It's an odd traditional, the red carpet. The press lines up. The occassional celebrity wanders by. Lame questions are asked. Lame answers are given. Photos are taken.
And there's a lot of down time, especially when there isn't a pre-determined start time for the event (as there is with a movie screening or theater opening).
Here are some of my thoughts during those in-between moments as I stood sandwiched between MTV reporters and local news teams waiting for the next celebrity guests to arrive at the night-before-Super Bowl Rolling Stone party downtown.
--Why are TV anchors so desperate to have out-of-towners validate Indianapolis. Can someone who got off a plane two hours earlier really have anything of merit to say about how wonderful Indy is?
--Either Natalie Morales or Savannah Guthrie should have Ann Curry's job.
--A band like Cobra Starship could play Indy every year for a decade and get no TV attention, but put its members on a red carpet and suddenly they are deemed worth talking to.
--Actress Nikki Reed ("Twilight") is gorgeous. There, I said it.
--If ten reporters on a red carpet have to ask "Who's that?" to a PR person, then that person has no business taking one quick photo op and then dodging the line to sneak in a different way (Yes, I'm talking to you, Captain America, whatever your real name is).
--It would have been more fun seeing Dave Navarro if he had joined the celebrity poker game the previous evening.
--It's frustrating when the one celebrity you actually have a question for doesn't show up. If you are reading this Neal Patrick Harris, here's my question: Cole Porter or Hoagy Carmichael?
--Did people actually have fun inside the party?