Hitting the ground running, and running hard was the order of the day. Arriving to Beverly Hilton to only discover that Whitney Houston had died, the media surrounded you, the party that you came for hosted by Clive Davis was an uncertainty then on, and the buzz all over the place was about Whitney Houston.
The evening no one really eat, for me it was back to my stomping ground Mr. Chow and again this was a light affair. Richard Branson was in full party mode, and while a serious attempt to get the party going everyone was still reeling from the shock.
The Grammys was all about running around catching up with old friends. The Foo Fighters had been with me in Toronto at the Ritz Carlton one night so it was time to talk it up with them, my friend who looks after McLaren car which run you $750,000 base price, was putting on her Pucci dress and ready to hit the party of home town man Deadmau5 needless to say no food was consumed, but everything else was. Sleep, who needs sleep. After all will do plenty of sleep when I am dead so why bother, it’s over-rated anyway.
Jumping on the flight at crazy mad early hour, all I can now think of is home Toronto and grabbing a burger at Burger’s Priest in my old hood on Yonge and Lawrence where I grew up, made my first black and white movie and organized concerts.
The crew at Burger’s Priest is also cool, Alex there plays drums and is working on getting his band together, and it’s a spot where I always run into someone who’s gone to my high school Lawrence Park, not to mention that Shant Mardirosian, who started it is a cool dude. The food well, it’s simple and the burger’s are the best in town. Recording artist Jessica Mitchell who I interviewed prior to the Grammys say’s the bruger’s are great and soon you will meet another recording artist Megan Bonnell on My Name is Khan thinks these burgers are the bomb. The only time to sit is on the plane flight back catch up on some sleep and dream of landing and chowing the burger voted third best spot to eat a burger.