August 8, 2004
I finally attended my first Golden Boot Awards Show Saturday night at the Universal Sheridan in Burbank. I have been threatening to go for the past four years and something always comes up, but this year Dave Daiss said, “I’m drivin’ and we’re goin’.” He, his wife Doreen, and I left Friday morning at six and made record time on I-10 straight into Babylon (350 miles, six hours). Dave averages 85 (I’m not kidding) and I told him the only thing that separates travelling with him vs. Southwest is the peanuts.

After Friday night’s party at the Sportsman’s Lodge on Ventura Blvd., I wasn’t expecting much. The Friday night bash, which several people told me was going to be more fun, informal and impressive (goofily, I imagined myself sharing a beer with Tom Selleck and Val Kilmer) was kind of underwhelming. As it turns out, the poolside bar-b-que was short on celebs and long in the tooth. That is, those who still had teeth. I did see Grizzly Adams, the tv star who got busted for cocaine several years ago. His entourage looked rough and tawdry, as did several other “stars”. Still I had a great time talking to my compadres, Paul and Tracie Hutton, Miles Swarthout, Thadd Turner, Jeff Hidlebrandt, Gary Foreman and others. The band was great and Tracie Hutton asked me to dance and we did a mean poolside watusi, frug and twist-athon to a medley, that started with “Roll Over Bethoven,” segued into “Surfin’ U.S.A.” and ended with “Let’s Twist Again (Like We Did Last Summer)”. My kind of dancin’ and fun

The Boot awards show on Saturday night was on another level. Big stretch limos, papparazi, grade A botox babes in tight dresses with just enough star power to make you drool. David Carradine (Long Riders, Kung Fu, Kill Bill) walked in right in front of us with some Hollywood honey. Bruce Boxleitner yelled at me in the silent auction room, (“True West sucks!” he said, laughing loudly.) Speaking of which, our True West gift package sold for $135 at the silent auction. A pretty woman from northern California won the bid (she told me she just had to have my Val Kilmer artprint we included).

At seven we sauntered into the ballroom. At the True West table (#43, as in 43 tables away from the podium) we had too many people. Evidently taking a page from the airline industry, the organizers had oversold the room, so they added four people to our table (pushing the occupancy to 12). This made for tight elbows and strained conversations, but we made out fine.

Besides we weren’t there to eat, we were there to gawk, and we got plenty of that. Val Kilmer came out first. I heard later, he was literally being crushed in the lobby, had to be whisked into the “green room” and needed to get on and out ASAP. He was quite gracious. Told about how he can’t go through an airport without three people asking him to say, “I’m your huckleberry.” He was introduced by Dana Delaney who played Josie Earp in Tombstone. She was great and looked mighty fine.

The producer of the show and co-MC, Rob Word, introduced the many celebs in the audience and I was surprised at how many names were there. Mickey Rooney, Clint Walker (Cheyenne, sitting two tables away), Penny from Sky King (one table over). Elke Summer and the starlet who played “Octopussy” in one of the James Bond movies, Scott Glenn (Silverado, Urban Cowboy), Tom Selleck (who also had the crush factor and made a brief cameo, then disappeared), Robert Horton (Wagon Train), Sidney Poitier, Robert Osborne (Turner Classic Movies), Fess Parker (Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone) and quite a few of the cast from Deadwood. During a break, I went over to their table and introduced myself. I gushed all over the actress who plays Calamity Jane (she’s just a shy, sweet, little girl!), met the guy who plays the doctor, also the sleazy hotel guy and Trixie, the whore who works for Al Swearengen. She came by our table several times and is a wispy, little starlette. She also played Allie Earp in Tombstone. Got to bed way too late, got up at six, roared home through the searing heat. Stopped at Erhenberg to see the graveyard and the heat was just wilting. Got home at 3:30. Tired. More to tell later.

“The chief enemy of creativity is good taste."
—Pablo Picassoo