“First off, I’d like thank the Academy for this great honor…and Sikorsky, Boeing and McDonnell Douglas too.”

The rest of the world refers to it as the night of the Academy Awards or the night of the Oscars.

In L.A. proper, the four-million or so people who won’t be walking on a red carpet refer to it as Sunday, and, depending on where they live, oftentimes, the night of the helicopters.

News copters, police copters, ABC show copters, rich people copters, and I’m guessing this year maybe even a few gate-crashing, camera-equipped drone copters trying to get a good shot of Jennifer Lopez’s cleavage, will fill the night sky across a large section of Los Angeles, creating havoc on the populace.

This annual sky-filled show actually starts slowly the day before when late-arriving big wigs land in private jets at LAX, Santa Monica or even Van Nuys and thwup-thwup their way across town to one luxe hotel or another to pre-party and pick up their tuxes, designer gowns and complimentary Botox or spray on hair treatments.  The smart ones, of course, have been in town for the past five months to partake in an orgy of award shows, culminating in Oscar’s big night.

On the big day, as regular folk are preparing their guacamole dip and Oscar ballots, a couple thousand lucky invitees will climb into freshly polished limousines and be whisked to the Dolby Theatre.  No doubt a few of the wealthiest would prefer to be air lifted directly to the red carpet on Hollywood Blvd. but there are pesky rules about helicopter rotors being in close proximity to cell-phone-picture-taking tourists. Continue reading Night of the Copters →