Papa Bear Bloomberg gave a “Made in New York” party on Gracie Mansion lawn. Barring 4-inch heels clamping into grass so our bunions emerged in Shanghai, it was great.
John Leguizamo: “I’m presenting posthumously to NYC moviemaker Sidney Lumet.” He pronounced it “Lumay.” Being of high-class breeding, I didn’t mention he screwed up the name. He said, “I’m getting an award, too. It’s because I’m the absolute best.” Being high-classly bred I didn’t mention what else he could do.
Fellow awardee Matt Damon: “I’m making another film this fall in New York.” I said, enough already with you. Every movie I see seems to star Matt Damon. You have to live in Bulgaria to find a picture Matt’s not in. “Not my fault,” he grinned. “I’m a poor man. Give me a break. I have to work. Four kids to feed.”
Movie/TV commissioner Katherine Oliver introduced me to awardee Lauren Zalaznick, who heads NBC Universal Women, Bravo, Oxygen, Telemundo. “Telemundo’s TV’s fastest growing network,” she said. “Faster than anything else. One million ages 18-49 prime time viewers because many Latinos live here. I’m now learning Spanish.”
Two black SUVS arrived. The lead car carried shirtsleeved Mayor Bloomberg, who donned his jacket immediately. “What kind of food we having?” asked our city’s emperor. “Hamburgers? I love hamburgers. Melon’s has good ones.”
Discussing hamburgers brought up hot dogs, which brought up Weiner. Said our liege: “Notice, nobody’s defended Anthony. Like Spitzer, he had no friends. Weiner should have owned up right away. But, listen, the public quickly forgets. Half don’t even remember Monica Lewinsky. In Sao Paolo recently, they’d forgotten Goldman Sachs’ chairman Lloyd Blankfein, who contributed to our financial crisis.
“I think some of these people do things like that just because they’re bored.”
So why don’t they just take up Scrabble?
“I don’t know. I don’t play Scrabble,” replied our sovereign, who then decided enough of me and walked away.
NOMINEE Nina “Born Yesterday” Arianda wearing Badgley Mischka at the Tony Awards . . . Brooklyn’s Larry King did a radio ad for Brooklyn’s Barclay Center and Nets tickets . . . Confucius saying to Rep. Anthony Weiner: “Sex like bridge. If no good partner, better have a good hand.” . . . Janeane Garofalo on the wonders of Botox: “I must say I was impressed with that line between my eyebrows disappearing.”
TONY nominee Beth Leavel, up for Best Musical Performance in “Baby It’s You!”: “I’m from Raleigh, and this is a long way from my start because I got my degree in social work,” she says. “I did high school musicals and theater work at the University of North Carolina, where the light bulb went off in my head. New York terrified me, but I came here in 1982. Actually social-work training helped because actors need counseling. You must learn to be diplomatic in rehearsals. Even now, in an audition, it helps me through the front door.
“The morning of the nominations I tried to make myself sleep. I went to bed 1 a.m. I woke 4 a.m. Got up 4:10. Then it was 4:27 . . . then 5 o’clock. I just lay there. In bed. By myself. The nomination meant acceptance. I suddenly felt validated. Like an out-of-body experience, I was numb. Floating. My bones sent out signals. The producers sent flowers and cards. I guess if I was really that terrific I’d have gotten a bonus. But even if I don’t win, it feels almost like a bonus.
“New designer Jovani Couture picked me and let me take five gowns. I’m size 4. One was a 2, but I couldn’t sit down or breathe. I selected sleeveless cranberry chiffon, side slit of lace, rhinestones on right waist to the hip. Shoes I have. I’ll add my mother’s diamond bracelet. To bling it up, I’ll put on a fake diamond ring from the show.”
Beth, who won a Tony for “The Drowsy Chaperone” years back, carts her statuette “from dressing room to dressing room. It makes field trips. The cast puts it in their hands. Takes pictures of it.”
And what’s up for her next?
“Nothing. I haven’t anything in view. I don’t know what’s happening after this.”
SAME day of his “I’m sorry . . . I’m a bad boy” confession, Weiner walked west on 52nd and Sixth. Alone. But didn’t stay alone. Pedestrians with camera phones followed behind, alongside, in front, snapping pictures of him.
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.