PETER BUFFA -- Comments and Curiosities

Don’t just sit there, for heaven’s sake, keep reading! So much to tell

you, so little time. Tonight is, of course, Hollywood’s night of nights.

More than 1.5 billion people will tune their tubes to watch the pomp,

the pageantry and the puffery of the quest for Oscar -- the little gold

guy who is 73 years old and still doesn’t have any pants.

And that means it’s time for the fifth annual “Buffa Picks Oscar Pix,”

to borrow a headline from Variety.

But first, I promised you a full report on my excellent St. Patrick’s

Day adventure as a guest bartender at Skosh Monahan’s.

Could it have been more fun? I think not. Goals are important. Mine

were modest. Don’t break anything, and don’t poison anyone. I had the

good sense, oddly enough, to get in a few nights of practice before the

Big Green Day arrived.

Gary Monahan was very accommodating, but smart enough to make sure I

was never alone behind the bar.

My two trainers -- Deb and Chanda -- were real-life, top-notch

bartenders and far more patient with me than I deserved.

Lesson No. 1 was beers, ales and wines. Lesson No. 2 was mixed drinks.

After my first attempt at a martini, Lesson 2 was canceled and we

returned to Lesson 1.

Drawing a beer from the long line of taps is very cool. You pull the

big lever, chat nonchalantly as the glass fills, then top it off with the

perfect head. That’s once you get the hang of it, of course.

It’s amazing how much foam a tap can produce if you do it wrong. It

was like the washing machine episode from “I Love Lucy.” The foam just

keeps coming.

The only saving grace is that you’re facing away from the bar. I’d

press myself against the counter to hide what was happening, desperately

shoving one glass after another under the tap until I got something that

looked more like a beer than a Slurpee.

Finally, the big day arrived. It was time. Gary could tell I was a

little tense and tried to bolster my confidence. He thought about it for

a moment, then said I got ice from the kitchen better than any bartender

he knew. I was so proud.

Chanda and I handled the main bar while Deb ran a second bar up front.

For a while, it was nothing but green lights and blue skies.

I handled the bar customers while Chanda took drink orders from the

waitresses, led by the “M&M;” girls, Marti and Michelle.

At first, I’d give everyone a big “hello” and wish them a happy St.

Paddy’s Day. But before long, the orders started coming fast and thick.

By 7 o’clock, I was pointing at people and shouting, “What’ll it be?”

By 8 o’clock, my biggest problem was that I couldn’t hear anything above

the music and the crowd.

One woman asked me for a “Yellow Cab” three times before I could make

out what she was saying. “What’s a ‘Yellow Cab?” I shouted to Chanda.

“It’s a car that gives you a ride if you pay them,” she shouted back.

“She wants you to call her one.”

“I knew that,” I said, picking up the phone.

By 9 o’clock, the whole scene was stuck on fast-forward, and it was

full-tilt boogie for the rest of the night. It was a lot like another

“Lucy” episode -- Lucy and Ethel in the chocolate factory. But all in

all, it was a blast.

I met some nice people, and a lot of friends came by to say hello. We

had council members past and present, two former mayors, a newspaper

editor who said I made the best Irish coffee he’d ever tasted, and a

woman named Carolyn who said she really appreciated the fact that I

didn’t rush her and took the time to let her wine breathe. I didn’t know

what it meant, but I was afraid to ask anyone after the taxi fiasco.

Let’s see, what else did I learn? I learned that people will tell a

bartender they’ve known for five minutes things they wouldn’t tell their

best friend in a hundred years.

I learned that if some people saw how they look and sound after a few

drinks, they would never touch the stuff again. It was fascinating. And

next year, I’ll do better. I’ve already bought a book on martinis.

Now then, everybody sing: “Hooray for Hollywood, that screwy,

ballyhooey Hollywood. Where any office boy or young mechanic, can cause a

panic . . .”

Yikes. Stop. That was awful. May we have the envelopes, please?

For best supporting actor, the winner is Willem Dafoe for “Shadow of a

Vampire.” And yes, that is how he spells his first name.

There was a late buzz for Benicio Del Toro in “Traffic,” but Dafoe’s

reinvention of the horrific vampire from F.W. Murnau’s 1922 horror

classic “Nosferatu” is a knockout.

For best supporting actress, the winner is Kate Hudson for “Almost

Famous.”

Good thing I didn’t have to vote on this one because it includes two

of my favorite actresses -- Frances McDormand and Marcia Gay Harden. But

Kate -- daughter of Goldie Hawn -- Hudson it is.

For best actor, the winner is Tom Hanks for “Cast Away.”

The best actor category is especially strong this year, with Russell

Crowe, Ed Harris and Geoffrey Rush. But Hollywood loves Hanks, as it

should, and also loves blockbuster films. Hanks + blockbuster = Oscar.

For best actress, the winner is Julia Roberts for “Erin Brockovich.”

Forget it. It’s over. It’s Julia Roberts. End of story. Fade out.

Between her popularity, her performance and her necklines in “Erin

Brockovich,” she can’t be stopped.

For best director, the winner is Ang Lee for “Crouching Tiger, Hidden

Dragon.”

Steven Soderbergh’s dual nomination for “Traffic” and “Erin

Brockovich” cancel each other out, which means Lee wins it walking away.

Besides, if they don’t give it to him, he’ll really be Ang Lee. Sorry. I

couldn’t help it.

And the Oscar for the best film of 2000 goes to (drum roll, please)

“Traffic.”

It’s really a toss-up with “Crouching Tiger,” but Hollywood’s power

brokers will not be amused if the best picture nod goes to a foreign

film. Art is wonderful, but business is business.

Whew! Did we get it all in? Have fun, enjoy the Oscars, and the next

time you order a drink, remember to thank the bartender for not being

me. I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column is published

Sundays. He may be reached by e-mail at o7 ptrb4@aol.comf7 .