I attended the taping of a PBS special last night at the Palladium Theater in Hollywood.

Diane Warren, one of the most successful songwriters ever, created this new musical due called Due Voci.

And it was pure and utter torture.

First of all, half of the audience were winners of a radio station contest. Heavyset winners. The three that sat in front of us each took up two seats (I’m not exaggerating, but the seats were pretty small)

Anyway, that radio station is KOST 106.5.

Strike one.

Music so dull, it’s not even allowed in nursing homes.

We walk into the auditorium, after getting our free tickets and a green wristband.

I must find out what this wristband means! They didn’t check our ID, so it’s not for drinking.

And half the audience has blue wristbands.

I spend the next 10 minutes assuming we’re hot shit.

I stop a 3 foot tall PA, with 27 important looking lanyards dangling around her neck.

“Yeah, the blue is for the KOST VIP and the green is just general audience.”

Bitch.

We look up and see laughing, loud patrons drinking and eating in the above mezzanine.

We must get up there. I need free hummus and pita chips!

Eventually, after finding someone we knew and realizing we didn’t have special seats, we snuck past the theater security guy and get our free hummus and pita chips. Sorry, I mean chip, that’s all that was left.

So, the show starts. Diane messes up a 100 times and has to redo her intro.

Besides introducing her babies (Due Voci or whatever) to the world for the first time, the point of the show is also to have famous artists sing the songs that Diane wrote for them.

Leanne Rimes comes out and sings “How Do I Live”

Diane writes love songs. Catchy as hell songs. I hate long songs.

Toni Braxton comes out and mimes her way through “Unbreak My Heart”

I begin to squirm. This is becoming too much.

We soon find out that Cher and Celine Dion had taped their segments so they won’t be showing up.

Fantasia comes out and sings some god awful song! I mean SCREACHES. Lordy lordy.

Due Voci finally comes out.

They are dressed like soap opera characters going to a costume ball. They stroke each other as they belt out their easy listening musical theater numbers and my mouth begins to fill with vomit.

Neither my host nor I can bear this pain a minute longer, she excuses herself to use the restroom and I join her a minute later.

We sat in the back so we wouldn’t be filmed just in case we had to escape.

The best decision we ever made.

XIAN:

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