The 2006 Grammy Awards Story

A the time of writing this article, I was employed by one of the biggest music companies in the world. I was a Vice President in the Human Resources Department. I’ve been in Human Resources since I graduated from college, and I’ve worked in the Entertainment and Automobile Industries for most of that time.

My feelings about the Grammys were a real roller coaster. When I was invited, I wasn’t excited. I had been once before, and I’ve been to many “Hollywood” celebrations throughout my working career. Then as the date got closer, I thought that it would be fun and I started looking forward to it. I was going by myself. My wife was at a convention, and she wasn’t invited anyway. At my company, people at my level are given only one ticket and it's considered a business event.

They didn’t pass out tickets until the night before; and when I got mine and looked up the location on the Staples Center seating chart, I found that I had just about the worst seat imaginable. It was up on the third level, far, far away from the stage and just a couple of rows away from the highest row. Boy, I was really disappointed. I pictured myself, a middle-aged bald man, all dressed up in a tuxedo, sitting in the rafters next to a screaming girl scout troupe.

I still keep in contact with my old boss from one of the big Hollywood movie studios; and I had written several e-mails to him before the event, bragging about how I was going to the Grammy's and to my company's big after party. Then, on the day of the Grammy's I had to write to him confessing that I had a terrible ticket. I was really embarrassed, but that’s what I get for bragging. That afternoon, I went home, sadly changed into my tuxedo, and drove over to Staples Center.

When I arrived at the Staples Center, I met up with a co-worker, and we went up to our seats. I stepped through the tunnel and immediately froze. It was so high up, and so steep that I felt like I was dangling on the edge of a twenty-story building. So I told her to go ahead and sit down because I had to go to the bathroom. I immediately went to the elevator and took it down to the main floor. I walked around for about 10 minutes not knowing what to do next. There was no way I was going to sit up there. I could see through the lower level tunnels that there were open seats, but each tunnel was heavily guarded and everyone was being checked for tickets.

And then it happened….One minute before the show began, a frantic young production assistant was leading a line of ten people through one of the tunnels, telling them to hurry. I knew that they must be seat fillers, so I followed the last person in the line. As I walked through the tunnel, a guard stopped me; but I looked up at him and innocently said, “I’m with them.” He said, “Where’s your seat filler I.D. on your lapel?” I said very innocently, “She didn’t give one to me." He let me through, and I followed the line down to the arena floor. The frantic assistant pointed to an open seat in a prime area and said “Sit there."  So I sat there for the rest of the night and thoroughly enjoyed the three and a half-hour show. Because I didn’t have a seat filler I.D. on my lapel, I was assumed to be one of the elite record executives and I was never asked to move. I was even on TV for a brief two seconds during Coldplay’s second act performance.

I felt just like James Bond. You know…because I got myself into a highly restricted area while wearing a full tuxedo….I felt so much like him that I wanted to try his some of his famous Goldfinger lines on Mariah Carey, who walked by me several times; but I decided not to push my good luck.

After the presentation for Album of the Year near the end of the show, I discreetly took my leave and went over to the after party. The two pictures below were taken there.

So, all in all with a little creative thinking the night turned out to be a successful one. I celebrated at the after party with a martini….Which, of course, was shaken…not stirred.