I've never attended the Palm Springs International Film Festival Awards Gala. It's a key stop along the Oscar trail this time of year, very competitive with the Santa Barbara Film Festival. The two duke it out for honorees, one reticent to honor talent that the other has chalked up for an award. Which is obviously silly. But it seemed time to give it a go.
The evening was a nice enough one. Good whiskey, tasty spare ribs, yummy dessert. But the heathens at my table nearly tore it. I don't quite know what their business was there, but it appeared that most were friends of one of the festival's sponsors. Fine, fair enough, bring your friends. But maybe chastise them for gloating over snapping photos of Angelina Jolie in the bathroom? Earlier I heard another conniving over "getting my picture with George [Clooney]." Ugh.