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3.26.2002

Lady P at the Oscars

Well, what a night!

This year, I will be taking you backstage at the Oscars and telling you what I remember, which is precious little, I'm afraid.

Anyhow, I arrived, as I do every year, a full twenty minutes into the ceremony. I find that this allows my entrance to be witnessed by everyone. First, they are typically in the middle of the Best Documentary acceptance speech by this time, which means that the many celebrities are already bored to tears. I usually enter the auditorium with a deafening "who's drinking?" Every head turns to look at me, including the concerned person accepting the award. They look more nervous than usual for a moment and continue with their speech while I greet many past paramours.

This year, as I burst into the auditorium, I was stopped by "security guards" who needed to do a "body cavity search." Well, I used to have to pay good money for this sort of treatment, so I existed the auditorium twice more. Each time, they repeated the search. How's that for service?

I am always seated in the back, but I like to make a big deal of walking down the entire length of the auditorium "looking for my seat." In the 70's, I used to be able to get some face time on the Oscar broadcasts doing this. Alas, I haven't been friendly with the Academy since I suggested that the only way they could make the Oscars more enjoyable for a general audience was by canceling them all together.

Anyhow, who should I be sitting next to in the back row of the theater but Woody Allen. Now, I confess, I have never been Woody's type by at least thirty years (or, now, more like sixty). Never the less, I thought I would try and score some time with the great man. I grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and huskily whispered, "If you ever get tired of that Korean whore, call me, dear child."

Well, alas, Soon Yi Previn was sitting right next to him at the time. Damn me for forgetting my glasses. She shouted some phrase in some sort of bizarre language, which I later learned was Brooklyn English, and dove at me.

She was the aggressor, so it was she the guards took away. Alas, alas. Woody went running after her and missed the rest of the ceremony. Just as well - he didn't win anything.

I realized that I didn't recognize anyone else up in the immediate area, so I decided to get something to drink.

In the lobby, who should I run into, but Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith. Now, I loved Jada in Swordfish and told her so. She shot me the sourest look I have ever received from a woman named Jada. "Jada, I would kill to have those large, firm breasts of yours," I announced, reaching out to give one of them a gentle squeeze.

Well, Will didn't care for this. I had thought he would be in to a little girl on girl action, but it was not to be. Ah, how I longed for the days of the great actors like Spencer Tracy, Sidney Poittier, and Monty Clift. They wouldn't have turned down a threesome, let me tell you! I still remember a tryst I had with Spencer and Kate (as we all called Katherine Hepburn back in my day) on the set of "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner." No need to guess anymore, children. We all came.

As I wandered back into the auditorium, there was Sidney, accepting an Oscar. Well, I felt just awful. I don't know what film he won it for, or whether it was for acting, producing, or directing. Hell, with Sidney's talent it could have been for make-up design.

Let me tell you something about Sidney Poittier. Maybe you young people drool over the likes of Ryan Philipe these days, but back in my day, nobody made our pulses pound more wildly than Sidney. Those eyes. That body. That clipped style of articulation.

He was one of the most beautiful men on screen then and, looking at him on stage, I must say he has only improved with age. I felt myself getting all weak in the knees, like I did when I first met Caruso. I'm not sure exactly what he was saying - I think he was thanking some dead people - but I experienced such a tremendous climax that I screamed in ecstasy and then passed out in the middle of the auditorium.

When I returned to my sense, I was in a large, warehouse like area surrounded by people walking on their hands and rolling around in cages. I figured that I had finally arrived in hell, but learned that these were just (ahem) circus people. Standing over me was Donald Sutherland, a gentleman if ever there was one, and some girlish man named Glenn.

Donald asked if I was all right, but all I could blurt out in reply was "are you real?"

Donald and this horrible Glen person laughed and said, "you're the second person to ask us that!"

I was a little taken aback at their laughter at first, until I realized I was sharing a cot with John Nash, subject of the movie A Beautiful Mind. He had apparently had the same reaction I did to Sidney, but they were just leading him back to the auditorium.

I had had enough of Oscar night, so I stayed backstage with my new friends from Cirque du Soleil and showed them some tricks I learned at a circus in Bangkok. Ah, if ever there was a more appropriately named city on the planet, I have yet to see it!

That's it from the Oscars! Have a nightcap on me!

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