Wading in the Velvet Sea

***

6:58 pm: Starting off with Ryan Seacrest interviewing Keane over on the E! Network. The E! Network is called that, I believe, due to the fact that whenever I channel surf to this station, I see a work of plastic surgery that makes me shriek in horror.

6:59 pm: Good lord, this man gives us other Ryans a bad name. Hate this man. Good thing I tuned into the second half of the red carpet interview spectacular, since my relation to Ryan Seacrest is like that of albinos to the sun: minimal exposure, if indeed exposure is necessary, is the best course of action.

7:01 pm: Turns out the red carpet is in fact green. (Thanks to Heineken. No lie.) Gonna assume Mariah insisted that red made her look fat and wouldn’t show up unless it looked like she was walking in a mossy pond. Whatevs. Anyways, on this green carpet, we’re now seeing Jennifer Love Hewitt’s breasts…accompanied charitably by Jennifer Love Hewitt, just a few feet behind.

7:02 pm: Ryan just said, “Let’s kick it over to DJ AM!” Oh hell. This can’t bode well.

7:03 pm: DJ AM: “I’m kicking it here with my main man Rodney!” As in Rodney Crowell, Grammy-nominated folk artist. I’m skeptical this is in fact DJ AM’s main man. Rodney's look, one mixed with equal confusion and outright anger, supports my theory. “You’ve got two nominations,” DJ says. “So...what are they?” Skepticism confirmed.

7:04 pm: We’re back at the Grammys, music’s biggest night, so naturally Seacrest is interviewing…Matt Dillon. Um. OK.

7:07 pm: Been watching the parade of stars on the green carpet whilest Dillon tells me all about the boom box he had as a kid. I’m only tallying 18% on positively identifying these people. Good Lord, I feel old. Who’s that black guy in the cowboy hat? It looks like Sinbad. I know it’s not Sinbad, but there’s my cultural frame of reference at this point. Ouch.

7:10 pm: John Legend’s on the screen, and he’s rocking this amazing white suit with an open collared look. This is approximately Outfit #3,534 so far that I’ve seen tonight that would look infinitely worse if placed upon yours truly.

7:12 pm: Lee Ann Womack’s eyes are scaring the bejesus out of me. I’m waiting for them to bug out of her head and attach themselves to Seacrest’s neck and then suck out his spinal fluid. Which would, incidentally, be the highlight of this preshow, hands down.

7:15 pm: OK, I take back everything I’ve said about The Bush Administration. Clearly there’s terrorism happening on our very soil that needs to be stopped. I think Al Qaeda made off with the other half of Teri Hatcher's body weight. Good grief, when did she waste away to Mary-Kate proportions?

7:21 pm: Back from break, and Chicken of the Seacrest is interviewing Joe Perry and Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. At one point did they completely replace Perry’s blood with embalming fluid? Just creepy.

7:25 pm: Either that’s Jon Secada I just saw on the green carpet, or David Copperfield is on the Teri Hatcher diet.

7:28 pm: They just cut from Alicia Keys to Don Dokken. I’m suffering whiplash from that segue. Just stunning.

7:30 pm: Here’s Gwen Stefani, ever the fashion maven, and hubby Gavin Rossdale, ever forgetting to take his towel off from the sauna. I’m a bit perplexed by this fashion choice. I mean, that’s a damn towel around his neck, isn’t it? Even if it isn’t, I can’t be the only one at home thinking, “The dude’s wearing a freakin’ towel around his neck! And not even that tiny little towel those sadistic bastards give me at the gym, which I can’t quite tie around my waist because look, I’m 6’5’’ and naturally built large, and yet you give me this postcard-sized excuse for a towel!” Or maybe that’s only me thinking that right now.

7:32 pm: Good grief, Joss Stone TOWERS over Ryan Seacrest. This is like an Ivan Drago/Rocky Balboa height difference. I keep waiting for Joss to stop smiling and say, “I must break you.” Which would be a close second to the whole Lee Ann Womack sucking out his spinal fluid with her satanic eyes in terms of pre-show highlights.

7:43 pm: Not sure I believe in hell or not, but I have a feeling that if there is one, and it’s personalized for each and every one of us, and I go there, I’ll be in a nice quiet room with a couch and a TV, and on this TV will be pre-award show banter…for eternity. This is brutal. I’ve seen second-graders playing the role of “Rock Next to a Tree” that gave more honest performances than some of these celebrities tonight.

7:48 pm: Kayne West’s outfit. I mean, what can you say. All rappers seem to love “Scarface”, but Kanye took it up a notch and freakin’ DRESSED like Tony Montana. Unreal. The gloves are a nice touch, too. They tell me, “If I don’t get my damn Grammys, I’m gonna have to kill someone, and I prefer not to leave any fingerprints behind at the murder scene.” These might be the most famous black gloves since the OJ trial. Keep an eye on them.

7:50 pm: Pizza's arrived, and not a minute too soon. See you when Gorillaz perform.

8:00 pm: Kinda of a bold choice, leading with Gorillaz. Gotta believe half of America is tuning in and saying, “Um. I don’t get it,” and wondering why they haven't seen any new episodes of "Everybody Love Raymond" recently.

8:01 pm: Eff that half of America. I get it, and it’s great.

8:03 pm: Ha, the cartoon dude is checking his cellphone during the De La Soul rap. Absolutely brilliant.

8:05 pm: Wow, this "Feel Good Inc."/"Hung Up" mashup/segue actually works. Didn’t think it was possible, but that’s why they do what they do and I sit here in my pajamas and try to mock it.

8:06 pm: I know Madonna starts fashion trends and all, but can we make an exception with this “Xanadu” flashback look?

8:07 pm: That was the first of “26 animated performances”. That’s what Mr. Announcer man just said. Holy f#ck. I’m praying he means “13 duets”. Because my hands and wrists just threatened to walk out like the editorial board of the New York Press.

8:09 pm: Hrm. I’m liking this Stevie Wonder/Alicia Keys. Man, if this show is actually GOOD, there goes my whole commentary. Come on, Grammys, give me a Good Charlotte/Hilary Duff mashup or something, I’m dying out here.

8:14 pm: I hope they have a breathalyzer waiting in the wings for Kelly Clarkson. Hoo boy. Girl ain't breathin' so good. Come on baby, I don't wanna have to use mouth to mouth. Wait, yes I do. Shallow breaths, Kelly, that's it, shallow breaths...

8:15 pm: Here comes Coldplay. Oh goodie. A live performance is like kryptonite for Chris Martin. Let’s see how badly he mangles the falsetto.

8:16 pm: The answer? Pretty badly. Sound engineers must look upon the task of making him sound good on record as the absolutely most challenging thing they could ever do in their career. Poor Martin’s like the rock equivalent of Cher. On the brighter side, he’s definitely neck-in-neck with Lauryn Hill of the newly reunited Fugees for “Best Afro” of the night.

8:18 pm: I can't wait for Hour 15 of “24” this year. I can easily see a scene where Jack Bauer’s trying to make somebody talk, but isn’t getting anywhere, and finally says, “We don’t have time for this! Curtis, get the iPod and a copy of Coldplay’s live performance from this year’s Grammys!” That terrorist would be giving up the location of the nerve gas in under 30 seconds.

8:30 pm: Holy crap, is John Legend’s ass on fire? Someone help him! Oh. Smoke machine. Nevermind.

8:33 pm: I’m planning a follow-up to this song as we speak. Here’s Legend’s lyrics: “We’re just ordinary people/Maybe we should take it slow”. My lyrics: “Speak for yourself, John, I’m extraordinary/So if any ladies in the hizzouse wants to get bizzay, I’ll be over here in the corner with a 40 and a box of Oreos”.

8:36 pm: Good to see CBS hates country music as much as me. Nice touch, completely messing up the microphones and such during Sugarland’s performance. Where are these other voices coming from? The recording booth? A bathroom? The Dharma Initiative? I need to know.

8:37 pm: Sugarland’s front guitarist has the most adorable little guitar. It’s somehow smaller than the one provided for me on my Playstation 2 game “Guitar Hero”. Wonder if this guy points his guitar straight to the sky, it’ll make me more energized about his performance. Hell, works in "Hero", why not on the Grammys?

8:45 pm: Bono, you have to be one of the richest men on the plant. You have to be. I don't have to be your buddy Jeffrey Sachs to crunch the basic numbers here. So how come you can’t afford any conditioner for your hair? Damnit man, come on. I'm not asking much, you greasy monkey you.

8:46 pm: So like, if they secretly replaced the bass player with a robot, would anyone notice? And when I say ”anyone”, I’m including the guys in U2 as well.

8:47 pm: “Hello hello…hola! I’m in a place called…well, I don’t actually know, because of the EXCESSIVE AMOUNT OF FOG SUDDENLY SPRAYED ONSTAGE!!! THE HELL?”

8:50 pm: Great. Mary J. Blige’s voice just blew out my wireless connection. 50' Ethernet cable, here we come. Maybe I can keep a running tab of how many times I trip over this tonight. This will be fun. Grumble grumble...

8:55 pm: OK, about that earlier crack at Madonna and pleading people not to start a leotard trend in this country…I take it back. It’s actually more important that men in the country don’t start growing a Tom Hanks-esque mullet. Good lord, it’s so wrong, it’s almost right, but then again, it’s the furthest thing from right I can imagine sitting atop a man’s head short of a ferret stapled to one's receding hairline.

8:59 pm: Ben Roethlisberger is introducing Kelly Clarkson. Originally, the Grammys scheduled Matt Leinert to introduce her, then discovered Clarkson’s restraining order against him and had to get Ben as a last-minute replacement.

9:03 pm: Me: “I’m kinda crushing on Kelly right now.” The Girl: pauses “I’m OK with that.” As if I needed her permission. She’s adorable, my girlfriend. I think I'll keep her around a bit longer.

9:06 pm: If you’re wondering why I’m ignoring the actual handing out of awards…well, the show doesn’t seem to give a crap, why should I?

9:11 pm: Let’s look at Paul McCartney’s band and play the “one of these things is doing his own thing” game. Psst, look at the drummer. Looks like hard-rocking, Pantera-loving cousin of Edgar Stiles back there. Just odd.

9:14 pm: I can imagine someone tripping on acid, tuning into the Grammys right now, seeing Paul’s piano, crawling up the screen, and starting to mutter, “The piano’s talking to me…it wants me to water the fikus plants with Diet Dr. Pepper…cool, whatever you say, you’re the piano, man. Piano, man. Heh. Cool.”

9:16 pm: Whoa, “Helter Skelter”. Didn’t expect that. Farily rocking version, too. Have to say, when the show sticks with music, it’s batting close to a thousand tonight. The notable exception being the sonic assault that was Coldplay’s “Talk”. Yeesh. I'm digesting that as well as an oversized wad of Big League Chew.

9:27 pm: Whoa, I think they smelted the glittered glove Michael Jackson wore in the “Thriller” era and made Mariah Carey’s microphone out of it. Damn.

9:30 pm: Where my mind’s at: I’m not even listening to Mariah’s performance. I’m too busy yelling at Mariah’s hair stylist for giving her extensions that cover her…well, you know. I’m officially pissed. A bigger travesty than “Talk”.

9:32 pm: Ok, that was a first. Kelly Clarkson wins for “Best Pop Vocal Album” and, on the way to the stage, actually APOLOGIZES to fellow nominee Gwen Stefani. Oh, could I love this girl more? I just wanna buy her a milkshake, take her home, and snuggle while watching “Gilmore Girls”. Um, I mean take her to sports bar, get her drunk, and get to second with her in the bathroom. Yea, that's it. *grabs groin*

9:33 pm: In case Clarkson starts to hyperventilate again, EMTs have been rushed to the stage, along with an IV drip, a gurney, and those funky paddles they use to revive people when their hearts have stopped. The Grammys care, people. They really care.

9:39 pm: “We’ve secretly replaced Keith Urban’s cocaine with Folger’s Crystals…let’s see if he can tell the difference! Hrm. Apparently so. Whoa, whoa, no need to get testy, Keith. Look, Mr. Urban…just put the knife down, we can talk about this…run! Run everyone! Save yourself! Ahh! He just stabbed me in the throat! Tell my wife I love her...”

9:42 pm: You know, I can’t remember the last time I saw someone wearing pants as high as Faith Hill’s currently wearing them. Oh wait, yes I can. Last time I saw my grandfather. Right. That’s when.

9:46 pm: Next up: “Best Rap/Sung Collaboration”. Or as I like to call it, “The Nate Dogg Memorial Award”. Regulate, y'all. Regulate.

9:58 pm: Just got a text message from a friend: “Forget Angelina. I’d go barefoot for Joss Stone.” I’m nervous, because I know what she means, even though what she texted makes no real sense. But I’m pretty sure it involves two chicks doing it, and I’m generally in touch with that particular part of the cosmos.

10:02 pm: I’m learning a lot about Sly and the Family Stone during this all-star performance. For instance, Will.I.Am from the Black Eyed Peas just taught me that Sly once rapped about how he was a better dancer than MC Hammer. I did not know that.

10:05 pm: And heeeeeere’s Sly!

10:06 pm: Oooh. Little worse for wear, Sly. Kids, this is why you shouldn’t consume your body weight in drugs. You end up looking and acting like this.

10:07 pm: Sly’s the second one I’ve pulled for tonight, performance-wise. The first was Kelly (that she make it through her performance flawlessly). In this case, I’m praying Sly Stone doesn’t up and DIE ON LIVE TELEVISION.

10:14 pm: OK, I like this version of “Encore” as much as any lower-middle class Caucasian and all, but what’s up with the “American History in the Second Half of the 20th Century” montage in the background? Is this song about the rise of the military-industrial complex and no one told me? I feel so unhip.

10:15 pm: Hrm, a new melody in the piano…I know this song…aha! “Yesterday”! Nice! Makes the montage make a bit more sense now. As well as a nice tribute to Paul in the audience…

10:16 pm: Strike that, Paul onstage, harmonizing with Linkin Park! Wow. Pretty fantastic. I feared for a retread of the disastrous Diddy/Sting collaboration from the VMAs a few years back, but this performance blows that one out of the water. Even better is the look McCartney is giving Jay Z, which seems to say, “I know I should know you, vicar, but honestly, I just flew in yesterday and I haven’t been fully briefed. Cup of tea after?”

10:29 pm: Entering into (hopefully) the last hour. I think I’m bleeding from the wrists at this point. I’m glad I don’t cover every awards show. Not sure if I could put this kind of effort into, say, The Blockbuster Awards.

10:38 pm: So, does Kayne have incriminating photos of Jamie Foxx? How else to explain how he got Jamie into this outfit? Kanye I buy in it; but Jamie’s looking over with this, “My debt to you is paid in full now, bitch” look on his face.

10:39 pm: Let’s just say, with no real disrespect intended, that the Harvard school band wasn’t as cool as this one. Just wasn’t happenin’ for them. That’s OK, I’m sure they don’t mind. After all, on game days they were all drunk by noon and generally naked in the band room by 3 pm. Woe be to the person who looked through that window around 4:30 pm.

10:42 pm: Whoa. Didn’t know hot pants came in such a small size. That looks...painful. (Hey, who said I wasn't a feminist?)

10:43 pm: Didn’t buy the vibe at first, but the whole “southern campus” thing works for me now. The steppers are uniformly great. Helps that Jaime Foxx is now longer to actively trying to pick up the women onstage due to the constume change he’s probably doing backstage right now.

10:45 pm: I’m confused by the color palette used on Kanye’s new suit. I ask The Girl for color backup. “Um…I think…um…mauve. Yea, mauve.” All said like a bunch of flies just flew into her mouth as she stuck her head out the of the car window on the highway.

10:46 pm: The song ends, so naturally the camera cuts to…James Taylor, giving a standing ovation. Whew. Yea, there’s ways to get street cred, and ways not to get street cred. Safe to say this falls under the “latter” category.

strong>10:57 pm: Man, if you bought stock in “Christina Aguilera will be a respected artist while Britney Spears will be photographed holding a damn baby in her lap while driving in the early part of 2006” a few years back, I need to talk to you. I want some market tips. (Seriously, who could have seen this coming? Only Christina. And The Shadow. The Shadow knows all.)

10:59 pm: So here’s my boffo idea for a Pay Per View event: Christina Aguilera versus Scarlett Johansson in the first ever “Cleavage Bowl”. They just come out in a series of ever-revealing outfits for an hour. That’s it. That’s the whole show. How much you think I could charge for this? “As much as I damn well feel like” is the correct answer. I have a feeling another Ryan might back me up on this. No, not Under the Seacrest. This Ryan.

11:08 pm: Chuck D and Common are onstage, ostensibly to talk about the hunger problem in the world. That’s why they brought that tiny, malnourished girl onstage with them, right? What? That’s Fiona Apple? Oh. My bad.

11:11 pm: Time to give away the Grammy for “Best New Artist”, or, as I like to call it, “A One-Way Ticket To a Guaranteed Spot on ‘The Surreal Life 11’”.

11:18 pm: I think Bonnie Raitt just said, “…our last award of the night”. Really? The show’s gonna end on time? Maybe early? Unbelievable! I can finally start icing my wrists.

11:22 pm: Oops. Spoke too soon. Leave it to Recording Academy President Neil Portnow to slow this Speedy Gonzalez of an award show down to the approximately landspeed of Slowpoke Rodriguez. Good grief.

11:26 pm: He’s still speaking! Good lord! The presenters tonight didn’t get this much mic time combined! Where’s the booze? (I know it’s for a good cause and all, but if it really is about the music, Neil, let me hear some damn music!) Some people are best seen, not heard. Neil is not one of those people. he's one of those people who should be in an office somewhere bugging employees about their lack of cover sheets on their TPS reports.

11:30 pm: And they care so much about New Orleans...that they are running credits over "In the Midnight Hour". Brilliant. Way to to bring a room down, guys. Do they hire you to break up keggers in dorms, too? Like, the school sends you in, and you start talking to people about your pet salamanders, and suddenly, everyone wants to leave the party because you're annoying as hell? I bet they do.

***

Whew. Made it through, somehow. Not a bad show overall, even if the end left a bad taste in my mouth. Highlights include the opening number, the Jay Z/Link Park/Paul McCartney number, and anything involving my future mistress Kelly Clarkson. Lowlights include Coldplay, poor Sly Stone, and the last ten minutes. That's my off-the-cuff impression.

But I've said enough. Now you: what did you think? What did you like/love/hate? Leave a comment below.

And thanks for reading along...