B’way-bound is another musical about music. Story of the Temptations, “Ain’t Too Proud” ain’t too proud to test out at Ahmanson in Los Angeles. John Legend, Angela Bassett, Motown’s Berry Gordy, Mary Wilson and Danielle Brooks showed.
Billy Crystal told original Temptation Otis Williams: “You’re lucky. When my life story, ‘700 Sundays,’ was on Broadway, I personally had to do it every night.”
Williams: “Please. If I could still play myself, you wouldn’t be able to keep me off that stage.”
At the curtain call, Rod Stewart danced in the aisle.
“Ain’t Too Proud — The Life and Times of the Temptations” will run at Broadway’s Imperial Theatre next spring.
Bonjour, Paris, pour une fête
Exotic is no longer just a word in Webster’s. Today’s party planners want your kid’s sweet 16 thing in downtown Botswana. A wedding? Shove a catering hall in Bushwick. Even if the trip lasts longer than the marriage, it’s 125 guests in South Africa. A bar mitzvah in Burundi? So what if their pigs in blankets aren’t kosher.
LeFrak City’s Francine LeFrak produces movies, plays, manufactures Same Sky jewelry made in Rwanda. A woman of the world, it’s where she’s known and where she has friends. She gave husband Eric Friedberg a birthday party. A real-estate agent, he likes Park Avenue places, so I figured OK. Plus a tie or fake leather wallet gift wouldn’t break me. I accepted.
Two whole days and late nights of parties. Fifty guests from assorted continents. And where? Paris. Ritz hotel. John and Margo Catsimatidis’ suite was 6,000 euros a night. Tommy Tune and Ray Kelly are still there paying the bill.
Realty bites
Gatsby-era Hampton hut Goose Creek is for grabs: eight bedrooms, 11 ¹/₂ johns (who goes that much?), 110-seat screening room (for behinds that use all those johns). Off Georgica Pond, a splash from Ron Perelman, Martha Stewart, Spielberg, it’s lush and flush. (Flush part’s maybe the johns.) A mere $13,995,000.
More: A Fifth Avenue mint-condition flat isn’t selling. Not the price. Not the location. Not the building. Not the size. Not the sniffy board. Why? Because millennials want condos, not co-ops. And not old-timey Upper East Side. They want new glossy glassy glitzy downtown places with the fixin’s: gym, restaurant, maid service, laundry service, dog sitters and baby sitters.
Also, in general the market’s up, but the stores aren’t. Madison Avenue — 60th Street through the 70s — 25 empty shops. Is everyone going to Jeff Bozo’s Amazon?
Please try to pay attention
Scott Silven ’s back at the McKittrick Hotel with “At the Illusionist’s Table.” Sept. 15 to Dec. 30. Book fast before poof, just like magic, he’s gone . . . More about sleight of hand, Texas’ USAA Federal Savings Bank San Antonio lists unclaimed funds under the name of the late Andrew Madoff, 885 Third Ave., NYC 10022, former office address of his father, Bum Madoff. What’s that mean? To whom goes the money now? . . . Joan Rivers has been gone four years. Vogue, doing a fur retrospective for Fashion Week, wants her red chinchilla coat. Meanwhile, Joan’s daughter, Melissa: “My son’s a high school senior. I’m already having empty-nest syndrome and plan to move to wherever’s his college. Cooper’s not yet aware of that, but let’s say I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” . . . July Fourth. Annapolis. US Naval Academy. They organized a tour for me. It was two months ago and they’d already organized, planned and pointed out the forever resting place of Sen. John McCain.
A happy dude inhaling weed: “Man, it’s OK for me. Smoking a cigarette’s against the law, but puffing pot’s legal!”
Only in New York, but only for medical reasons, kids, only in New York.
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