>Friday night, I went to an HBO Films / Premiere Magazine party being held all weekend at Soho 323 to coincide with the Tribeca Film Festival. Walking the red carpet is always fun, but I wonder if the photogs are just pretending to take my picture shoutin, “Over here! Look here! Big smile, squeeze in tight,” whilst thinking “This bitch is a nobody. I’m saving my film!” Fake flash, fake flash, get her into the party, end scene.
Mario Van Peebles was the big celeb attendee. Born in ’57, he didn’t let that stop him from “working it”. Surreal to watch a 50 year old black man dancing like a cowboy — he was just missing some hayseed. You’ve got to admire his stamina and ability to look hip and young at the same time. “Black don’t crack” indeed, my friend.
At some point, I think I would just get tired. For instance: Thursday night into Friday I had pulled an all-nighter, got to the Today Show by 6:30AM, put in a full day at work and then went to this party. But I’m only 32, and it practically killed me. I’m still recovering. For example, I only had sex three times this weekend. I must be losing it, and by “it” I mean my memory. I only remember doing it twice.
That pic of Mario freaks me out, too. He looks just like my dad if my dad were black, didn’t wear that hat and had a skinnier nostrils. I suppose he would have to shave that soul patch and maybe put his eyes closer together, but really . . . there is a resemblance. Trust me.*
Carol Burnett & Friends
I miss her and her friends. I watched about 8 hours of a 48 hour marathon on TVLand and marveled at how many I remembered and just how great her show was. Such good natured satire — clean fun. Twenty five years have flown by and I still love her like we just met yesterday. Fuck SNL.
*It’s the smile. Uncanny. But Mario’s smile is a bit wider and bigger and his bottom lip is different and my dad has more of a dimpled effect than the lines, but it is there, I’m telling you. Mario Van Peebles looks just like my dad!