remembered.
Izzie sat in on talks with her bud Val, California first lady Maria Shriver, baseball great Steve Garvey, and some guy from ESPN she doesn't know (and still can't remember his name) but he was on "Dancing With The Stars" so that made it okay. These talks were all outside where the temperature was between 98 and hell. The talks I attended were in air conditioned splendor with people you never heard of. Guess which of us ended up in the better mood.
(Okay, I fibbed about the talks being with people you've never heard of . . . I'm sure Peter Robinson, Stuart Woods, Stephen J. Cannell, Christopher Rice, April Smith, the Doodlebops, Dick Lochte, Michael Connelly*, Walter Mosely*, Robert Crais*, Harlen Coben*, Joseph Wambaugh*, Denise Hamilton all ring a bell.) (I threw the Doodlebops in there to make sure you're paying attention.) (Didn't actually see the authors marked *, but it wasn't for lack of trying.) (If anyone dares think I'm simply a name-dropper, I left off Leonard Maltin, Mary Higgins Clark, TC Boyle, Mike Farrell, Cheech Marin, Jane Smiley, Marlee Matlin, Gay Talese, and, of course, Henry Winkler. That would have been name-dropping!)
We finished up by seeing Julie Andrews at Royce Hall, where it was well-lit and temperature-controlled. I would have taken pictures of Julie, except we were in the middle of the hall, and she looked like an ant in a lovely sea foam green dress. Julie taught us some dance moves, said Robert Goulet had wonderful legs, Walt Disney had twinkly eyes, and Rex Harrison had flatulence issues. I am not making that up. I would never slander a dead movie star legend unless Mary Poppins slandered them first. Besides, I always thought Robert Goulet's mustache was more fascinating than his legs, but that's just me.
If you've ever been to UCLA, you know they built it on a series of mountains. They call them "hills" but once you're done climbing them, you feel like you need an award and a mention on NBC Nightly News. (Add to this the blow-torch effects of the sun, and it's amazing we didn't end up on NBC Nightly News for a completely different reason.) The odd thing is they put the parking lots at the bottom of the "hills" so by the time you get anywhere, you're too tired to do anything and want to go home. I collapsed next to a long-distance runner training for the China Olympics. (They had a special collapsing area, sponsored by Borders. As you lay on the ground, trying to catch your breath, perky red-shirted Borders employees passed out 20% off coupons.) At least getting back to the car was relatively easier since tumbling down the hills is less difficult than going up them, though the grass burns and twisted ankles tend to take all the fun out of it.
I'm off to do laundry. Grass stains are such a pain.
-- Eric / http://www.ericdalen.com/
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