The Gaytes.

Leigh, first of all, that Telemundo number was hysterical. I refuse to debate this with you (even though you paid me a v.v. sweet phone call on Monday, you little cherub)... It was hilarious. I mean, the set didn't move when it was supposed to, trapping Jennifer "Strong Island" Lopez in the shadows. Awesome. In all honesty, if Kanye West had suffered an angel wing malfunction and fallen onto a sharp tack, I'd have liked it better too. Self-righteous jerk (him, not you). Though I do offer big props to Matt Wiegle for pointing out that Kanye's number was a paean to Coolio's live production for "Gangster's Paradise." Meh, maybe I'll let it slide.

The weather in New York yesterday was so transcendently perfect that I couldn think of nothing better to do than spend an hour, mid-day, with my coworker Cara David staring at orange swatches in Central Park. AAAHHH, THE GATES. I really did think they were nifty, I guess, but I don't see how it's art. I mean, it's not, right? It's drapes, though, when done well, I do consider drapes an art form, so maybe there's my answer. What's most artistic about them though is that there's TWENTY THREE MILES OF THEM. I mean, b'dang. It's art through quantity. I mean, 23 miles of anything would be cool, right? Anyway, I took lots of photos, which I'll put up as soon as I have time (last night was a fresh Gilmore, so I was paralyzed with heartache... I won't say anything for those who haven't seen it, but AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH).

OK Bye. Polyphonic Spree at Irving Plaza tonight. Wicked excited.

KEVS :-)