Los Angeles, CA
Another early morning, another breakfast, another few hours bashing away on the computer in the sunshine firing off emails and replies, setting things up, chasing responses to projects and so on.
By the time the laptop runs out of power and needs recharging I'm happy to get out of the midday sun and finish up in the hotel room. After a couple more hours the stomach's rumbling and my eyes need a screen break, so rather than remain inside I decide to go for a walk and find a cheap little restaurant; the obvious place is Mel's Diner.
I walk along Sunset Boulevard past the famous landmarks on the Strip - the Rainbow, Whisky A-Go-Go's, the Viper Rooms and grab myself a table for one al fresco style. Continuing the health kick I choose the Santa Fe salad and insist that any dressing be on the side. Sure enough, a little dish of ranch dressing sits alongside my huge salad... which is covered in melted cheese!!! What is it with the bloody runny fromage on everything?! I consider throwing an LA-style hissy fit, using words like 'lacto-intolerant', 'lawyers' and 'sue your damn ass off' but hey, I'm from England and it's only a bit of grilled gruyere so I scrape it off and leave it as a gunky mess on the side. A dirty protest, if you like...
Behind me sits a 20-something dude in huge shades, chatting loudly on his cellphone. "Yo I'm in LA. Going to Coachella man. Awesome.... I know, it's gonna be sick!" A pause, and then "Hey, I know that chick!" He calls over to a girl walking past the restaurant . "What's your name?"
The girl turns and pouts, "Why, you think I'm a star?" she coos provocatively. Only in LA...
I get back to the hotel and meet up with Paul and grab a cab over to the Capitol building on Hollywood and Vine to have a couple of meetings before we go to the TV studios. Outside we stop to take a snap of some Hollywood stars on the pavements - John Lennon, George Harrison, Ringo Starr but strangely no sign for Macca. A little odd. Chanel and Emma are waiting for us and Chanel takes us up on the roof to get some of the best views in LA. We can see out to Santa Monica in the west and the distant haze of the ocean, to the south are the skyscrapers of Downtown and behind us the Hollywood Hills with the Hollywood logo glinting in the sun.
Paul waits patiently as I pop into various offices and meet Bob and Meg in the US marketing team to discuss the upcoming launch of our new pop prodigy Sky Ferreira. Somehow we get sidetracked on to talking about Rammstein and then Iron Maiden. All conversations lead to Maiden at some point...
Eventually Emma, Paul and I hop into another cab and travel down to Beverly Blvd to the CBS television studios for American Idol. We arrive after filming of the live show has started and after picking up our passes we're whisked upstairs to the dressing rooms. As we enter the building I see piles of phones and cameras in the corner - the audience are stripped of their devices and thrown out if they try and record a moment. I'm warned to be "discreet" if I want to grab any pics. Ha ha - I stride straight up to Ryan Seacrest's dressing room and grab a photo. He's on stage so will never know.
Various Idol contestants are milling around so we find Lady Antebellum's team - Daniel, the manager, Mary, the publicist and Genevieve, online marketing - huddled in a little room watching the show on TV. We're not allowed into the actual studio until Lady A take to the stage.
A previous contestant - Adam Lambert - one of the most popular and controversial figures from the last series is performing a guest spot, plugging his new single in a haze of dry ice and we just sit patiently while he finishes. A couple of people are voted off, the show ends, Fox News comes on and we wait and wait to be called down for Lady A's performance, which is being pre-recorded for next week as their schedule means they can't make the live show.
After 40 minutes I'm starting to worry that they've forgotten us and the band are playing away downstairs while we're sat like lemons in a dressing room so we go and explore. Waving our passes in the air we sail onto set only to find the warm-up guy telling lame jokes to the audience and handing out phones "from AT+T, our sponsors. Let's give them a cheer, people!!". Lady A are patiently waiting at the side of the stage while all the technical nonsense is reset for their performance.
They greet us warmly and we have a nice chat, exchanging pleasantries until we run out of steam. And then we all carry on waiting. The stage manager shows us all to a swish green room with leather sofas, fruit platters, iced drinks and so on. We carry on waiting.
Finally after well over an hour we go and sit amongst the audience, who are by now being kept happy with free t-shirts and promises of a pass to next week's show. The backing band play the track through without vocals to set the levels, then Charles, Hilary and Dave appear. Cue applause, cue a couple of full and very impressive takes and then we're done.
With the lights up I notice that the seats we're on are actually the VIP reserved section so I nick the sign next to me. Well, Simon Fuller can print another. A quick, surreptitious snap of me under the Idol sign and then Emma, Paul and I hurry out of the back exit.
We order a cab but it takes ages to arrive so we fill time with a wide-ranging conversation which takes in racism, Obama vs Bush, Hurricane Katrina and LA's propensity to earthquakes, as you do. From there it's a short hop to tsunamis and other natural disasters. I mention that I'd seen a brief mention of an Icelandic volcano on CNN and we all laugh that because it's not a US incident that's the last we'll hear of it while we're in America. Not the best prediction we've ever made.
It's gone 10pm and we're starving so Emma suggests a visit to Koi for some sushi. It's a lovely way to end the evening. Tomorrow we have interviews and a gig, with other journalists and friends flying in from the UK for the Coachella festival. All is well...
