Remember this term from the 80s? This was something Ronald Reagan promoted and George H.W. Bush called “voo doo” economics, and though it was fiercely debated in its time, I think we’ve realized thirty years later that we all believe in magic.
Many of us DO believe that if our government and economy encourage the current rich people to stay rich, we might one day be one of them or at the very least get invited to one of their parties. And I’ve got no trouble with that – a great party is a great thing. I still venture out in search of them all the time and try to host them whenever possible. But the challenge of a great party is making it great. One place where “trickle down” is absolutely true is in nightlife. Any good party stems directly from the inherent party power of its most gifted guests. Why are people still talking about Studio 54 and Woodstock? Because the anchor talent at those parties – no matter how diverse – could be depended on to bring the party when necessary.
So, what is truly the most tragic effect of reality tv and the now never-ending supply of vapid, average people who are considered celebrities? Their parties don’t “trickle down”.
What do Liza Minnelli, Mick Jagger and Mikhail Baryshnikov have in common? If they are called upon to rock the party, they actually can rock the party. A great party, like a great performance, is supposed to be life affirming. As you experience it, you are meant to feel part of something, meant to feel you understand what it means to be human, what it means to be yourself.
A bad party, like a bad performance, can bring on an existential crisis of epic proportions. When you are trapped in the grip of a party resting only the talents of a B list reality TV star, you find yourself instantly gripped by an onslaught of philosophical dilemmas conjured up into a toxic cocktail of Sociology 101, a few sick days in front of Dr. Phil, and that copy of “Power of Now” that someone loaned you three years ago.
Saint Bernadette and Father Touch ventured out beyond Bridgeport last night for a truly B-list experience – a record label party in a downtown loft, a “lingerie” themed-event with an open vodka bar, sponsored by Ed Hardy and complete with “appearances” by some people from Gossip Girl, the Real World, and some other shows on TV that I have never heard of. The experience of trying to rock at a party where a 20 year old girl in underwear is DJing imperceptible, melody-less music, while unrelated people jump around in underwear swilling free vodka, as a self-important short guy in an Ed Hardy bathrobe talks on the phone and smokes an “electric cigaratte” provoked a crisis that not even “existential” can describe. Only the promise of returning our beacon of hope and weirdness in the Park City kept us from stuffing the free Ed Hardy t-shirts down our throats and ending it all.
Listen! This is a matter of dire importance. Don’t let any more average people get control of entertainment and media. The difference between directing your attention at someone who deserves it is so profound, but yet so subtle that you can forget it exists at all. It’s much easier to forget the farther away you get from it. Do yourself a favor – don’t watch anything that is a parade of average people fighting each other about the minute details of their regular lives. You have your own life. Go rent a DVD of your favorite performer -whoever it is – Liza Minnelli, Frank Sinatra, David Bowie, Justin Timberlake, – even the Jonas Brothers (I mean, I hate the Jonas Brothers, but at least they work really hard and practice every day and have a great light show!). Remind yourself that only people who can really rock the party, can trickle down the party into your everyday life.
Happy Weekend!
