March 24, 1999
A little smooch is all it takes
MEREDITH by TORY HOKE
Sunday’s 71st Annual Academy Awards
was monumental in many ways - great and
small. As always, we saw the hottest evening
fashions for women grace the red carpet with
jewels only a princess could wear. From
Gwyneth Paltrow’s soft pink gown and simple crowned choker to
Celine Dion’s all-white ensemble hat and all hiding her parched hair
and face, there were few surprises for the awe-inspired crowds. Well,
Politic’s infamous lady of the night Monica Lewinsky joined the
Hollywood celebrates with her arm draped over the arm of her latest
beau. Together, they partied with the best of the best. How come I
wasn’t invited again?
It’s amazing that all it takes to get invited to the Oscars these days
is a little smooching with the nation’s president. Of course, the pres
ident did not go to the media circus since he was back to working
with the world’s concern in Kosovo, but his ex-girlfriend of sorts
made her presence known.
In a hideous black capped sleeve gown and curls in her hair,
Lewinsky made her way from party to party. Hollywood’s reactions
ranged from Fran Dresher’s “Oh, my God” to Good Will Hunting
writers Ben Affleck and Matt Damon’s “Where?” The responses
seemed varied as the entertainment gurus recorded the entire evening.
Dharma and Greg's Jenna Elfman simply replied “No comment.”
Of course, the bells rang in harmony as we all saw Lewinsky and
date being escorted away from the doors of one of the evening’s par
ties after trying to sneak her way in with the crowd. Who knew it
could be so much fun to watch security guards taking away a
I want to know what it is going to take for me - the casual member
of the general public - to get to the “big night” other than at Enter
tainment Tonight’s Oscar eve at the Californian Planet Hollywood.
Do I need to smooch with the local politician? If so, then I’m not
going to the West coast anytime soon ‘cause that’s not my style. Any
one around campus can tell you that.
It seems like to me it should be an honor to attend the Oscars, as it
is for the stars who spend so many months and years creating the
masterpieces and flops that win the nominations. As Whoopi Gold
berg graciously thanked Gene Siskel with a “thumbs up” signal, the
evening ended with a wave of gratitude and dismay as Spielberg and
crew walked away with only a fraction of the gold polished statuettes
they thought they would receive, and Roberto Benigni danced in his
seat again and again.
0(0 /oi; AJouy
Seeking Bare Naked fun
Editor in Chief
F'caliiies l-.dilor/Cartooni.st Tory Hoke
News Editor/C.’opy Editor Beth Hall
Arts & F-ntertainmcnt Editor Usa Gilliam
f’lubs I'ditor Li.sa Gilliam
Sports Coordinator. in transition
Police Rcpoiter Leslie Maxwell
Business Manager Michelle Drake
Reporters Kristen Bosledo, Amy lirbe/nik
Photo Ediioi In liaiisition
■ Distribution Manager. ......Christina Holder
Faculty Adviser Rcbccca Duncan
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ual issues that best fit the aiticle topic.
Imagine this scenario: you
and several of your friends are
sitting in the car, radio on and
keys in the ignition. The disc
jockey finally tells you what
you want to hear—and you’re
off, praying for green lights and
passing the slowpokes that
seem to be everywhere.
This scene, while it may
sound like some underhand
activity, is repeated every day
by Meredith students, including
Why? All to get Barenaked
The 17,000-ticket giveaway,
sponsored by G105, has put
people in a frenzy. A few min
utes before the G105 van gets
to its next location, the DJ
announces where the van will
be for the next few minutes.
The concert will be at Walnut
Creek on Apr. 8, the Thursday
Let me give you an example:
last Thursday night, my friend
and I got in the car at 8:10 p.m.
We went to the Crown to get
gas, and then we drove to the
Burger King parking lot. The
lights and car were off, but keys
were in the ignition with the
radio on high. We listened
impatiently to song after song.
Then at 8:30 p.m., the DJ told
us—the van would be at the
Raleigh Civic Center down
We tore out of the parking lot
and headed down Hillsborough
Street, (thankfully) making
mostly green lights. Cher’s
“Believe” gave us background
music with a good beat for our
drive. Fortunately, my driver
knew right where the Civic
Center was, and she maneu
vered gracefully around parked
cars and slow drivers (and of
course we were driving the
speed limit or under the whole
In about seven minutes, we
were there. We parked on the
side of the street near Memori
al Auditorium where people
watched Miss Saigon. We spot
ted the van and ran across the
parking lot and two streets.
About five other people
approached the van as we did.
As we ran up (and we were
truly running), a G105 employ
ee snapped our pictures. “Enjoy
the show,” a woman told us as
she handed us two tickets each.
We screamed — you
would’ve thought we had won
an Oscar. We got back in the
car, elated and stunned. Look
ing at our tickets and seeing the
words ‘Barenaked Ladies’ writ
ten on them, we screamed
again. We had more energy
than we’d had all day. I’m sure
the people in Miss Saigon won
dered what those screams were.
Once you get tickets, you’ll
understand what the hype is all
about. It’s like a game—where
will the van be next? Cary?
North Raleigh? Apex? It’s a
game I’m ready to play.
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