| Subject: gala piece |
| From: Barrett Brown <barriticus@gmail.com> |
| Date: 4/24/09, 18:44 |
| To: Christopher Koulouris <christopher@scallywagandvagabond.com> |
Though it took me a while to figure this out, I have finally come to understand that the event-related press releases which get sent to reporters in this town are not really intended to have any relationship to actual reality, but are rather something more akin to Dadaist performance art, signifying nothing concrete. The release for Thursday evening's Operation Smile benefit gala, for instance, admonished reporters to check in no later than 6:15 pm, and thus it was that I rushed to Capitale, the Bowery's most pleasantly posh ballroom venue, in order to arrive at 5:50, at which time I was informed that media would be let in at 6:30. Accordingly, the scheduled segments the red carpet entrance and such were all conducted somewhat later than scheduled. One would think that this sort of thing would result in chaos or confusion, but it somehow never does.
Outside, the media milled about (Incidentally, I was pleased to see several grizzled old photographers of the sort one sees depicted in movies from the 1950s, as one rarely sees such a specimen these days; they and their counterparts across the media have been almost entirely replaced by members of the twenty-something creative class, the nomadic army which makes its operational headquarters in Williamsburg, which is now set to colonize Bushwick, and which maintains notable zones of occupation in such places as Austin, Texas). Concurrently, several non-media types attempted to get inside with varying degrees of success. A large WASP in a nice suit, told that he would have to wait a few minutes before going in, was of the contrary opinion that he could indeed go in right then, and he proved himself right by walking right past the doorman, who followed him before returning outside. Presumably, Large WASP In a Suit was able to make quick contact with whatever event organizer or other person of influence could confirm that Large WASP in a Suit was a very special WASP indeed and was allowed or even required to be inside. Be assured that I am just as disappointed as you are with how that story turned out.
Eventually, the doors were opened, as is often the case with doors. Inside, the photographers set up in front of the little setup whereby attendees, particularly the more famous among them, were supposed to stand in front of the big banner-thingy to be photographed and then subsequently interviewed. I would imagine that there several technical or even laymen terms for all of these things, but I can't figure out what they may be. At any rate, I skipped out on most of the celebrities but did speak with Jermaine Browne, the celebrated choreographer who plies his art for Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and the like, and who's currently preparing Ana Vissi for her upcoming European tour which kicks off in Greece this summer. He's also a very pleasant fellow, whereas I usually imagine choreographers as being assholes or at least very impatient. Perhaps they are only impatient with dancers.
By and by, the other hundred or so attendees began to arrive, and the photographers circulated among the crowd; within half an hour, there appeared to be something like one journalist for every four guests. I myself was twice asked if I would allow myself to be photographed, most likely because I was dressed in a suit and drinking wine and otherwise behaving like somebody who was actually invited to the party.
By this time, incidentally, I was no longer worried that the event would be sullied by under-dressed attendees, as is so often the case these days in a New York where formal attire is under perpetual attack by our most rising generation. The only departure from suits and tuxedos was one gay fellow who looked like a shorter version of Andrew Sullivan and who was wearing an outfit consisting of jeans, a black vest, a pink shirt, and another lime green shirt one underneath the pink one. But everyone gives considerate leeway to stylish gay men who bend the rules or break them altogether insomuch as that they have served as a constant source of innovation in fashion and should thus be allowed to continue to lead the way and incubate trends as they see fit, sort of like the manner in which China permits Hong Kong to operate a purely capitalist economy.
Aside from the preponderance of
wealthy something-or-others in attendance, there were also quite a
few teenage children of these wealthy something-or-others present,
including quite a few 16-year-old boys who were behaving much better
than I would have as a sixteen-year-old boy forced to attend a gala.
In fact, they even seemed to be enjoying themselves. I do not
understand why this is. At any rate, the 16-year-old girls were in
their element; I saw two of them, perhaps teen celebrities of some sort, being filmed by an equal number of
television cameras as they stood chatting about whatever it is that
girls talk about when they're being filmed by television cameras
while pretending not to notice.
After my third glass of wine, I considered making some fake bids on the thousand-dollar handbags that were on display as part of the silent auction going on in the center of the room, but then decided against it. There is something about being among the almost universally well-dressed that compels good behavior. Perhaps that's why the 16-year-old boys were keeping out of trouble.