National Press Foundation Awards Dinner, Tony Snow and Beats Work

On Thursday, February 28, I had the privilege of attending the 25th annual National Press Foundation Awards Dinner. 

More about the Awards Dinner and the NPF here:

http://www.nationalpress.org/info-url_nocat3523/info-url_nocat.htm

Six tickets worth $300 a pop were donated to the WCPJ by Microsoft. After reading about the dinner from the above URL, I immediately wrote it off as a large gathering of people who have mastered the art of kissing ass while constantly looking over shoulders for someone more important at the same time. An open bar was almost a necessity for something like this. It was the Oscars of print journalism with a pre-dinner reception and an after-party featuring Tony Snow and his band, Beats Work. 

My date (a fellow intern) and I arrived in time for the reception. It was only the second time I wore my suit. Earlier in the week, I brought it in for alterations because I ripped my pants legs from walking on them after my first day of work. The other four interns were not to be found, and we stopped worrying about them after a minute or so.   After the reception, we walked across the hall to the ballroom where the dinner was being held. We met the other interns at the Microsoft table, which was on the front row. 

Before the ceremony began, an elderly woman took her seat next to mine. She spoke a few words to me, but I was too distracted by her mustache to pay any attention to what she was saying. The woman began to get very upset over the fact that I wasn't listening. She pulled me to her and shouted in my ear, "I'm... (Evelyn something)." After I responded with a polite smile, she pulled me back to her. "I'm famous," she said. "Google me. You'll see, I'm famous." I wasted no time and responded in the only way one should respond to someone like this. "I'm famous too, probably a lot more famous than you'll ever be. Just Google me. You'll see." I wrote my name, Michael Jordan, on a napkin and handed it to her.  

I scooted back towards my date while the woman began digging through her gift bag. She grimaced at her free umbrella, and shoved it in the hands of the gentleman sitting next to her. "I don't want this thing," she said. A few minutes later, she snatched it back from him, shouting that she had changed her mind. After she finished eating her salmon, she disappeared. 

Meanwhile, an old woman seated across the table had fallen asleep. She was so slouched it appeared she was on the verge of falling out of her chair. On top of that, her big black hat was completely covering her face. She was dressed for a funeral and now she looked more like the honoree. I tapped my date on the shoulder and whispered, "look at the old woman across the table and try not to laugh." We started giggling and could not stop. 

When her head slumped to the side and her big black hat fell off, we absolutely lost it.  People at the Rolls Royce table became annoyed. Some looked on in disgust while a few others caught on an began laughing themselves. Meanwhile, Washington Post's Dana Priest and Ann Hall were accepting their award for their famous Walter Reed military hospital pieces. My date stopped laughing and looked at the gentleman across the table. She slammed her fist on a saucer dish and demanded that he hand over the last bottle of wine. 

After the dinner, I spoke with Tony Snow. We talked about music and his band, but he did say that he "enjoyed every minute" of his former job as White House press secretary. The interns went home, and I stuck around for the after-party. Tony Snow and Beats Work rocked the house with and entertaining but predictable set list (Brown Eyed Girl, Margaritaville, Take it Easy, etc...).  I danced, met a few girls and got a few numbers. The night was a success, until I got lost in my own neighborhood trying to find my house. 

Thanks to Kristen Daum for the pics. I hope she wasn't too embarrassed.