"One of those LA nights when the stars come out..."
I don't think Chris Stapleton meant the Hollywood starlets we place on pedestals, but for the sake of today's blog we are going with he did mean them.
Saturday night I headed down to LA to see Shooter Jennings (son of the great Waylon) and his band at the Viper Room. You know that hardcore drug filled club where River Phoenix died? Let's just say I didn't notice a plethora of drugs nor a shrine to River, but I did notice a lot of other interesting things. I even ended up with Shooter's half empty bottle of Jack, but we will get there.
My entire life I have never really thought of celebrities as elite. I mean they are just people and they are people that us simpletons build up to something amazing. The truth is, they are famous because WE made them famous and the are wealthy because WE made them wealthy by supporting their dreams. It's a cynical view, but it is true. They are eccentric artists and we support that so I don't feel like I owe a celebrity a damn thing. I have come to the conclusion I don't really get star struck. Instead I feel sad for them that they cannot enjoy an evening in anonymity without people rushing them and begging for this or that. Then of course there are the celebrities that eat it up (Ahem, Ron Jeremy I am talking to you and your disgusting airs).
Anyways, back to the Viper Room. It was packed and hot and sweaty. Pretty much a nightmare for me, but I wasn't leaving my place at the front of the stage. You see I have waited about 10 years to see Shooter live. Mostly I have waited that long, because no one I ever talked to even knew who Shooter was and were so not interested. When a friend said she had a ticket I jumped to take it. Finally someone knew who this band was and we were going to have the best time.
Part of the reason it was so great is that one of the other girls that went used to be involved somehow with the band. She knew the guys which meant introductions for the rest of us. I have to admit it was refreshing to see these guys who are self proclaimed "outlaw country" talk about their families and show pictures of their babies and tell stories of being home after being on the road for so long. These guys weren't snorting lines of coke with half clad bimbos. These were normal guys who just happened to be semi rock stars.
That isn't to say they have never had those nights, but Saturday night was definitely not one of those nights for them. Maybe it was because they were back home or perhaps it was because they have moved on from those days. I don't know, but it was awesome to hang out and talk to these guys. As the night wrapped up and the Viper room was emptied, my group of girls was handed the remaining bottle of Jack because it "would have been a waste" to leave it. That will be my trophy for a great night in which I met some super awesome people that I will probably never talk to again.
For me, standing in the Viper Room and thinking over the countless nights those walls have witnessed was the most amazing part to me, not the status of celebrity some of the people have. Yes I met them, yes I rubbed elbows, but there were no pictures no "I love this" or "I love that".
It was just one of those LA nights.