The phone lights up. An icon blinks insistently.
The elderly volunteer faulters. Her finger hovers over the phone, the earpiece clutched in her hand. She looks at me hestitantly.
"Go ahead." I say. "Press the button next to the line. The one with the phone icon."
She presses it and whispers, "Hello. Kennedy Center Honors."
Again she looks at me.
"Bill Urban? Yes. One moment please." She places one hand over the recceiver and in a stifled, stage whisper she asks, "Where is Bill Urban?"
"He's at his desk," I patiently answer, "Extension 8-9-0-1." I say slowly for the fifth time this morning. She presses the numbers slowly and then I remind her, "Hit the 'transfer' button again. There you go." She smiles, pleased with herself. The other volunteer looks confused when the phone call going to Bill seems to be a new call coming in. "Don't worry. Remember, it sounds as if it's ringing here?" 'Oh yeah.' She breaths a sigh of relief. 'Dodged that bullet again!' she thinks.
And then we wait for it to start all over again.
This isn't a description of all the volunteers I supervise but a select few who have distinguished themselves by being spectacularly inadequate at a modern convienence known as the telephone.
Some of my volunteers are intelligent, elegant women retired and contributing to the performing arts. Some are working women who take time out of their busy schedule to contribute their valuable time to this place and some are just incompetent. And then there are different levels. Some women take a little longer than others to catch on and some get nervous at first. For some it's like babysitting.
So the list of the talent that will be here includes Reese Witherspoon, Jessica Simpson, Alison Krauss, Aretha Franklin, Cee-Lo, India.Arie, Johnny Lang, Shania Twain, Vince Gill, Liam Neeson (accompanied by his lovely wife, Natasha Richardson) Tom Hanks (and his wife?) Josh Groban, Itzak Perlman and a bunch of Broadway people that sing and dance and I don't really care about. I need to find out where Rehearsal Room #1 is so that I can ask Jessica Simpson if she'd like a Tuna Salad or Chicken Salad sandwich. And to walk past casually when Josh Groban is there and melt into a puddle outside the door when I hear his voice. I don't like his songs all that much but he could just sing arias and I'd put out. (kidding. kidding. Or am I?)
I stole the rider to find out what everyone was demanding. Apparently we have some pretty reasonable guests because the only person who has anything other than the usual tea, coffee, water service is Shania Twain and all she asked for was assorted, easy to find vegetables and fruit and juices and some knifes and a cutting board. No bottles of Cristal, No organic foods, Not even a beer! You would think Jessica would at least ask for a massuese! But she does have her hairstylist Ken Payes. Maybe that's her big request.
Aja has been running around here like she's about to get the firing squad if she makes one wrong move. And I guess she is. She's working for Louis J. Horvitz. The director of the Oscars and Emmys. She's his PA working with his personal assistant, Sam. When Aja met Sam she told Aja 'Everything you've heard about Lou is probably true.' and then proceeded to give Aja a very specific list of what kind of ginger ale and orange cream soda to buy and what time exactly to be at his hotel door..
**NEWSFLASH!!** I just talked to REESE WHITHERSPOON!! She sounded sweet and said thank you. Ahhhh. I can't quit breathe and my heart is racing and I have a dopey smile. I'm never going to be able to be blase about meeting famous people. Not ever.
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