How I Got Banned From the Nokia at the Elevate Film Festival
Tale of a rogue benchwarmer
An agitated woman, “The Supervisor,” strutted toward me, brandishing the same wide-brimmed hat, the same mirrored sunglasses and the same bad attitude all over her frowning face. And so the inanity continued: She ordered me down; I refused to move. We volleyed; we got nowhere.
“You’re surrounded by a thousand cameras,” she told me, not sounding any more convincing than her underling.
A thousand? C’mon. We’re not in London, for Chrissakes.
Yet.
“We’re taking your picture, and you are permanently banned from the Nokia Theatre.”
“Do what you gotta do,” I said, towering above her from my bench.
Not that I gave a shit about ever returning to the Nokia Theatre — the Greek’s really more my style, Radiohead plays the Bowl and the Smashing Pumpkins are slated to play the Gibson — but the larger implications of the overly authoritarian aggression weren’t lost on me. And while they threatened to deflate my Elevate, the love and the light shone infinitely brighter, as they always do.
Tim texted me from the after-party. I stepped down into the dwindling crowd, and walked with friends, new and old, to celebrate into the wee hours of the night with great music, dazzling people and all the water I could drink.
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