The 41-Year-Old Twilight Virgin
It will come as no surprise to most that author Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series isn’t written for or marketed toward those with a Y chromosome. As I posses this bit of human DNA, I haven’t made a tremendous effort to read these enormously successful novels. Aside from skimming the jacket covers, my knowledge of these stories mostly revolved around the fact that one of the main characters, a pale and brooding teen named Edward, drove himself around town in a Volvo.
I have to admit I love the irony Ms. Meyer wrote into Edward. Here’s a kid that’s immortal yet chooses to tool around in the safest car made. In the books, Ed drives an S60 R. So the kid is safe but also has a wild side. That’s interesting. He’s also not into pre-marital sex. As the father of a young girl who will some day be a doe-eyed Ed lover, I can respect this kid.
So I’m sure you’re wondering how I know Edward isn’t into pre-marital wrestling if I haven’t read the books. That’s because last week I attended the world premiere of Eclipse, the third movie installment in the series. I was on-hand with my colleague, Kate Rehill, to host the winner of a Volvo sweepstakes contest. Sandy Deuel-Weiks, 57, of Howard City, Mich., and her sister, Sharon Ary of Rockford, Mich., were the lucky winners of a trip to Los Angeles, a couple of nights at a swanky Beverly Hills hotel, two tickets to the premiere and a parking spot along the black carpet (it was a vampire thing, I suppose).
Sandy was interviewed by her hometown TV station – WZZM-TV out of Grand Rapids, Michigan – who was there to cover the phenomenon. Check out the link below.
http://www.wzzm13.com/life/programming/local/take_five/take_five_story.aspx?storyid=123193&catid=205
To be honest, I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope for a great night. What do I care about smoldering teen passions, computer generated werewolves and 2,000 screaming “Twi-hards?” I was curious, however, to see Ed racing around in an XC60 – the S60 R was out of production by the time filming began of the first movie so the brooder was relegated to a C30, then the XC60 for the second and third movies.
I’d like to say I remained cool and aloof, even brooding. But I fell victim to the hysteria of the evening. You just can’t help but get swept up in it all when the stars begin pouring out of their Escalades and limousines. The fans, erupting into high-pitched wails a Valkyrie would be envious to emulate, nearly broke down the barriers when the brooder effortlessly slithered from the dark confines of his hearse-like ride. Ed was generous with his time, stopping every few feet to sign something or kiss a hand or cause some poor girl to all but faint.
It was about this time I heard a man screaming. He sounded a lot like a teenaged girl, but with an unsettling baritone voice.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s….it’s….it’s Ron Artest!”
It was then that I realized I was the unsettling sounding man. But can you blame me? Not more than five feet away stood an NBA champion.
I stood there pointing at Ron, my mouth agape. I stumbled over the velvet rope and nearly accosted the poor man. “Can I get a picture? Can I get a picture? Please, Mr. Artest. Just one!” The pleading in my voice sounded pathetic. But I couldn’t stop myself. Fortunately, Ron was cool. He shook my hand and put his arm on my shoulder and I stood there acting like a fool. He thanked me for being a fan and moved on down the line of reporters.
At that moment I became a huge Twilight fan.
An hour later I was sitting in row ZZZ of the cavernous Nokia Theater with 9,000 other folks who were somehow involved in Eclipse. Ed brooded and sulked and was always a gentleman to Bella as he zipped around Forks in his XC60. I have to say, the Volvo looked pretty damn hot.
James
