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Rolling large in the Mile High

I always had a knack for getting VIP treatment in this city, but I’ve been away a long time. I never expected as much access as I’ve been given this week.

The credentials the DNC gave are the best level a reporter can get. Still, it was last night when I went out to some of the parties, that I really experienced VIP treatment.

When I lived in Denver, we were always getting backstage with some amazing band, or getting invited to fetish balls, or porn star parties. There was always something ridiculous going on. So, I was pretty excited to be going to two of the hottest parties on the calendar this week, both in the same night. It would sincerely add to my homecoming.

I’d scored an invite to the Rolling Stone magazine/Trojan condoms sponsored party, and my friend Darlene was invited to the Distilled Spirits Council party. (Those are the pro-liquor lobbyists in Washington) We agreed to bring each other as guests.

Brian dropped us off at the Rolling Stone party, and we were immediately ushered over to a VIP area, given lammies, and escorted upstairs via security, bypassing the line. I’d asked ahead of time if I could meet Joycelyn Elders who was a guest of honor. I was invited to sit with her and she consented to an interview, which I’ll save for hopes of publishing.

When we’d come in, I’d noticed Cindy Abbot, the legendary gossip columnist from the NY Post stationed by the red carpet. When Mike, the PR guy for the event mentioned that some Hollywood types were about to take to the red carpet, I asked if I could go cover it next to Cindy.

“Cindy, how do you like Denver?” I asked the staple of NYC celebrity gossip.
“Eck. It’s NOT New York,” she scoffed back.






After trying out a new type of journalism as paparazzi on the red carpet, I returned to the party and watched Bill Maher’s routine before we headed out to the Liquor Lobbyists.

At that party, I met various other lobbyists in town for the week, drank bourbons as old as I am, and enjoyed a cigar that had been aging the last 18 years. The shot table was full of whiskeys, bourbons and scotches, none of which was younger than 8 years old.

DeVotchKa was the entertainment, which was pretty cool for such an intimate setting. In fact, we left after the band, as it would have been dangerous to stay at a party with such elite and complimentary drinks too long. Besides we had work to do today. Speaking of which, I best go do some. Maybe I’ll get some footage of Mitt Romney and Rudy Gulianni crashing the Democrats’ party today.

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