In
      Search
      of
      B-List
      Celebrities
      at
     
     
      the
      East
      Coast
      Music
      Awards
     
    
   
   
    
     
      by
      Stephan
      MacLEOD
     
    
   
   
    
     
      FRIDAY
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Like
      great
      explorers
      we
      fear-
     
     
      lessly
      sought
      adventure
      under
      and
     
     
      above
      ground
      in
      the
      heart
      of
      down-
     
     
      town
      Saint
      John
      during
      ECMA
      week-
     
     
      end.
      The
      blistering
      cold
      wind
      blowing
     
     
      off
      the
      harbour
      forced
      us
      to
      confine
     
     
      our
      expedition
      to
      the
      artificially
      heat-
     
     
      ed
      maze
      of
      underground
      tunnels
      and
     
     
      pedways
      connecting
      businesses
      in
      the
     
     
      city’s
      central
      market
      place.
      This
      dimly
     
     
      lit
      Habitrail
      of
      food
      courts,
      hotels,
      and
     
     
      flower
      shops
      provided
      a
      wealth
      of
     
     
      activity
      to
      stimulate
      our
      adventurous
     
     
      hearts.
      And
      the
      fact
      that
      minor
      region-
     
     
      al
      celebrities
      and
      rock
      stars
      could
      be
     
     
      spotted
      in
      all
      directions
      made
      the
     
     
      experience
      that
      much
      more
      exciting.
     
    

    
     
      Stalking
      musicians
      and
      televi-
     
     
      sion
      personalities
      is
      easy,
      if
      you
      can
     
     
      blend
      in
      with
      all
      the
      other
      industry
     
     
      weasels
      by
      wearing
      a
      media
      pass.
     
     
      Pretending
      to
      be
      a
      writer
      for
      a
      news-
     
     
      paper
      with
      intentions
      on
      covering
      the
     
     
      East
      Coast
      Music
      Awards
      is
      all
      you
     
     
      need
      to
      do
      in
      order
      to
      acquire
      a
      pass.
     
     
      My
      fellow
      explorer
      and
      I
      got
      three
     
     
      passes
      in
      total
      when
      we
      attempted
      this
     
     
      ruse.
      Two
      passes
      would
      have
      been
     
     
      fine,
      but
      the
      volunteers
      in
      charge
      of
     
     
      handing
      out
      passes
      included
      nifty
     
     
      ECMA
      backpacks
      stuffed
      with
      pens,
     
     
      condoms,
      breath
      mints,
      and
      other
     
     
      booty.
      I
      jumped
      at
      the
      opportunity
      to
     
     
      snag
      an
      extra
      bag
      by
      telling
      the
      volun-
     
     
      teer
      that
      I
      had
      to
      pick
      up
      a
      pass
      (and
     
     
      bag)
      for
      a
      friend
      who
      was
      also
      a
     
     
      “reporter.”
      I
      found
      out
      later
      that
      an
     
     
      official
      ECMA
      giftshop
      was
      selling
     
     
      similar
      bags
      for
      $15.
      Had
      I
      known
      the
     
     
      value,
      I
      would
      have
      asked
      for
      another
     
     
      pass.
     
    

    
     
      The
      extra
      bag
      came
      in
      handy
     
     
      on
      our
      first
      expedition.
      The
      circulated
     
     
      air
      of
      the
      connected
      buildings
      was
     
     
      very
      warm,
      my
      jacket
      was
      suffocating
     
     
      me,
      and
      |
      looked
      strange
      wearing
      two
     
     
      backpacks
      at
      the
      same
      time.
      So
      I
      fold-
     
     
      ed
      up
      my
      jacket
      and
      placed
      it
      in
      a
      back
     
     
      pack,
      then
      placed
      that
      backpack
      inside
     
    
   
   
    
     
      [8]
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      the
      other
      backpack.
      I
      was
      ready
      to
     
     
      explore.
     
    

    
     
      Even
      my
      wildest
      expectations
     
     
      could
      not
      prepare
      me
      for
      the
      surprises
     
     
      that
      lurked
      around
      every
      corner,
      and
     
     
      on
      every
      escalator
      within
      the
      complex.
     
     
      Our
      first
      B-List
      celebrity
      sighting
     
     
      occurred
      almost
      immediately
      after
     
     
      receiving
      my
      media
      pass/survival
      kit.
     
     
      In
      an
      underground
      tunnel
      connecting
     
     
      the
      Hilton
      to
      the
      rest
      of
      civilization,
      I
     
     
      bumped
      into
      Global
      TV
      media
      person-
     
     
      ality,
      Nelson
      Hansen.
      At
      first
      I
      did
      not
     
     
      recognize
      the
      penis-shaped
      head,
      but
     
     
      when
      he
      struck
      up
      a
      conversation
      with
     
     
      me,
      I
      realized
      that
      this
      was
      the
      same
     
     
      person
      I
      had
      been
      making
      fun
      of
      the
     
     
      other
      night
      while
      watching
      his
      enter-
     
     
      tainment
      report
      on
      Global.
      He
      was
     
     
      fooled
      by
      my
      media
      pass
      and
      felt
      com-
     
     
      fortable
      enough
      to
      share
      some
      small
     
     
      talk
      with
      me.
      I
      knew
      the
      pass
      gave
      me
     
     
      power.
      Status
      even.
      Not
      only
      could
      I
     
     
      get
      free
      merchandise
      and
      sneak
      into
     
     
      shows
      for
      free,
      but
      I
      could
      also
      trick
     
     
      reporters
      and
      musicians
      into
      thinking
     
     
      that
      I
      was
      important.
      My
      fellow
     
     
      explorer
      and
      I
      decided
      that
      we
      must
     
     
      abuse
      that
      power
      in
      order
      to
      gain
     
     
      access
      into
      strange
      new
      worlds.
     
    

    
     
      Best
      New
      Artist
      nominee
      Joel
     
     
      Plaskett
      walked
      by
      us
      as
      we
      were
      con-
     
     
      templating
      the
      numerous
      ways
      we
     
     
      could
      use
      our
      media
      passes
      for
      evil.
      It
     
     
      dawned
      on
      us
      that
      we
      could
      stalk
     
     
      celebrities
      and
      nominees,
      take
      photos
     
     
      to
      prove
      we
      saw
      them,
      and
      in
      the
     
     
      process
      enjoy
      the
      thrilling
      excitement
     
     
      of
      adventure.
      Joel
      was
      heading
     
     
      towards
      the
      underground
      tunnel
      to
      the
     
     
      Hilton,
      so
      we
      pursued
      in
      that
      direc-
     
     
      tion.
      We
      thought
      the
      best
      plan
      would
     
     
      be
      to
      follow
      Joel
      into
      the
      elevator
      at
     
     
      the
      Hilton.
      In
      order
      to
      avoid
      suspicion,
     
     
      we
      would
      pretend
      to
      be
      going
      to
      a
      dif-
     
     
      ferent
      floor.
      But
      we
      intended
      to
     
     
      remain
      on
      the
      elevator
      for
      the
      rest
      of
     
     
      the
      evening
      snapping
      pictures
      of
      any
     
    
   
   
    
     
      celebrity
      that
      happened
      to
      use
      it.
      I
      .
     
    
   
   
    
     
      could
      imagine
      bumping
      into
      East
     
     
      Coast
      icons
      like
      Anne
      Murray,
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Slainte
      Mhath
      make
      me
      want
      to
      dance
      in
      my
      new
      pants.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      The
      shirtless
      Robbie
      Holland
      of
      Flush
      says
      hi.