Dream. Hope. Rock: Part 4

We all tumbled into the awaiting van, exhausted and exhilarated. If anything, thought, I felt even more alone. I was in awe of the power these artists had managed to hold over the crowd of 45,000. To hold that many people in the palm of your hand, to make them feel something so powerful, to somehow achieve transcending us out of our bodies while making us feel so very present and aware. That was power. That was art.

The ride back was quick. We pulled up to the hotel and rolled into the bar for the after party. Surprisingly, it was a small room and a small party but everyone was there. I shook hands with a Pet Shop Boy. I got cruised by a still sunglass-wearing George Michael. As I saddled up to the bar I came face-to-face with Rufus Wainwright, TV Actor by my side.

"Rufus!" She yelled. "You were fantastic." She introduced me and he introduced his sister, Martha.

NIce to meet you both.

We talked for a while, I can't imagine what about now. I remember he leaned in very closely, so close I was a little uncomfortable. His hair was greasy and unwashed. In fact, his entire aura was that of "unwashed." I also thought he was a little high on something. I was tired, hungry and getting drunk quickly. After a while I politely excused myself, shook his hand and went in search of TV Actor. I finally found her sandwiched between Chaka Khan and George Michael.

Hey, I'm running up to the room. I'll be back in a few.

She blew some smoke in my face, smiled and said 'OK.'

As I left the room I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders. I didn't have to smile anymore. I didn't have to be charming. I didn't have to talk to people who were more successful than me. I didn't have to worry about saying the right thing. I didn't have to tell anyone how fantastic they were. I could breath. And I could be alone. It was about 2am and the elevator was empty as it shot up to my floor. I let myself into the room and collapsed on the bed, falling asleep fully clothed. Alone again.

***

The next morning I woke up early. I had to eat something. I was starving, had a headache and needed coffee.

I crept in to the living room. TV Actor's door was closed but I knocked lightly. We had to rouse ourselves and gather to meet one more time downstairs for the Millenium March. Ellen and crew were leading the parade. We'd be directly behind them.
I knocked again. There was a groan and I cracked the door.

Wake up, sleepy head.

"What happened to you last night?"

I had a headache and I was exhausted. I came up, got into bed and fell asleep.

Truth to tell I've always been notorious for disappearing from parties and events. After a while, I get fed up and usually overwhelmed by a sense of loneliness and desolation at big events. I find it easier to just leave without saying anything than to find everyone and say goodbye and make excuses for my leaving, etc. Also, the feelings usually become so strong that I just need to jet. Even if I've had a part in whatever event we're celebrating, I leave the same way. I get disgusted by the phoniness of the situation.

"We missed you. Rufus sought me out later and asked about you."

Rufus was drunk and high.

"And dirty."

Yes, and dirty.

"I thought you liked that."

Not last night. Ok, I'm gonna go get us some coffee and snacks and you get showered and dressed. Meet me in the lobby.

I ran to Starbucks and get us the appropriate caffeine and sugar products to sustain us through the mornings events. It was a bright, beautiful Sunday; a perfect Spring day in DC. I got back to the hotel and the camera crew was milling around. Ellen, Anne and Ellen's mom, Betty DeGeneres, were talking to the cameras. I sat, sipped my coffee and watched. TV Actor made a grand entrance. Someone must have tipped her off to the cameras rolling. I heard someone say that Melissa and Julie were staying in and skipping the march, they were too tired. We piled into the van, cameras rolling the entire time. No one said hello or good morning to me.

The van driver wasn't told where exactly we were supposed to go. We drove around for quite some time and came across one closed street after another. The driver was getting angry and Ellen and Anne were getting on edge. The march was supposed to start at any minute and we were nowhere near where we needed to be. Finally, Anne yelled out 'Just let us out here.' We were somewhere along the National Mall.

The van driver stopped, the doors opened and we poured out; cameras rolling. We knew the general direction we were supposed to be going in, but nothing specific. The Mall was packed with marchers getting ready. We only got a few feet before we were spotted and immediately, terrifyingly, the crowd started to close in. Hundreds of men and women were calling out Ellen's name. She tried to be gracious. She tried to shake hands and smile at people. It soon became impossible. People wanted to touch her, to talk to her, to devour her. We formed a protective circle around the couple and made our way back to the van, people shouting, screaming and rushing us. People threw themselves into our hands and arms to try and break through. We pushed Ellen and Anne in and quickly followed, closing the door harshly on a crowd of people quickly angered by our denial.

The van took off. We came to another blocked street but this time a cop was stationed at the barricade. We pleaded our case and he let us through, still too far from our destination. The street, of course, dead ended. But we could hear the March and we knew we were that much closer. Unfortunately, we also had to climb a wall and scale a hill to get there. Ellen and Anne ran ahead leading the pack. At one point, Ellen looked back in concern for her mother. I waved and said, I've got her. Don't worry. I took Betty's hand and I led her up the hill and there, below us, was the March.

I can't even begin to describe how many people were there. Men and women of all shapes and sizes, all colors, all walks of life, led by a simple banner proclaiming equality for all. When they saw Ellen running towards them they let out a great roar. She and Anne kept running, their hands over their heads in exaltation, a cloud of dirt and rocks being kicked up in their wake. They each ran to one side of the sign and grabbed it. They were both glowing with pride.

Betty let go of my hand and I trailed behind her until we caught up with the crowd. Ellen smiled and nodded at her mother and we took our places behind the banner. And we marched. We marched for equality. We marched for the under-represented. We marched for each other. And we marched for ourselves. It was truly overwhelming.

After a while the crowd, once again, started to push and pull their way closer to Ellen. I found myself getting further and further behind the group. I let them march ahead of me. Slowly, I found my way outside of the marchers and made my way in the sun back to the hotel. I packed my bag, left the TV Actor a note and headed for the airport.