David Bowie Has Still Never Attended A State Dinner At The White House
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Lou and Vaclav
One of the "big" news stories yesterday was the State Dinner President Obama gave in honor of Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, who, like CNN's Sanji Gupta-- a guest-- is a doctor. 400 people were invited-- probably 200 + 1 each, but I'm not certain-- and it was in a heated tent on the lawn. I have a half-baked reason for telling the story of the state dinner I went to in September, 1998 but if it's too boring just skip to the bottom for the politically relevant point. The one I went to wasn't in a tent though.
My secretary buzzes me to say the White House is on the phone. "Is that that damn Daisy doing an imitation of President Clinton," I asked. "No, no," she said, "it's the office of the White Houses social director." Skeptical, I picked it up. I was listening to an advance CD of the next Chris Isaak album, Speak of the Devil
So a month or so later I was on the reception line cracking up President Clinton with an off-color joke and then sitting in the East Room next to Dick Lugar who was dancing in his seat to a red hot performance of Dirty Blvd. (Live Version)
Pedro lives out of the Wilshire Hotel
He looks out a window without glass
The walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet
His father beats him 'cause he's too tired to beg
He's got 9 brothers and sisters, they're brought up on their knees
It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs
Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man
but that's a slim chance he's going to the boulevard
He's going to end up, on the dirty boulevard
He's going out, to the dirty boulevard
He's going down, to the dirty boulevard
This room cost 2,000 dollars a month, you can believe it man it's true
Somewhere a landlord's laughing till he wets his pants
No one here dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything
they dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard
Give me your hungry, your tired your poor I'll piss on 'em
That's what the Statue of Bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses, let's club 'em to death
and get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard
Everyone was grooving out (Henry Kissinger, Ted Stevens, Eric Holder, Kurt Vonnegut, Jane Harman, Chuck Hagel and 2 generals, John Shalikashvili and my new pal, Henry Shelton, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff)-- not just Lugar-- and I kept wondering if anyone had any clue what the lyrics were. Clinton certainly didn't. He got up onstage and played his sax.
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And I still hate censors. So I wasn't especially overjoyed this morning, more than a decade later, to read that the vampiric lawyer who tried pinning a suicide on Judas Priest, Ken McKenna, is running for Congress-- as a "Democrat." The incumbent in NV-02 (basically the whole state minus the Las Vegas metro) is Republican Dean Heller and the DCCC had pretty much settled on an elderly former state legislator, Jack Schofield as his opponent. But, having once tasted fame, McKenna's making a grab for more. I wonder if the balloon boy will ever run for office. There's nothing about McKenna that sounds even vaguely Democratic. In fact, he sounds like an exceptionally reactionary Republican.
McKenna made a name for himself in the 1990s when he represented a Reno woman who unsuccessfully sued the heavy metal band Judas Priest claiming subliminal messages in their music led to her son's suicide.
McKenna said he will run on a platform of replacing the federal income tax with a sales tax. He said he's been battling the IRS for 10 years over a personal tax delinquency.
"Everyone pays sales tax with no loopholes, that's fair," McKenna said in his news release.
Alas, David Bowie wasn't invited to the White House:
OK, OK-- last night's menu:
Potato and Eggplant Salad
White House Argula with onion seed vinaigrette
2008 sauvignon blanc, Modus Oprendi, Napa Valley, California
Red lentil soup with fresh cheese
2008 Riesling Brooks "Ara" Wilamette Valley, Oregon
Roasted Potato Dumplings with tomato chutney
chick peas and okra
or
green curry prawns
carmelized salsify with smoked collard greens and coconut aged basmati
2007 granache, Beckman Vineyars, Santa Ynez, California
Pumpling Pie tart
pear tatin
whipped cream and caramel sauce
Sparkling Chardonay, Thibaut Janisson Brut, Monticello, Virginia
Petits Fours and Coffee
Cashew Brittle
Pecan Pralines
Passion Fruit and Vanilla Gelees
Chocolate dipped fruit
Guest Chef: Marcus Samuelsson, the celebrated chef/owner of Aquavit in NYC (my favorite Swedish restaurant) who was born in Ethiopia (as Kassahun Tsegie) and was adopted into a Swedish family in Gothenburg. He wrote The Soul of a New Cuisine: A Discovery of the Foods and Flavors of Africa.
Here are some photos from the event.
Labels: censorship, Lou Reed
6 Comments:
What did Lou have to say about the secretary thinking Clinton wanted to invite Lou Rawls? (I presume you told him the story!)
I don't think I mentioned it. But he does read this blog sometimes so he'll probably read about it.
All those clowns ignoring the meaning of the song. They woulda fit right in at the Palace of Versailles before the French Revolution.
The important thing is Vaclav Havel knew the lyrics, and together you pulled off a very subversive coup. Great story!
Any pictures of you at the event? Wearing a leather coat?
Bula, I was all dressed up fancy. But I never saw any photos of me at it.
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