Dear George:
PRINT
DISCUSS
E-MAIL
RSS
RECOMMEND...
Facebook
MySpace
Mixx
Digg
Reddit
del.icio.us
Furl
Ma.gnolia
Sphere
StumbleUponBe careful with those compliments. My good friend Matt Drudge, who is a gift to American journalism and a credible contender for the Nobel Peace Prize, has been reading our exchanges this week and he tells me he has concluded that we sound like two suck-ups sucking up to each other. The only thing that would probably repel Drudge more—and perhaps even cause him to jump shrieking through the plate-glass window of his beachfront Miami penthouse—is if the other George, the aforementioned mop-topped ABC star, were somehow involved in this epistolary love-fest.
Speaking of whom, I have to fall on my sword, or better yet use it to disembowel an evildoer, over my mistake today on the location of Bubba's chance encounter with the diminutive young demigod. Death to Michelle's Kitchen! When my assistant Barbara Martinez phoned at deadline last night to ask if Bill Clinton had lunched there, the manager said: "Yeah, he was here." That was a flat-out lie! It was, of course, Michael's, as I should gave guessed. At least I had the location of the Lucianne encounter right.
And yes, I might have jumped the gun on reporting the difficult pregnancy of Alexandra Wentworth, and I certainly would not have done so if asked—but I'm glad she seems to be doing well and I look forward to the exclusive baby pictures in Hello! magazine.
By the way, did you catch the 4,000-word epic in the Los Angeles Times on the Vanity Fair party—or "the mystique-laden Oscar night gathering," as the authors described it? Replete with such riveting passages as: "By late February, the details have been agreed upon: Glass bricks imported from London. Dutch tulips flown in from the Netherlands. Lighters and ashtays embossed with the Vanity Fair logo …" You would think they were describing the preparations for the Second Continental Congress. And how could anyone top the deliciousness of: "In such rarefied company, the rooms feels safe, says Suzanne Somers. 'You get to feel normal, everybody is so famous.' "?
Well, I better get going. I hope to be hitting the Thigh Master especially hard to get buff for shorts-wearing season. In the meantime, keep the faith, and I will try to do the same. My best to your lady.
Regards,
Lloyd
Nine Is So Weird, You Should Probably Go See It
How Will Michael Jackson's Death Change Music?
What Jenny Sanford Wrote in Obama's Facebook News Feed
The 12 Best Cheeses To Serve at Christmas
Oops—I Forgot I Was Piloting This Plane
Can You Believe What Joe Biden Said This Week?
Reader Comments From The Fray:
Let's face facts, all this stuff about terrorists, the Middle East, Enron, Northern Ireland, and the mid-term elections is kind of a downer. Finally, Slate has bravely put forth two people who write about celebrities. I mean I like politics and foreign affairs as much as the next guy, but this has been a long stretch without a lot of humor. Finally, the "Breakfast Table" addresses the real issues: Is Russell Crowe a thuggish alcoholic, do movie people act as badly as we hope they do, and do gossip reporters feel like badly dressed party crashers? Apparently, the answer to all these questions is yes. I for one hope this exchange continues into an exploration of the sexual relationships between famous married people and relatively attractive starlets. By exploration I mean naming names and the reactions of the betrayed spouses. Onward, no more international bummers, and drinks for everyone.
--Neill Hamilton
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
Everybody bitches about the speeches going on too long, but this isn't the problem. We want to see people who are happy to receive the award. It's part of the reward itself to get a multi-million-person captive audience for a minute or two. No, the Oscars seemed to run long this year because the running time was fueled by the Academy's own filmmaking: the innumerable montages, tributes, and other "entertainment" that looks for all the world like it was inserted to pad out the ceremony time-wise. We could do without three honorary awards with a montage each. We could probably get by without the circus acts, the meaningless pre-recorded comments, and the insider's walks down memory lane.
Or could we? I was entertained by all these things, and would regret seeing them go. I like the idea that the academy hold reverence for people I've never heard of because they were behind-the-scenes. If you get bored easily, don't watch; or wait until the next day when it's all boiled down to more manageable chunks of highlights. If you want to see what the Academy wants to offer, then by all means do so--but get ready to hunker down
--Mangar
(To find or answer this post, click here.)
(3/26)