I Met Madonna

I Met Madonna

Andy Cohen finally meets her madgesty!

I spent the last 48 hours on social turbocharge with my sometimes sober, but always charged, pal Bruce experiencing the magic of Oscar weekend in LA, where anything can happen and you don't know who you'll meet or see. When else could I have possibly run into Keanu Reeves 4 times over 3 days? The whole thing is pretty much one big blur. I know there were 3 big parties. I know that they were so good that at one point I looked around and saw Mick, the Brokeback Boys, George and Nicole and realized I was the only one looking at them. And I know that I wasn't invited because the hosts were looking for coverage in Andy's blog! If I blog about each one in aggressive detail I'll never get invited back!

I will report that I met two ladies along the way that rocked my world. I am not talking about me and Cheryl Tiegs. I am not referring to the moment I told Ms. Carey, "Mariah, you're on fi-ah.". I am not speaking of exchanging bon mots with Jackie and Joan Collins (the latter sporting a cowboy hat and her own hair.) I am not speaking of meeting Oprah bf Gayle King or when I insulted the First Lady of California with a faux pas too humiliating to report. . I am speaking first of meeting Madonna. I was in a heated conversation about plastic surgery with Sony Honcho Michael Lynton and his wife Jamie when I first spotted HER. Her Madgesty breezed by teeny, toned, and dressed in black with hair in full "Hung Up"/Farrah mode. I freaked. I was in full orange terror alert and it was like a ring-and-run when I left the Lyntons in the dust, flew out of the conversation, and ran to find Bruce.

We found a spot nearby where we could watch her, and then a friend who volunteered to introduce us. As our friend brought us over for the introducion, Bruce literally physically shoved past me in order to get to the lady. He almost stepped on me. It's nice to know that your best pal will be there looking out for number one when it's time to meet Madonna. As far as the meeting itself there is actually painfully little to tell. Bruce had met her before and (crazily shared a dance with her) so he picked up the ball with their last meeting and was able to engage her sucessfully for a couple minutes as I stood frozen. As I kicked Bruce's shin, he turned to introduce me. "Madonna, this is my friend Andy," he said. He loved saying it as much as I loved hearing it. She was very nice with handshakes, lots of direct eye contact and introductions to her friend. I didn't dare talk to her about anything I really wanted to. I don't think she wanted to discuss her hair in the "Sorry" video. I considered being a little nasty to her because I thought she might respect me more. I tried to interject a few jokes but they either weren't heard or fell flat. I mainly just stayed frozen. A couple hours later she walked by us and we all clinked glasses. To Bruce she raised her glass and said, "Cheers, baby." I just got a clink and "cheers" and that was really all I needed.

Cheers back, superstar, and by the way I am ready to leave the party now because what more can happen. A lot more did happen hours later but none of it involved that Lady. I was talking to "Truth or Dare" director Alek Keshishian when, from afar, over tops of heads, I saw "the hair." Miss Ross was smiling brightly. Radiant in tight black pants and top, long grey coat, chunky jewelry, superstar shades, and the hair. The backstory here is that I have been a fanatic on several levels for this performer since I was 12 years old in St. Louis getting quizzical looks from my parents about their son putting up Diana Ross posters in his room. I found my friend who'd intro'd us to Madonna and told him that I was back on Orange Alert and might need cpr if he didn't arrange an intro at the right time.

An hour later I was summoned to meet the Supreme Being. I was cool as a cucumber as I sat down with Miss Ross and her daughter Tracey. We talked about everything but the fact that I was a huge fan. I didn't want it to be a fan encounter. Five minutes later my friend Sandy Gallin joined us and said, "you know Andy is your biggest fan, right?" My cover was blown but Ross loved it. I stayed another 45 minutes, fell in love with Tracey, got to ask her mom some real good fan Q's, and a friend came over and took some photos of us that I don't have permission to include on this blog!

In terms of the Oscars themselves: - I loved George Clooney's speech. - I'm wondering why Lauren Bacall didn't get a standing ovation. Were people waiting for Eric Bana? - Doesn't TAB's energy drink look fantastic? - Was Jessica Alba dangerously thin or was my plasma set on the "thin" function? - The best looking guy in the room wasn't George Clooney, but actually his companion and agent, Bryan Lourd. - God Bless Tomlin and Streep and doesn't Meryl look amazing? - "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp" was a wonderful addition to the evening and injection of class into an otherwise tasteless affair. Seriously, did I miss something? How is it possible that Dolly did not win this award? - I wish Jennifer Garner would have hit the dirt to really give us all something to talk about today.

Tomorrow: Report from inside the Vanity Fair party

Want to reach Andy? E-mail him
Who's Andy? Read his bio


You May Also Like...
Recommended by Zergnet