Hot fun in the sun
Your superior correspondents managed to slip down to Palm Beach in time for Oprah’s garish celebration of poet Maya Angelou’s 80th birthday, followed immediately by the marriage of the atrocious Ivana Trump to some Italian developer with lots of lira and enough gold chains to tie down a battleship. Needless to say, your boys were right in our element.
We question why Maya Angelou would ever in a million years want her birthday party to take place at the unspeakable Donald Trump’s paean to bad taste, the Mar-A-Lago, with its 58 bedrooms, 33 bathrooms, 12 fireplaces, three bomb shelters, 20,000-square-foot ballroom, and, for this occasion, one parrot in a cage (presumably alive, Mr. Cleese) for the totemic tribute to “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.” (You’d squawk too, surrounded by that many hideous B-list celebs.)
P+J knew that Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley spent their 1994 honeymoon there, so we searched for the scratches on the inside of a specific bedroom, which we assumed would have been left by Lisa Marie as she tried to claw her way from wedding night with the Weirdest Man on Earth.
On to Powerball!
Your self-serving correspondents would like to point out how the Phoenix’s recent “On the Ball + Off the Wall” March Madness column managed not only to select Kansas, the winner of the hoops extravaganza, but that prognosticator Chip Young’s selections claimed the Phoenix’s in-house pool. It was just for fun, but we will nonetheless look for a free drink at Nick-A-Nee’s when the check clears.
I think I remember it well
P+J are not surprised that John “Dubya” McCain decided to call his barnstorming trip through his past the “Biography” tour, rather than “Autobiography” — for two simple reasons.
First, with a biography, you can work with people who can embellish and glorify all your past achievements — real or imagined — and minimize your obvious shortcomings.
Second, it is doubtful that McCain can still remember where he was and what he did back in the day, so some helpful reminders were probably welcome. (We could envision a hilarious This Is Your Life-style format for Johnny Mac, with host Regis Philbin surprising the senator by excitedly saying, “Remember your second grade teacher, Mrs. Owens?!?!” She’d appear from backstage, with McCain looking baffled and responding, “Uh, no. Who are you, honey?”)
No country for old men, indeed.
What a thrill to open the New York Times Arts & Leisure section from two Sundays ago and to see a feature on Richard Jenkins, one of America (and Vo Dilun’s) greatest thespians. He’s a real hero to local theater-lovers for his stint as creative director of Trinity Rep, when the venerable company was having difficulties. The piece was motivated by Tom (The Station Agent) McCarthy’s new film, The Visitor, in which Jenkins stars, and by all accounts, sparkles.
This past Sunday, the BeloJo ran another rave for Jenkins’s performance, from the Los Angeles Times, and P&J have seen effusive praise in Salon (“Jenkins is extraordinary”), on the Sundance Web site (“fantastic performance”), and in Rolling Stone (“Jenkins delivers a master class in acting. Oscar, take note”).
It’s nice to see the rest of the world picking up on something we Vo Dilunduhs have known for years. Now, Richard, don’t you tell any of these outsiders about coffee milk. We’ve got to keep some things secret.
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