It is 11:51 a.m. on Sunday morning, and I am in my seat in the media center, somewhere within the bowels of The Staples Center in downtown Los Angeles.
There are about 50 seats in here, with each spot affixed with the name of the outlet. The Los Angeles Times and the Associated Press are in the front row, along with People. I am in the row behind People, so I don't feel so bad about my placement.
When I refer to the front row, I mean the row next to an elevated stage with a white backdrop with small images of the Grammy award decorating the backdrop. It is this stage where the winners of Grammy Awards tonight will walk through immediately after winning. As we've all seen on previous awards shows, after collecting the awards onstage the winners are escorted backstage, where eventually make their way to us, where we get to ask banal questions such as "What does it feel like to win a Grammy?" and "What are you wearing?" and "Why can't you let us dirty old men get a thrill by dressing in something really revealing, reminiscent of J. Lo at the 2000 Grammys?"
It is a little funny to think that I and others flew all over the country to come to the Grammys, and we end up in a media center watching the ceremonies on TV like 99 percent of the rest of the population. I'm not complaining, because I'm not a big fan of typing when scrunched into a tiny chair somewhere in the auditorium. I'd probably rather be here, with plenty of coffee and Diet Cokes and a desk where I can type. They say they will even give us a small lunch sometime around 4.
At about 1 p.m. Pacific time, the pre-telecast ceremonies begin, streamed on the Internet, where Utah nominees like Jenny Oaks Baker (nominated for Best Pop Instrumental) and the two SUU students (nominated for Best Choral Performance) find out if they win. At around 5 p.m. Pacific time, the televised ceremony begins on CBS. Somewhere in between those ceremonies I will be hanging out in the red carpet area, visually undressing nominees. Just kidding abut that last part. Many of the dresses leave so little to the imagination that there is no need to imagine the nominees unclothed.
