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If we could have read his
mind...
Gordon Lighfoot joined a cast of characters, including a psychic,
a criminal lawyer and a Latina firecracker, at a party in his honour
Gordon Lightfoot is combing his hair.
I'm in an elevator with the great, groovy geezer-crooner having coincidentally
arrived with him at a party
in his honour. He's flying solo. Looking swell. His lips, as always appear
as though they are fighting back a
ghastly grin.
When the elevator reaches its summit, Lightfoot sneaks
his comb into his back pocket - where else? - and
we stumble out to meet our host, the matchless Canadian PR man and celebrity
hand-holder Gino Empry.
"
My bartender hasn't shown up!" Empry exclaims almost by way of a
greeting. Lightfoot doesn't seem to
mind. Nor do any of the many other guests in Empry's party penthouse.
Parly a scene out of cafe society (the kind we don't see anymore), partly
an orgy of the golden-oldie
variety, the night some weeks back is filled with many familiar faces.
There's Dini Petty, who used to be
Canada's Oprah. There's Art Eggleton, who used to be Toronto's mayor. There's
Moses Znaimer, who used to be the Ruler of All.
With theatre-red curtains flanked by the winding windows, a panoramic view
of the city fills up before us,
including a close-up of the edgy Primrose Hotel- with the "e" in
the Primrose sign perilously burnt-out! There
is, inevitably enough, some zebra on the floor, some figurines from places
like Fiji and a Vegas-worthy
collection of showbiz knacks. In the library, for instance, every diva
is accounted for - Liz, Liza, Marilyn,
Nancy Reagan - and there is a tape and DVD for seemingly every significant
film of the last century.
(Curiously though, most of the DVDs are still intact in their bubble-wrap!)
There is song and what some might classify as dance. A woman who does a
dead-on Marlene Dietrich sings her lungs out, accompanied by a man
on the piano.The up-and-coming torch singer Serafin does his thing, wowing
us with his rendition of Etta James 'At Last'. The final performer is
less convincing all around. A Latina firecracker with a surfeit of
enthusiasm and an apparentl oveo f telenovelass, he really drives home
her act.
Like cream-cheese taking to a poppy seed bagel she does her thing while
slamming her rear many times into our dear dear Gino.( He half-looks like
he's enjoying it.)
Lightfoot doesn't utter a note. Why, after all, give away the milk for
free, especially when the legendary
singer is about to hit the concert circuit soon in an 11-city tour?
"
This is definitely not The Spoke," a friend of mine says at one point,
as we watch the room full of delightful
geeks and delicious freaks.
"
Yes, you might say it's the Anti-Spoke, " I reply instantly, thinking
right away of the privatem embers' club
downtown where, increasingly the crowd seems to consist of colour-inside-the-line
types with 2.2 kids,
women whose sole idea of adventure is Pilates and a vast solar system of
UCC grads. (Don't get me wrong: I like UCC grads. I just don't like too
many in one room!)
The party plugs along without much punctuation Lightfoot - who's separated
from his most recent wife -
shows us he still has a way with the ladies." I once had a weekend
in one night in Paris," he tells me at one
point. I can't exactly remember why.
Also there for the long haul that night is well-known criminal attorney
Calvin Barry. "If you ever need a
lawyer ..." he says to moi, handing me - and everyone else - a card'
And last but not least here is the quasi-famous Nikki Layne, Psychic to
the Stars - Gino's sometime consort-
in all her fortune-telling blonde beehive-sporting glory. If you could
read my mind? Well, yes, love, she could.
I SEE, I HEAR...
That MTV Canada honcho Brad Schwartz - the plucked from - New York progamming
boss who is the subject of some curiosity in TV circles - showed that he's
got his finger on the pulse during a party recently at The Beaconsfield
on Queen.
Bradley performed guest DJ duties at the dusky and trendy
bar when he was celebrating there with
members of his freshly assembled MW team. The pop-culture station - as they're
calling it - is set to storm
the airwaves Mar. 21.
AND ALSO ...
That an overly affectionate fan walked up to Clive Owen when he was
sitting at The Drake Hotel a few nights
back minding his own hubba-hubba business She got a little Closer whispered
something in his ear, and
then planted one on his lips before the star could get in a single
word. Then she bolted just as quickly.
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