An Emmy of the People

I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to wear to the Emmy Awards.

Black tie? OK, that means a tux. But what else? Black shirt? Ruffles? A bow tie? One of those gaucho bolo things? A nose ring? A little AIDS ribbon on my lapel? A “Warren Beatty for President” pin? I’m no good at this fashion stuff. I don’t know Giorgio Armani from Junior Soprano.

But I’d better pick an outfit soon.

And so should you.

Because now you can go to the Emmys too, two weeks from tonight. You can walk up the red carpet. You can wipe your feet on it, for all I care. You can wave to the TV cameras and the crowd. You can say “Hi, Mom.” You can say something worse to Mom, for all I care.

You’re an invited guest.

All you have to do is telephone (213) 236-2361 and tell somebody, “I want to go to the Emmys.”

You don’t have to be a member of some academy. You can be a plumber from Pomona, a butcher from Bakersfield, a caterer from Arcadia or a casket maker from Costa Mesa; it doesn’t matter.

They’ll let you in.

Just dress nice, behave yourself, don’t boo the actors and don’t do the wave in the balcony.

*

Why hasn’t an average Tom or Dick or Harry been able to buy a ticket to an Oscar or Grammy or Emmy program? Why keep us out? It’s a TV show, not a stockholders’ convention.

Here we are, practically in the heart of Hollywood, but what do we get to go see? Monster truck shows, tar pits and Frederick’s of Hollywood brassiere museums.

Show me the glamour.

OK, so we’re not all in the industry. We don’t play football, either, but we can still go to a Super Bowl.

Well, finally, somebody gets this. Kathy Schloessman gets it. She is president of the Los Angeles Sports & Entertainment Commission, and she has done a superb job for the last couple of years in keeping us the entertainment capital of the world. (Lord knows we sure aren’t the sports capital.)

“We take a lot of pride in having three great events here: the Academy Awards, the Grammys and the Emmys,” says Schloessman, who has helped keep New York’s grubby hands off our little statuettes.

“Up to now, though, we’ve never been able to offer them to the public per se.”

That began to change in 1998, when the Emmys were moved from Pasadena to the 6,000-seat Shrine, which holds up to twice as many people.

(Even extra-large people, like newspaper columnists and that actress from “The Practice.”)

A year ago, the Shrine’s spacious balcony ended up half-empty. It was as wide open as a matinee of “Eyes Wide Shut” on a weekday in Idaho.

The commission came up with a concept.

First, put aside 1,000 tickets.

The remainder could go to TV people who need to be there. Like employees of HBO, which has, I believe, 5,000 nominees for Emmys this year.

Next, offer the public a package:

(a) Two Emmy balcony seats;

(b) Two nights at a hotel;

(c) Two tickets to a party;

(d) Two tickets to a Dodger game.

OK, so a, b and c are a tad better than d.

It’s still a cool deal. For $499 per person, you get to spend a couple of nights at a participating hotel, get two seats at a Dodgers-Mets game-- Editor’s note: The Mets aren’t bad--get free shuttle transportation to the Emmys, attend the show, then get taken to a post-Emmy party at 7th and Figueroa for free food and a live performance by Edwin McCain, singer of the hot single, “I Could Not Ask for More.”

Go on, ask for more.

“There’ll be a few extra surprises too,” Schloessman says.

Like?

“Like a few celebrities or a few celebrity impersonators. For example, we might have a Joan Rivers impersonator interviewing the guests as they arrive for the party.”

I’d enjoy that. I would rather be interviewed by a Joan Rivers impersonator than by Joan Rivers. The real Rivers would want to know who designs my clothes . . . and why.

Just in case some Emmy-goers can’t do the hotel part, Schloessman says, there might also be a $300 package for just an Emmy ticket and the party. Everything is first come, first served.

The show is live at 5, but not telecast until that night at 8. So guests can watch it again at the party.

Maybe I’ll see myself on TV, along with all the other celebrity impersonators.

*

Not being an actor, the only thing I don’t know is how to act at an acting awards show.

Should I act enthusiastic? If, say, Jenna Elfman, the co-host, gets off a good line, should I guffaw and slap my knee, in case a TV camera is on me? Should I shout out expressions like “You the man!”--even to the women?

Or should I act sophisticated? Clap with six fingers, the way some stars do?

My big fear is if a TV fan or a TV reporter sees me walk up the red carpet and yells, “Are you anybody?”

Do I say I’m somebody who bought a ticket?

Nah. I’ll just sign the autographs, ignore the media.

Mike Downey’s column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Write to him at Times Mirror Square, Los Angeles, CA 90053. E-mail:

mike.downey@latimes.com.