There have been to may changes that I think some new owner (google) has about to make it so difficult to follow that I aimed to stop the post.. So sad, I have some much to report.

It was Gerry Kelly's birthday party last week that rocked the town.  As he was regarded on The Beach, The King of South Beach, was the usual gracious host.  God only knows....there were the late Nineties when he hosted Madonna, Donatella, and a bevy of stars at his clubs, Liquid and Level.  At Level, one night, I wore a tuxedo with a cloak of  ermine cape over it and a slight-of-build boyfriend in a mink vest when we spotted Gerry with a pack of stars.  He was so gracious to introduce ourselves to them and, when asked if we were having fun, I replied, "We are looking for Lifeboat Number One; I have a child with me, can you direct us?"

Later, Gerry asked me to work for him at Level, and it was what brought me to understand this town, how it works, and what is expected.  He was the most honest person I ever worked for.   So, a belated Happy Birthday to you.  I will never forget what you did and taught me, Gerry.

If there was anyone least likely to show up under the name of moderation, it would be Thomas Barker.

It was his birthday yesterday, and the evening began with the usual bacchanal of dining and drinking followed by a party at Mova. It has been a while since we have gone to Mova, and it was nice to see it crowded with a well-heeled young crowd and even more amazing that it has finally employed a bar staff that was actually friendly (one of the big obstacles for the loyalty of the locals in the past).  Barker, as usual was in fine form, and even Carl Zablotney showed up; he just left his job as Chief of Staff for the mayor to take a job in Las
Vegas with an airline.  Call me Miss Cleo, but I predict free airline tickets in the future.

Her Serene Highness (the former Baroness) Seitzinger returned from her two week journey to the heartland. Even Mrs. Styvesant-Fish lamented the loss of someone we never stopped picking upon.

Although I do not look upon myself as an opportunist, I could not notice the fact that her family commanded endless acres of seemingly healthy corn. I hosted a small well-come back lunch for her, but (with the promise of endless corn), I am hosting a formal, sit-down dinner for Her Serene Highness. As we all know, corn is the new gold.

It has been a tough two weeks. Mr. Astor was taken to the hospital with what was seemingly a heart attack, but turned out to be a sever acid reflux that started to eat away his esophagus. Two weeks later, he was finally released; thankfully he got the proper treatment and, more thankfully, I didn't have to take the long bus ride to the hospital every day. He's doing well, but has to moderate his behavior. That's the big elephant in the room.

Meanwhile, Her Serene Highness (the former Baroness) Seitzinger escaped town to her country estate in Nebraska. Poor thing, all her friends are gay Republicans and could not even consider walking anything but ten steps behind her gayness. I tried to explain that this was something she should relish; ever Prince Phillip has to walk a certain number of steps behind Elizabeth. She couldn't even expect one step behind here, unless her companions were drunk. Here she has a poolside cocktail with one of the few creatures who understand her: Bad Taste.