Red Tash's Blog, page 160
August 2, 2012
He IS the greatest.On the night of the Ali Center opening, I was...
He IS the greatest.
On the night of the Ali Center opening, I was one of a fleet of journos there to interview celebs at the Kentucky Center for the Arts. However, security was stupid, and they had barricaded the actual 4 block radius so no cars could get in. I guess they expected everyone to park in the street and walk. If it were the middle of the day, fine—but my mama didn’t raise no fools. I wasn’t walking down the dark streets of the ‘Ville by my lonesome in the unnatural stillness. Uh uh. Not me.
Security was very tight. Even the fans who showed up to do the red carpet fawning over celebrities had to stay across the street, so there was no chance of them even shaking hands or getting an autograph or anything.
Somehow (don’t ask me how, I don’t know), I talked my way through the barricade. They weren’t impressed by my press pass, so it must have been the puppy dog eyes.
Well, as I idled through the eerily empty streets, I expected a post-apocalyptic river monster to emerge from between the downtown skyscrapers any moment. Instead? A statuesque woman pushing a man in a wheelchair came right off the sidewalk in front of me.
She turned and looked at me, as if to say “Don’t you dare run us over.” That face. There was no one else it could be: Laila Ali.
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She pushed a man with truly the largest head I have ever seen on a person. It took me a few seconds to realize “OMG, that’s Muhammad Ali.”
I followed them along (they were right in the street) and then parked the car, and ran off to do my job, still asking myself why I hadn’t had the presence of mind to snap a pic of them out the car window.
Unfortunately the Ali Center’s PR people were completely stupid. They had somehow confused my blog with a television outlet, and encouraged me to plug into the feed and broadcast video from the gala celebration, but tried to keep me locked in an over-catered empty room with a video guy from God knows where.
I tried pleading, reasoning, and even talking to a friend of mine who was volunteering at the gala as a media escort, but the Chicago PR firm wasn’t letting me actually interview anyone, so I left, commiserating with Montel Williams’ people on the way out. They didn’t let Montel interview anyone, either! They did, however, disperse a stack of press releases about the Adidas-branded Ali cologne we were encouraged to write about! (Classy!)
That night I felt like they’d wasted the time I’d spent for weeks before boning up on boxing, Ali’s philanthropic work, every movie ever made about him, etc. and so on. I was a bit miffed that his idiot PR people had done that—I mean, it wasn’t like I was paid to do all that work, get spiffed up, leave my kids with a sitter, sneak through a barricade, and show up at the appointed time at the appointed place, but, hey—they obviously didn’t understand the definition of social media, blogging, and all that stuff. (Many would argue they still don’t—years later the Ali Center is not exactly a rollicking success.)
However, in the process of doing all that research, I became a true admirer of a boxer, of all things. Not just a boxer. The boxer. The Greatest.
Did you know there are parts of the globe where the name Jesus has not yet been spoken, but they know who The Greatest is? That is a true story, folks. That’s how big a deal Ali is, on a global scale.
And I damn near coulda run him over. If only I’d had that opportunity with the Chicago PR firm. ;)
Sorry, Bradgelina, I tried to interview you about Ali’s influence on your lives. I’ll have to settle for chatting you up about it over coffee at our next play date, I reckon.
At home I am a nice guy: but I don’t want the world to know. Humble people, I’ve found, don’t get very far. ~Ali
Troll Or Derby is Book of the Month @ Everlasting Young Adult Books
August 1, 2012
realityayslum:
Pierre Molinier - La Comtesse Midralgar, 1950.
…...
Pierre Molinier - La Comtesse Midralgar, 1950.
… from Pierre Molinier, Editions Treville, 2007.
