By Amy Silverman
By Olivia LaVecchia
By Monica Alonzo and Stephen Lemons
By Chris Parker
By Michael Lacey
By Weston Phippen
The Spike doesn't get out much, so the last two weeks have been a whirlwind.
Let's just say that there could not be two more different book parties. From appearances, every single liberal in metropolitan Phoenix jammed into the Marquee Theatre the night of October 23, fighting crowds to park, cramming onto folding chairs and waving copies of Franken's book, Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right, to get the guy to call on them during the Q&A. The former Saturday Night Live star was hilarious, grabbing his crotch in his own imitation of President Bush (you had to be there) and admitting he's not ruling out a run for public office. Proceeds went to a charity established in the name of Paul Wellstone, the U.S. senator from Minnesota who died in a plane crash last year.
The Birkenstocked crowd at the Marquee contrasted sharply with the well-heeled ladies (and a few gents) who lunched at the Phoenician the next Saturday. It was all for a very good cause -- to prevent kidney disease -- but no one could explain why do-gooders giving up a perfectly pleasant Saturday morning and afternoon to come to a fund-raising luncheon have to, year in and year out, listen to that dork Pat McMahon emcee the event. The Spike cringes in embarrassment every year, when the guy The Spike knows as Gerald tries to make jokes in front of luminaries like Peter Jennings. Whatever. This year Jennings stayed home and the lineup featured four authors. The Spike had only heard of one of them, and slept through the first two. The third, a romance novelist named Sandra Brown, has authored something like 50 books. Yikes. The Spike woke up to listen to her. She wasn't a bad speaker. But the highlight of the day, aside from some really good people-watching (The Spike is now seriously considering plastic surgery, as well as some knee-high black suede go-go boots), was Mitch Albom, author of Tuesdays With Morrie, who was pimping a new book that sounded pretty cheesy but still had most of the ladies welling up over their Godiva chocolates. Even The Spike got a little misty.
(Note to the organizers of the luncheon: You have Jana Bommersbach's name spelled wrong in the program under the list of past authors.)
The Spike must admit to feeling a pang, remembering that spread at the Phoenician, when faced, a few days later, with a rubbery chicken breast swimming in what looked like Thousand Island dressing, over at the Sheraton off I-17 and Dunlap. Yes, of course, it was a political fund raiser. A roast of almost-Mayor Phil Gordon sponsored by the Stonewall Democrats, the counterpart to the Log Cabin Republicans (read: gay).
Seemed to The Spike that every Democrat in town -- gay and straight -- was at the event, along with a couple of Republicans, including über-slick lobbyists Mike Williams and Brian Tassinari and the newest member of the Phoenix City Council, Tom Simplot.
The highlight of The Spike's evening was a conversation with Governor Janet Napolitano, who gave the keynote speech. The speech was witty and inspired, and so was The Spike's tête-à-tête with the governor, who looks absolutely fabulous. Governing clearly agrees with Napolitano, who is downright skinny. Is that a new hairdo?
The governor split early, but she didn't miss much. The roast of Gordon was only lukewarm. Arizona Democratic party chair Jim Pederson (The Spike hears he's planning to challenge U.S. Senator Jon Kyl next time around) was okay, but as with so many Democrats, he was too nice. The best was Billy Shields, king of the Phoenix firefighters and all-around good guy, who imitated John McCain imitating Gordon's sloppy fashion sense. That was pretty funny, even though Phil Gordon is one of the best-dressed politicians The Spike knows, thanks to his wife. Most of the other jokes centered on Gordon's poor driving and love of coffee and chocolate, and just a little about the difficulty he has making decisions. (Before the roast, one wag suggested going onstage with a piece of a fence and straddling it, to make the point.)
The real clunker was the last roaster of the evening, State Senator Ken Cheuvront. Cheuvront inadvertently roasted himself, by spending almost all of his time telling all of the political movers and shakers in town just exactly how hard he tried to get his close-personal-friend Phil Gordon to bend city rules for Cheuvront's just-opened wine bar on Central Avenue.
In case you're wondering, that was not funny at all. But Gordon's response, in which he promised/threatened to assign several members of the Phoenix Police Department to "watch" the wine bar, was hilarious.
The very next day, The Spike attended another big-ticket -- as in $125 a ticket -- event: the Cronkite luncheon. Somewhere along the way, someone convinced Walter Cronkite that it would be a good idea to put his name on the journalism school at Arizona State University. They probably did it by promising to hold a luncheon every fall -- at a perfect venue, like the Arizona Biltmore, with perfect weather, like the temps last Thursday -- to honor some other journalist Cronkite really likes, and say really nice things about Cronkite himself for a couple of hours.