Day 0: Arrival — Day 1: Virtual Reality
Good afternoon from Sun Valley!
It’s another glorious day and I can’t tell you how excited I am for this year’s Herb Allen Sun Valley Retreat.
The stars have aligned (unlike previous years which were total shit – except the The Acid Trip year and Burning Mogul which were fucking insane) and I am school girl giddily excited to witness the innovation and world-changing dialogue that will come from this year’s conference.
HA HA – I’m kidding, of course!
This will be another excrement drunk fest posing as an important “meeting of the masterminds” from the world of tech, media, communication and politics.
I feel bad for the poor journalists who have to stand in their little veal pen and cover this. It’s like covering a vomit festival from the vomitorium’s point of view (or something).
But I digress…
I have arrived and can’t wait to see what the Old White Men of Media (OWMOM) believe will happen in the future (new platforms and China anyone?). I don’t lump myself in the OWMOM crowd because Manka Bros. has decided not to hire anyone over the age of 30 – which will keep my brain young forever.
Luckily, we also have the Powerful Young White Men of Tech (PYWMOT – which I believe was a Michael Jackson song) here to tell us why the OWMOM are wrong.
It should be fascinating couple of days for a select few pricks.
If only I planned to pay attention.
My focus – as in previous years – is to get drunk and stay drunk.
The greatest bartender in the world – the luminous Bin Tran at “The Drankin’ Hole” (Duchin Lounge) is standing by to get me hammered and I must not keep him waiting.
I checked in and was handed a ticket for the ice cream sundae bar which will be set-up after dinner. Apparently last year two very prominent unnamed guests had multiple portions which resulted in someone having to take a helicopter to Ketchum to get Warren Buffet his favorite rainbow sherbert.
My room was a disappointment. It overlooks the colored ball pit attraction in the Kids’ Club (perhaps I am being punished for blogging about the conference). I asked to overlook the Hot Tub Grotto because I heard Brett Ratner and James Packer might be coming with a few “special guests” – but I suppose you can’t always get what you want.
I changed into my drinking shoes and slacks and headed straight for The Drankin’ Hole.
Let me get right to it… this conference will suck more than anything has ever sucked before.
Bin Tran and his brother Vin Tran were fired last year (reasons unknown) and replaced by some time actor Gary Golden.
Before I could even get my drink order in he told me he was going to be playing Bert in a Ketchum Music Theater production of “Mary Poppins” – and bartending isn’t want he really wants to do – and how can he get someone at Manka Bros. to look at his acting reel and… bullshit bullshit bullshit!
Eventually, I asked him to shut the fuck up, and to give me a bottle of vodka and a basket of fries.
Finally, Les Moonves entered and sat next to me. He carried with him the exhaustion of a man who just traveled four hours by private plane.
Les: The days are getting shorter, Khan.
I could have said something back like “Hello” – but I just wanted to let his words hang in the air and drink in silence.
But not 5 seconds later, Jeffrey Katzenberg popped his face in between us and said “WASSSUP?!”
At this point, all I want to do is get as hammered as possible before this infernal barbecue tonight.
Maybe they’ll roast a fallen mogul on a spit – seems apt for this place.