The mayoral maybes are working it. Sal Albanese is hitting a gym to lose the pasta. John Catsimatides already lost 15 pounds. Sal wants to decriminalize marijuana. John wants to bring a World’s Fair here. “It’s our last one’s 50th anniversary. We have 55 million tourists yearly. Do it with river boats in five boroughs. I told Bloomberg he should be chairman. If not, maybe Clinton or Realtor Steve Roth?”
I’m up to my knife and fork in candidates. This weekend dinner with Catsimatidis. Asian food. Midtown Manhattan. This weekend dinner with Albanese. Bay Ridge Italian restaurant. Sal walked from his nearby home. John got chauffeured from his nearby home.
And front-runner Christine Quinn? Heavy-duty female power is behind NYC’s Council Speaker. Already it’s 1,000 on her Women for Chris Committee. Partly they’re barfing over greasy Weiner’s newest yen, City Hall. Before his pants go condo, they’d like to stick weinie Weiner in a rotisserie with other hot dogs and grill him. And partly it’s that pain of Hillary’s loss they’re not eager to experience again. Hell hath no fury like a petticoat scorned.
SEN. Charles Schumer gets around. Friday he and the missus supped and sipped at Il Cantinori . . . Michael Jackson’s singer niece Tanay and NY Jets’ Bret Lockett, formerly in Kim Kardashian’s playpen, are making music together. Or making something. Whatever, they were at Benjamin Steakhouse last week . . . Bruce Littlefield clicked onto the TV guide and found “60 Minutes” still lists Andy Rooney, who left us in 2011.
IN 1989, Chazz Palminteri wrote and performed his one-man play “A Bronx Tale.” In 1993, it became a film by Chazz Palminteri, starring Chazz Palminteri, directed by Robert De Niro. Now, full circle, it’s reviving as a Broadway musical. Chazz is doing the lyrics. De Niro’s doing the directing. Tommy Mottola’s doing the producing. Chazz says we won’t get it for another two years but, meanwhile, just to keep things neat, he’s doing it upstate this summer — once again as his original one-man show.
KARINA Smirnoff. Not a bottle of vodka. Won second with Mario Lopez on Season 3’s “Dancing With the Stars.” Season 4 with Billy Ray Cyrus. Season 5, boxer Floyd Mayweather. Season 7 bounced to ninth place with chef Rocco DiSpirito.
Season 8, eliminated Round 4 with Apple’s co-founder Steve Wozniak. Season 11 was The Situation. Knocked off in Week 4. Season 12, she and actor Ralph Macchio hit semifinals. Season 13 she beat competitor Rob Kardashian of whose relatives you may have heard.
She says: “Mario was a good partner, but I had to teach him. You need to find the right approach and get these guys information fast. Mario’s used to working hard. He’s used to the camera. Anyone whose name ends in Z is great to dance with.
“International ballroom dancing is a big world existing 100 years. I’m from the Ukraine. We arrived ’93 and couldn’t afford dinner every night. I cleaned hair salons because we hadn’t a dollar. I’ve worked every day since I’m 14. In ’97, I got citizenship in some Manhattan downtown office.
“A professional ballroom dancer, I dance for a living. It’s the best workout. I like the gym. Yoga, Pilates. I teach fitness classes. Eat healthy — eggwhites, spinach, Greek yogurt. Munch watermelon slices. Pineapple and carrots from a container. It’s diuretic. All good. All comes out.
“I’m super nervous every week, but adrenaline’s welcome. Exciting emotion helps. Season 16 was wardrobe malfunctions, falls, injuries. I’ve hurt myself. Fallen on my butt. It’s ice, hot therapy, cortisone shot, and stretching.”
On posing naked for Playboy: “By Day 3, I felt liberated. I love experiencing my body. There’s a difference between sex and nudity. It’s how your body works, not just showing your body. And I’m not going to be this age the rest of my life. I don’t wax because I had laser hair removal, and I use lots of moisturizer because spray tans look gorgeous, but they’re drying.
“I hope to be on this show as long as it’s on the air. I hope it never ends.”
RUMOR is the Enquirer’s David Pecker is a maybe to head Time Inc.
He’s not a nice man. I don’t like this person. My husband, Joey Adams, had a longtime column of jokes in one of his supermarket magazines. In the late ’90s, Joey was dying. Hour by hour he did less. Left to cheer him only was that little weekly column, which stayed snappy thanks to the help of others who treasured us. Joey had only months to live when this unlovely unloyal uncaring man fired him.
He knew the situation. Knew Joey’s end was near. It was only weeks away. I even phoned and asked please just let this little slim sliver of a column — for no money — continue. He said no. And fired him. And broke what was left of my husband’s heart.
And this Time Inc. wants to celebrate?
HE: “Let’s do it on a Central Park bench.” She: “Why? Is love a many splintered thing?”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.