Posted by admin | Posted in Famous Media, mainstream media, Political comedy, White House, White House press corps | Posted on 30-04-2006
It’s Sunday afternoon and the White House Correspondents Association Dinner just concluded. No seriously, it’s still going on. No seriously, they’re only up to Best Supporting Actress. No seriously, and you thought the Six Day War went long.
Stephen Colbert is being roundly panned for his mean-spirited performance. He was big on edge, short on rib-tickling. And the audience? A tough crowd reacting with embarrasment and silence. From my table I counted three rounds of infectious yawns spreading around the room like the wave at football games. It’s gotta be tough to hear silence when telling rat-a-tat jokes in front of 3,000 people. Imagine singing the Spanish Star Spangled Banner to the Minutemen. Even worse, these were mostly drunk reporters — normally an easy mark. Colbert’s editorial act quickly sobered folks up like an unwelcome buzz kill, like a newspaper’s retirement buyout offer was rescinded. (By the way, cheers to Fox News for good-naturedly running the clip of Colbert mocking Fox News for presenting both sides of the issue — the President’s side and the Vice President’s side.)
Meanwhile, Extreme Mortman was Extremely proud to have a better seat than Def Jam rapper Ludacris, who sat one table behind me. To be fair, throughout the night Ludacris had many more people asking for his autograph and photo than I, who had none. Ludacris did provide me one fascinating scene to watch. When the dinner ended, the crowd stampeded the exits like a massive hostage release. I was one of the first to make it to the Washington Hilton’s lower entranceway. But I and others were blocked by security who said no one could leave through those doors until the President was out the building. As I began the trek to the upper level doors, Ludacris walked right by. He was spotted by one of the security agents, who called out “Chris!” The security guy left his post to personally escort Ludacris to a place he could quietly and immediately exit — off the Hilton’s massive back patio over an iron gate. I followed and watched Ludacris’ entourage scale that fence. Thanks to the Ludacris-friendly security guy they all probably saved a whole 90 seconds of wait time.
In my next life, I’d like to be a rap artist. Quicker getaways, with beefy escorts, too. Something Stephen Colbert might have needed.