When You're Strange

Inside the Queer Lounge


It's the Sundance Film Festival and I am to promote the movie, "When You're Strange." Not only do I know nothing of The Doors other than the fact that Jim Morrison has died, but I'm supposed to be telling people the specifics of the documentary and openly discuss the controversial issues of the late 60's. I do some quick research on youtube.com to update my "Door IQ." I'm quickly reminded what a troubled and derranged individual Mr. Morrison is.

I bundle up like an eskimo and sweat in the car while driving to Park City. Upon arrival, I notice that I must park over a mile away from where I'm working. I put posters, tape, buttons, postcards, staple gun, hot tea, camera, cell phone and the idea of a desk job in my bag and start hoofing it up to the Main Street area. When I arrive, I'm sweaty, yet strangely frozen. A wonderful sensation. The crowds are absolutely insane and I immediately feel underdressed. Apparently I forgot my fur coat and Chanel sunglasses which cover my entire face so that nobody can see that I'm a celebrity. Nothing says "sundance!" like high heels on icy streets.

So there I am, for five days....freezing, handing out crap and pretending that I think Jim Morrison is hot. I am informed that if I get tired, I can hang out in the "Queer Lounge." I snub the idea at first, but as soon as my toes are numb, I look into it. The heavy doors are ornate and intricate. Upon entering, I am instantly greeted and directed upstairs. To my surprise, there is free coffee, tea, cookies and pomegranate juice. The decor is like I imagine the playboy mansion to be. (Not that I sit around imagining what that looks like, but if I did, it'd be the Queer Lounge.) I sip a hot beverage and mingle a bit. Those cookies were great, too. "These queers know what's up," I thought. After the refreshment, I head back out into the cold. The crowds are even crazier now. I over hear someone mention it's because Johnny Dep is in the area. Not only did I find Pirates of the Caribbean to not be the least bit amusing, but I'm also running late for an appointment. I hurry along to meet others.

I met quite a few celebrities this year. I guess they were all excited about the movie or something. Therefore, giving me an opportunity to feel important. (I thoroughly enjoyed it when my husband personally asked Paris Hilton if she could tell us who the most overrated celebrity at the festival is. She giggled and said she'd 'tell us later.' She's so smart.) I suppose the only person I'd ever really be star struck over is Paul Newman. And, well, he's dead.

I headed over to the premiere of the movie. There were hundreds of people and I was allowed all sorts of VIP access. Not knowing who they were, I met the remaining band members from The Doors and took their pictures with the free items I gave them. When it was time for the movie to start, I was offered a ticket. Yes, a ticket that thousands (not hundreds) of people try to get. I politely turned it down and drove home.

Just in case you forgot what a psycho Jim Morrison is, too:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7ZucE_olEs&feature=PlayList&p=6457CA4831D81225&playnext=1&index=7