Let's just jump right in, my fingers are and MB are in sync and ready to roll.
"Dad! My legs are only half the length as yours -- wait up!" I had to scream over the crowd freaking out. Only Dad wouldn't slow down, he knew better. We had to move quickly or else we'd be ambushed by the fans and the nasty 'papa-rat-zi'. I held on tight as we made our way up the guest walkway. It wasn't your normal red-carpet path where I would just stick close to Dad's side and pray for it to be over. In true Simon Masters' style he had to make fun of the norm; so we had to travel a carpet made to look like the endless, winding, yellow-brick road in the Wizard of Oz.
"Try to keep up E!" Dad screamed back over his shoulder, "I won't lose you, don't worry."
I wasn't worried. I was amazed, shocked, thrilled you name it. We were not only walking through a sea of screaming people but the show was going on everywhere. My eyes fluttered like camcorders busy taking in all of the sights. Now that I think about it I was probably the only one there with nothing to say. The walkway was an avenue of American oddities -- like a cross between the Santa Monica Pier, the circus of Venice Beach and a Vegas hotel. I wasn't worried. I was amazed, shocked, thrilled you name it. We were not only walking through a sea of screaming people but the show was going on everywhere. My eyes fluttered like camcorders busy taking in all of the sights. Now that I think about it I was probably the only one there with nothing to say. The walkway was an avenue of American oddities -- like a cross between the Santa Monica Pier, the circus of Venice Beach and a Vegas hotel. To the left was this beer-gutted man serving chicken wings, every basket added to the saucy design of his sleeveless t-shirt and next to him was a cotton candy and caramel corn stand designed like it belonged in a cartoon. The front was shaped like a giant cloud only it wasn't white, it was neon pink and gold. As we got closer, I could see it twinkle. They must have been shooting out fake smells, because the air coming from that section smelled so good and sugary sweet that it created a pool of water in my mouth that forced me to swallow. For a second, it transported me back to the time in the third grade when we took a field trip to the candy factory. A memory of such delicious joy, that it will forever stay in my top drawer. My attention was quickly brought back in front of us where I could see these huge dudes in a ring dressed up like the professional wrestlers. They must have stolen some butter from the popcorn stand because they were so greasy they couldn't even fight. Their hands just slid off each other. They pretended to argue and there were extras acting like an audience being drawn to the act, some girls will wear anything to get noticed. Way over on the right was the game section complete with bowling and target practice. Basically, everything looked like it belonged in a cartoon, and not one made by Disney®. It seemed as if the city that those Jetsons', in the old cartoons, live in had been run through a taffy pull factory then moved to a back lot in Southern California. Even for a kid raised in Hollywood, my senses were on overload. For the first time ever, for this one night, I was stoked to be in L.A. Simon even had his 3D characters from the new movie walking around. I recognized one of them because of the movie trailers Benny and Me watched online. I didn't know his name but he was positively bizarre. He was like half man and half goat, complete with horns coming out of his head and a swishy tail. Colored like a rainbow, he galloped around playing the flute. Dad called him Pan like he knew him or something. Then again, Dad has a very keen appetite for the bizarre.
Between Dad's rushing to get to where we could be safe from the crowd and me taking in the sights, it wasn't long before my left arm was sore from being dragged and stretched. I was thankful for the chilly breeze that blew against us because the late day sun was working overtime. Dad hit it -- the long sleeve was the right thing to wear; it was a cool night in more ways than one. My sleeves were so stretched it looked like I didn't even have hands, which I thought fit in this crowd just fine. At one point I did notice that where my stretched out left arm met Dad's stretched back right arm wearing the navy jacket; it looked like one long navy blue tube connected us. Again, I thought this fit the scene just fine.
"Shwew, I think we're finally in the clear," Dad said pulling me along side of him. "I guess I should have listened to Tommy and let him come to shield us." We were in the VIP area, separated from the crazy crowd by a small velvet rope that couldn't contain a toddler. Tommy was Dad's assistant/bodyguard. He was a nice enough guy, like a big bear. Sometimes though, he could be too protective and Dad decided this night would be more fun without him.
"R.J. How are you feeling?" we could hear that the fans were not giving up even though they were contained. Dad was nice as usual; he smiled and waved.
"Hey Robert!" This guy with a huge camera came at us. "Tom Preston from Faces magazine." He stuck out his hand. "You look great, do you mind if I get a picture for next week’s issue?" He really didn't leave much of a choice; here Dad was trying to prove to the public, and me, he was back and doing well -- he couldn't really blow off the chance to have something other than a D.U.I. photo to be in the press.
"Sure," he agreed, "how 'bout me and my son, Elias?" He hugged me alongside him to pose; I gave a half smile, defeated without my bizarre sunglasses. My attention was still being consumed by the circus all around me. The rats infested and a thousand other flashes went off at us from all directions as soon as we stood still for that one picture. Then the music got super loud.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, it is your great privilege to see the one, the only, Simon Masters!" blared from the loud speakers and wrangled all of the chaos. Right in front of where we stood for the photo, a huge wall, which was covered with a poster from the movie, opened up. Confetti shot through the air like it was New Year's Eve. Then, BAM one big bang followed by a burst of firework sparkles and out came Simon in all his glory; he is so funny, just the way he waves and bows was enough to make you wet your pants. He was smaller in person than I imagined, thin too. Don't get me wrong he wasn't scrawny; somehow it worked. His out of control tomato red hair blended seamlessly with his excited red face -- this, with his bright yellow suit, orange tie and turquoise eyes, gave him all the makings of a Thanksgiving Day Leprechaun.
Everyone cheered and laughed. Simon was up on a float with the character that plays his assistant in the Normal or Dead film. There were more characters from the movie on another float behind them. It was like a mini parade and we had the best seats
right where it stopped in front of the VIP party.
"Is the experiment ready?" Simon yelled to his assistant. Who, by
the way, is just as funny looking as Simon.
"Ready professor Masters," she yelled back.
"Oh goody," he hopped off his float and ran to the one next to it, jumping up he clicked his red and yellow shoes before landing. This float was made up to look like a living room from any town, USA. "May I have everyone's attention here?" he straightened himself up and addressed the crowd. "You've met most of the featured players -- now I'd like to give you a sense of the work they will do in my film. Let me introduce you to the Hamilton family."
The Hamiltons rolled out, seated on a nasty slime-green couch. It was so scratched up from the cat and the family dog, it was furry. I call the dirty, white, noisy thing a dog just out of habit; the Hamilton dog was one of those yappy little white haired things. It never shut up and shook like a vibrating nerve bomb.
"Mr. Bill Hamilton," Simon continued, " is the manger at the classic car lot, just 2 miles east of route 41, in Kissimmee, Florida. He has been for 18 years." At this point Mr. Hamilton seemed very proud. He stuck out his already puffy chest while he nodded his head, as if to confirm what Simon was saying to be true. But when he did this, it stretched his button down shirt just a bit too much. The bottom six buttons, already under too much pressure from the pull of his enormous gut, snapped and flew in the air. One of them hit Simon smack on the front of his glasses.
"Business has kept food on the table all these years, I see Mr. Hamilton," Simon teased him, "but something tells me you're not fully satisfied." Mr. Hamilton kept his proud, blank stare through his bee-bee sized brown eyes.
"Moving on to his lovely wife of the same 18 years. Marie Hamilton is a devoted mother, a neighborhood watch volunteer and one helluva cook." Simon moved to Mrs. Hamilton's end of the ugly slime-green couch, picked up her hand and kissed it. "If he ever can't you know -- give you a lift -- here's my number." Mrs. Hamilton hid her blushing cheeks behind the hand Simon wasn't holding and fanned her face with it in the process. She looked like something right off a waffle commercial; with her khaki pants -- you know the kind that can't decide if they're long or short -- and her white sweater set. I was almost sure she didn't shop where my mom did and definitely sure she had no idea what was going on.
"I'd better move on, I'm feeling a little flushed myself." Simon already had his sights on the Hamilton's teenage daughter. "Last but not least this is their hope for the future, Tiffany Hamilton! Isn't she the sweetest thing you've ever seen? She's so sweet, I want to put her on a paper cone and spin her until she's pink and fluffy -- but my dentist won't hear of it." Simon handled Tiffany like a dog riding the first leg he could find. I think I even saw him drool. "Why don't you tell all of our friends a little bit about yourself dear?"
"Hi," as soon as Tiffany spoke everyone in the crowd raised their hands over their ears like they were doing the wave at a sporting event.
This wasn't rehearsed; it was an attempt to save our eardrums from rupturing. Her voice was so high and whiny that it created this awful, deafening feedback. "Sorry," she whined and scrunched up her round, pointy nose. Everything about her was right out of the pages of the latest teenage pop magazine. She had on these super low-rise jeans with her hot-pink lacy undies sticking out. These lacy things covered almost as much of her skin as her top did, which wasn't much and not altogether pretty, if you know what I mean. The funny thing was all of her clothes looked at least two sizes too small, and if she made the wrong move more than buttons were going to pop out.
"I'll hold the microphone, dear. Seems you got it just a little too excited." Simon got the show back on track.
"Okay, I'm a junior at Osceola high school." She wowed all the men and boys with her twangy hillbilly voice. Home Ec. is my favorite subject, you know sewin' and all so I can keep up with fashuns. I work at the Limited in the mall on weekends, you know so I can keep up with fashuns." Now Tiffany was the
proud Hamilton.
"I get the feeling keeping up with fashuns," Simon mocked her twang,
"is very important to you dear."
"Oh, yes sir, I'm fixin' to be a famous designer." Tiffany finished.
"Maybe I can be your first customer my dear, you can come by and take my measurements after the show." The crowd roared with approval.
"Okay! Here they are, the Hamiltons of Kissimmee, Florida. Let's give them a big hand." After everyone was finished with the requested applause Simon continued. "Just your normal American family -- right? Or, could it be they're dead?"
His voice got real mysterious like one of those cheesy old horror movies. "I have one more introduction to make and then you will be asked to make your conclusions after the movie presentation." With this announcement, out rolled, another float, it looked like something from outer space. The music that played along with its entry was just as spacey. Not much happened for the first few minutes. Planned tension I suppose. Everyone stood still, eyes glued on the metallic, dark grey, alien float. Simon was back on the perch that he started on, rocking forward and back in his red and yellow shoes like he was waiting for a bus. He took a look at his watch and suddenly the music became a really loud frenzy.
"This time the pleasure is all mine," Simon bellowed. "Please join me in welcoming my dear friend and creation, Fritzshisenhoffer!"
Poof a thick cloud of smoke grew from the new float and as it cleared, we all got to see Simon's 3D creation, Fritzshisenhoffer, come to life.
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