pop culture, reviewed

For the last couple of years, Molly and Caroline and I have gotten together in New York in early spring to see shows, eat and drink, get rejected from VH1 game shows, and mostly just enjoy each other’s company.  Our third annual anniversary weekend commenced this past Friday and, as usual, hijinks and celebrity sightings ensued.

 We kicked off the weekend with Lucinda Williams at Radio City Music Hall.  Heartless Bastards opened — I really like their album All This Time  and they were good live.  Lucinda was great, even though she didn’t play my two favorites (“Metal Firecracker” and “Those Three Days”).  I’ll tell you what, though — Radio City has incredible acoustics.  We were on the front row of the third mezzanine (in other words, way up there) and it sounded like Lucinda was standing right in front of us.  I was impressed.  It was also just fun to be in a landmark like Radio City. 

After the concert we went to the Spotted Pig to eat a delicious burger, and wound up sitting in the upstairs area that I had preciously believed was a VIP section.  After we were seated there, we considered the possibility that maybe it was the place where they hide away the unfabulous.  We did really enjoy watching the other table that was seated in there with us, though.  It was five young men straight out of Entourage — one of them had a hoodie on and didn’t appear to be verbal.  He was clearly the Turtle of the group.   A couple of the others had on baseball caps and lots of bling.  We thought, hmmm, maybe the Spotted Pig is snooty and racist and they stuck the non-famous girls (us) and the black guys (them) away in the curtained-off area.  Then we noticed the guys’ diamonds, and that the waiter brought them at least a couple of rounds “on the house,” and that they were seated immediately upon arrival,  and so then we thought maybe the guys weren’t wannabe rappers after all but were actual hip-hop stars.  Then one of the guys handed his iPod to our waiter and the waiter started playing it over the restaurant speakers.  Surely not just anyone can request such a thing?  I don’t know my rap stars, though.  It wasn’t Kanye or Jay-Z or Luda and I don’t know anyone else.  If you read on Gawker Stalker that some hip-hop star and his entourage were at the Spotted Pig on Friday, please let me know, because we dined with them. 

On Saturday, after the unidentified rap star encounter, we were rewarded with what may be my favorite celebrity sighting to date:  Chloe Sevigny.  This was an interesting one for a couple of reasons:  (1) people say I look like her, and (2) she was wearing bloomers with tights under them.  Bloomers!  Little tiny bloomers like they were shorts!  With tights!  It was wonderful.  You see all these pictures of her wearing crazy weird clothing and then, lo and behold, there she is, moseying down the street in bloomers.  (“Moseying” is an accurate description, too.  She was in no hurry.)

On Sunday, Caroline and Elizabeth and I went to see Spring Awakening, along with Matthew Lillard, who is very cute in person but leaned against the wall of the theater during intermission like he wanted people to see him.  The play was good:  I loved the first act, loved all the music, did not love some of the more gratuitous aspects of the play, and was slightly disappointed with the obvious and formulaic ending. 

 Seriously, though.  We need to know who the rapper at the Spotted Pig was.  Any ideas would be much appreciated but I guess “rapper with bling and entourage” doesn’t really provide a helpful description.