Hamptons homeless now visible without leaves to hide behind

We're not sure how to take this 2-page feature by the Associated Press, which was republished by ABC.com. On one hand there's the WhatTheFuckery of this:

It's not that the homeless don't exist in the string of famously exclusive waterfront communities on the eastern end of Long Island — they just blend in more easily when it's warm.

But then there's the delicious, CueTheGuillotinesery of this:

"The privet hedges, the beaches, the resort community, the gigantic homes that are used 12 weekends out of the year," she said. "Every time I drive past one of these homes that for the most part are empty, I'm thinking, wow, how many people could we house in this place?"

The profile is of Maureen's Haven, a nonprofit organization that provides shelter to homeless people on the east end. Their home base is in Riverhead, but appparently they house a lot of day laborers and minimum-wage workers in the Hamptons.

The story is interesting in that it addresses something that all of us here on the east end know already: that folks is brokes. I'm not sure what camoflogue the homeless are using in the summer, but I will admit I've never seen a homeless person the way you see them in New York City, where, for the record, you can spot them year-round.

Ours don't lay on benches I guess? Ours don't lean against buildings or sit on the ground? Ours know better? Hmmm.

Getting back to the last statement in the story, we love the idea of raiding these beachfront houses and stocking them with smelly poors. We already have one douchebag on our list of whose home to invade first.

Albanian immigrant arrested for wrong reason

Meet Praq Rado. His story is told by Taylor Vecsey in the East Hampton Patch in an article that went up last week. Rado is awaiting his fate in Los Angeles while the American government decides whether or not to deport him back to Albania, from which he fled 11 years ago.

Rado had been happily bobbing along, modeling, acting, writing, dancing in gay bars...until one day he made the all-too-common mistake of taking the Hamptons International Film Festival seriously. He put together a 25-minute short film about his immigration experience and then accidentally entered it into the HIFF.

He further compounded his mistake by trying to attend the HIFF in October, and was summarily scooped up by immigration police and is now out on bail pending a decision. His lawyers are arguing that he should have been arrested for impersonating a serious person who entered his film into a serious film festival.

According to the article, which is well-written by the way, Rado belongs to the minority Catholic population in the largely Muslim Albania, and we needn't think about what might happen to Rado if he should be returned there, after living out of the closet for so long.

So yeah. We pray for Rado. And we hope the story inspires in all of us a lesson about the Hamptons International Film Festival.

If forced to choose between entering and attending the HIFF or being sent to Muslim-controlled Albania...

We would have to think on it for a while.

Jerry Della Femina's Problems Would Make Jesus Christ Want To Murder Him

Jerry Della Femina's idea of poverty is so rage inducing we saw the Dalai Lama read this Business Insider article and then immediately turn around and punch an infant in the face.

Della Femina, the sleazy, slimy lying gold-toothed creep ad man was one of the few Madison Avenue execs who amassed his fortune and didn't manage to blow it on a coke habit in the 80s. He's been a permanent fixture in the Hamptons since forever and even opened up a successful restaurant with the money he made convincing people with money they don't have to buy shit they don't need.

Now he's sold his house because, well, because his poor unborn great grandchildren may not be able to sit by a pool lined with the skin of Mexican day laborers while doing lines off a blonde co-ed's back. Or as we used to call it: The American Dream.

That's right, a man who lives in America in 2012, with full knowledge of how high the unemployment rate is, who no doubt had to lay off some of his own workers at his various business ventures, who flies his helicopter over thousands of foreclosed homes, has the balls to complain that he's selling because he refuses to pay more taxes under the Obama administration.

Taxes? Really? Taxes? You do realize, Della Femina, that your tax bill is probably quadruple the monthly mortgage of the average home just west of where you live, right?

Instead of feeling fortunate that he even has the money to PAY those taxes, he's selling low just to avoid them. His ginormous, disgustingly lavish, and grossly unnecessary oceanfront house went for $25 million. He wanted $40 million. But he's settling for 25. A fact that makes us just...so sad.

“I want the proceeds of this sale to go to my kids and my grandkids,” he told The Post's Jennifer Gould Keil and Selim Algar. “I don’t want my money going to Obama, and that’s what’s going to happen in the New Year. That’s why I sold right now, that’s why I wanted to get this done.”
“I’m basically the loser in Obama’s class warfare,” he added.

Wow. That really gets us...right around...the chest/heart region or thereabouts. Another loser in Obama's class warfare, according the article, is Discovery Networks CEO David Zaslav, who inherited Della Femina's meager 8 bedroom, 6.5 bathroom, heated pool-even-though-there's-a-literal-ocean-500-feet-away, mansion that sits on 1.7 acres.

On a side note, we'd like to know how an advertising/marketing guru can be this culturally tone-deaf. On a sider note, we'd like to know how Della Femina's brain didn't say to him: 'please don't call the NY Post and...say anything like what you're about to say.' On an even sider note, we'd like Della Femina to eat a bag of dicks.

What We Need: More Suckup Hamptons Journalism

We noticed this in the "Goddammit" File of our RSS feed earlier this month and thought we'd share. Empty, vacant, and generally predictable Hamptons magazine is going to have some competition this coming summer, as yet another empty, vacant, and generally predictable suckup magazine is poised to hit the stands.

Manhattan Media, the owner of Dan's Papers, has hired Mark Drucker to publish a new title called...wait for it...Avenue At The Beach, a glossy magazine that will shockingly target the wealthy in the Hamptons. And by target, we mean literally follow them around to all their various charity events and take photographs of their fabulous fabulosity.

The New York Post broke the story a while back. Drucker was once the publisher of the now defunct because nobody cared then either Plum Hamptons. According to reports, Manhattan Media is supposed to be on the auction block, but they're going full speed ahead. And why not? It's not like there's a sad history of glossy magazines covering the Hamptons that have gone belly up.

Or...hmmm. Wait. Scratch that.

Anyhoo, we'll look forward to what this new magazine has in store for us. Our guess is that it will read something like: "Stunningly gorgeous, classy, elegant, fabulous inventor of puppies and rainbows Christie Brinkley was on hand to..."

Matter of fact we'll send that line to the staff at Avenue At The Beach as boiler-plate. Just swap out Brinkley's name for every other person they profile in that damn magazine, et viola!

According to The Post:

He’ll be competing with a former colleague, Cristina Cuomo, who was the editor of Plum Hamptons and is now the new editor-in-chief of Modern Luxury’s Manhattan magazine and will also be overseeing Modern Luxury Hamptons.

Oh my God, now there's TWO of these new magazines? Somebody got the douche-Gizmo wet. Somebody fed them after midnight.

Who knows, though, right? Maybe this magazine will turn a profit by offering content that will make people want to part with their dollars at the stand.

Avenue at the Beach will start modestly, sending 25,000 free copies out East in the June, July and August.

Sonofabitch.

East Hampton Star Tries to Say With a Straight Face That The Rich Are Genuinely Philanthropic

Exclaiming "In your face!" in its opening line, this East Hampton Star article wants you to know it will be every bit as obnoxious as...well...as its opening line.

The "in your face" taunt is aimed at HuffPo and CNBC, presumably because they are the Sean Penn and Tim Robbins of journalism--perennial bogeymen of the paranoid right. According to this piece, the national survey (reported on by HuffPo and CNBC, because...well their job is to report) about the lackluster charity offered up by the wealthiest 1% is wrong because East Hampton's 1% give more than the middle class in the same area. The article, entitled The Rich Really Do Give More, by Larry LaVigne III, is a clinic in how to manipulate statistics. And also how to be a douche. A douche, yes, but not a huge douche, for the article does have its caveats.

Anyone who lives out here knows exactly why and how the wealthy in East Hampton spend "8.5%" of their discretionary income on charity. SWAG. STEP AND REPEATS.

At the very least, this article brings in one expert who, at the very least, hints at this reality.
“The strong and welcomed presence of nonprofits and the causes they support may keep charity top-of-mind for residents, and at a certain level of income and lifestyle, philanthropy becomes a regular part of social life.”

Lavigne tries to downplay this very poignant remark by referring to these lavish parties as merely a stab at some free drinks.

 "But is it more than an open bar of top-shelf cocktails in exchange for a five- or even six-figure ticket?"

Yes it is more. It's a LOT more. And you know this, LaVigne. We've heard of some cases where the free gift bags handed out at charity events added to a total value of $15,000. Add that to the allure of being photographed by local and national press, and rubbing elbows with famous actors, musicians, reality TV stars, and you can clearly see why the well-heeled turn out in droves. And arm flab. 

Care for more BS?

Quote: “A lot of Alec Baldwin’s fans come out to show support when he is tied to an event, but we have soooo much diverse talent that works with Guild Hall,” [Barbara Jo Howard, director of marcomms at Guild Hall] said."

Translation: Alec Baldwin's draw represents 99% of the money raised, while every other program running there suffers from Giveashit-itis.

Put simply, if East Hampton's rich were so giving of their discretionary income, why does EVERY SINGLE charity event held in the Hamptons have to wheel some celebrity out in front like Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs? Answer: Because nobody would go otherwise. It's not supernatural.

What? MORE BS?

Quote: Even though the wealthy may give a lesser percentage of their income elsewhere, the study finds that the richest Americans still contribute the vast majority of dollars to charitable causes.

Really. You know, I would have given my $10,000 to Save the Beleagered Manatees, but somehow my invitation to the Gala in East Hampton got lost in the mail. There's a reason why the rich give to charitable causes, because charitable causes ASK them to, you dolt!

Oh, East Hampton Star. You make me want to beat an angel to death with a little girl's puppy. 

Reynolds Dodson: We Goofed On You, But We Didn't Want You To Die

Credit: The Southampton Press

Some sad news coming out of the land made of happiness cocktails and bunnies' noses. Columnist for the Southampton Press Reynolds Dodson has died, after battling cancer. He was 74.

Dodson lived in Water Mill with his wife Susan, and contributed a column entitled "The View East," which won six New York Press Awards, according to this obit in the Press.  He also authored a number of books and edited numerous magazines, including Family Weekly and Reader's Digest.

But it was his last book A Cockeyed Guide to the Hamptons that got our attention last year. We goofed on him (here) for the silly press release announcing the book, which was plastered on every free PR distribution site in existence. It spawned a checklist of how you too can be fakin' it till you're makin' it in the Hamptons. The release was clearly written by Dodson himself, and more than likely distributed himself. The book was self-published, self-promoted, and completely not self-aware, as it makes fun of people with pastel-colored shirts who carry dogs. (Umm, see picture above that ran in his obit.)

But...however hard we goof, however strongly we might seem to resent a person or their actions, however badly we may trample them for their seeming self-absorption, incestuous legitimacy, and fakery...we are not so heartless that we can't recognize that a human being who was loved, who was somebody's husband, son, colleague, or maybe even inspiration...has died. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, Hamptonyte Blog...the bell tolls for thee.

Except Ramona Singer from Real Housewives of New York. Fuck that bitch.

Alec Baldwin's Wife Must Have Had A Shitty Dad

In another installment of Human Bratz Doll Gina Glickman-Giordan's hard-hitting investigation of the Hamptons we all know as "Whispers," our favorite brown-noser bopped all the way to "Yoga Gives" in Southampton and went all gonzo journalism on us.

Embedded in the dark trenches of an underworld known as Yogis, she braved degradation, humiliation, perspiration, and possibly even death to deliver us an insider's look at how the rich exorcise and cleanse from the horrors and stresses of being rich. Hunter S. Thompson would have been proud. Proud that he refrained from shooting her.

In either event, after dropping the very important fact that she was not wearing Yoga clothes, she was wearing her "Lululemon finest yoga attire," she got into the purpose of her visit. To seek out and delve deeply into the life and times of Hilaria Thomas Baldwin, newly minted wife of actor Alec Baldwin.

What did we learn? First and foremost that despite our constant urge to finish her name with an "S" by calling her "Hilarious," it's actually pronounced Ee-larry-ah, which, we also learned, is Spanish for Golddigger "happy."

We also learned that despite Eelarryah's seemingly cest-la-vie attitude and folksy aw-shucksism, she, like most wealthy women in the spotlight, is just as absorbed and cooky, and control-freaky about her body image. When she was apparently accused of donning a "baby bump" at a recent charity event, she tried to control her apeshit, but couldn't, and took to Twitter with: "Shld rumors that I’m pregnant give me a complex about my waistline? How slim do u have to be? This is a serious problem in society.”

Well, really it's just a problem for you, fatty. And clearly you already have a complex about your waistline. Enjoy your beer gut.

We also learned that putting a person's name in bold-face type doesn't make them a celebrity. Who knew?

But most importantly, we learned that Hilaria must have had a really lousy father. "I think anybody would be so lucky to have Alec as a dad.” (Bold-type Gina's, not ours. Of course.)

"I think anybody would be so lucky to have Alec as a dad.” Aw. We can understand where she's coming from. Just check out Alec's new line of Birthday Cards for Children Whose Age You're Unsure Of, Or If In Fact They Are Children At All below:



 Bold-type...Ours.

Hamptons Hosts Ridiculous Hat Convention

We're not sure what this is but our friends at Guest of a Guest captured a photographic essay of people being huddled into a tent and apparently forced to wear ridiculous hats. Our only guess is that it's some sort of Hamptons hazing gone horribly wrong. You have:



Just keep smiling and don't turn around. Do Not Turn Around.











 

 

The hat made from leftover ribbons at the bridal shower.

Air Syria flight attendant flushed accidentally as plane passed over.

After his refusal to wear the baby blue fedora, his captors acquiesced and handed him the equally shameful peach blazer with a handkerchief sticking out of the pocket.

It's not a hat if they have to pin it to your hair. Or, as in this case, allow the bird to keep his talons so he can grip firmly down on the scalp. Her smile is one of controlled pain.

This group tried its best to camoflogue the little one as a white girl by squishing down what was left in their flower garden on top of a nest of lace. Oh, when rich people adopt.

Bride of Barney

You can actually SEE her wondering how ridiculous she looks.

This 4 Non-Blondes wardrobe sale came with a miniature-sized replica of the Mayor of New York City. She wouldn't stop bragging about how much of a steal it was.

She brought enough hat for the two of them, but he kept insisting.

Okay, that's actually Edith Beale, but so long as we're documenting batshit crazy....





 

Jill Zarin Proves Even in Reality Show Purgatory, She Can Still Be Huge Pain In The Ass

Sorry, but we thought that when Jill Zarin was banished to the Phantom Zone along with General Zod, Ursa, and Non, it would be the last we'd hear from her. She'd drift off into the galaxy entrapped in that pane of glass for the high treasonous crime of...being annoying.

We were wrong. Somehow she escaped, and caught the attention of our favorite Bubble Guppy Gina Glickman-Giordan. (And I get compliments on the hyphen)

You see, when Jill and her daughter Ally, (whom she shipped off to fat camp and documented the whole awful exchange on "Real Housewives of the Vacant and Soulless New York City") were out modestly contributing their time and money at the Super Saturday bargain sale for Ovarian Cancer Research, Jill apparently felt she hadn't adequately embarrassed her daughter enough.

While walking the press line, because, you know she doesn't show up for these things because of the press and all, she "suddenly stopped mid-sentence and shouted in her signature NY accent across the field 'Oh! Wait! Wait! Who is that cute boy? Zarin proceeded to ignore the cameras that were rolling mid-interview and shouted: 'He's cute! Wait! Wait!' As Zarin crossed the red carpet to jump over the velvet ropes she instantly got the attention of a longhaired teenage boy," Glickman gleefully reports.

Oh that crazy Jill. Always doing hilariously crazy, funny things. And yet still is so fabulously fabulous? How does she do it?

Dragging the poor boy across the red carpet like Grendel's vengeful mother, Jill introduced the kid to Ally. We wonder why Jill didn't just go all the way and tell "Zach" (of course that would be his name) that Ally is fresh off the farm from fat reality boot camp.

So yeah. Now Jill thinks she's a matchmaker, fit to give another reality star a run for her world's most shittiest person money. "See I do this! Sorry Patti Stanger," Jill reportedly said. "By "this" she means make an obnoxious spectacle of herself in front of cameras by being rude and turning an event about cancer into an event about Jill Zarin.

Take away lines from our blonde sock puppet:

Zarin proceeded to ignore the cameras that were rolling mid-interview... Really? Are you actually clueless or do you just play one on television? She did this BECAUSE of the cameras, not in spite of them.

Zarin who is a reality pro was immune to the hundreds of bystanders documenting her exchange... A reality pro? What's a reality amateur, someone who doesn't exist? And again, immune? You spelled "spurned on by" wrong, Gina.

The cameras didn't faze either one of them. It was as if they were in the process of shooting a new reality series. Not a bad idea?...Here Glickman probably gets the closest to the truth by accident than she ever will in the history of this awful, suck-up column. And for the record: YES it IS a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Oh, son of Jor-El, can you please banish her once more? It didn't take.

Oh Yeah, We're On The Facebook Now

 Just a short post to let all six of you know that you can grab our headlines and comment on our blog posts from Facebook. Our Facebook page launched yesterday, and we'll populate it with short, relevant and informative information as we come across it. The launch was rather unceremonious, and took 24 hours to upload our profile picture, but otherwise a rousing success.

So like us on Facebook, and then all we need is 24 more likers and we can start getting analytics from FB, which will show us just how many people have no idea we exist.

Should be fun.

How Does All Kinds of Awesomeness Reside In One Person?

We're late to the Twitter game, and still haven't followed this man, but if you like Hamptonyte Blog, you'll love Hamptons handyman Joe Schwenk's Twitter account. It is filled with all sorts of nuggets about the type of requests he fills and people he encounters while doing odd-jobs for the Hamptons wealthy.

New York Magazine just printed a summer wrap-up article with Schwenk, who has over 6,000 followers on Twitter, all frothing at the mouth to hear what he encounters on a daily basis. Like my favorite new term "Beachtrepreneur," which perfectly sums up these women who have hitched their star to successful men and now find all sorts of time to whittle away the hours paddleboarding, taking instagram photos of themselves eating produce, and spin-cycling.

The best. Plus he has ginormous balls to risk losing business in a region that still has an old-school privacy about them. He even mentions some staff signing confidentiality agreements when hired. For those reasons, Hamptonyte Blog feels sad around him. Unaccomplished. Quite the posers, really. We can only wish for such access to that world.

So follow him. He's better than us.
But we're funnier. So follow us too! Go.

Celebrities Attempt to Wrap Brains Around Tragedy: Realize They Have No Brains

The real tragedy is in the asking. When Professional Blonde Muppet Gina Glickman-Giordan (whose metamorphasis into pretentious Hamptonyte is now complete with the hyphenated name) asked a room full of VIPs at the Bridehampton Polo Club what they thought of the Aurora, Colorado "Dark Knight" shootings, our only explanation for the answers she got was that they were all high. Someone left the valve open on the helium machine. Someone brought in some special-baked brownies. Our only explanation for Dan's Papers actually publishing the responses is that the newspaper hates them.

The only "celebrity" but sort of isn't one  who came close to a reasoned response was Polo Player Chris Del Gatto, who said "The first thing we think about is our children and that you could be some place as innocuous as a movie theater taking them out for a family evening and something like that happens." If you're looking for clarity after that the closest you can come is Countess LuAnn de Lesseps, who started out on solid footing and then gave us every reason why we should take away her fame. "I think it's terrible and I feel so bad for the families. I have children and everybody has children that they are connected to those people that were there."
Huh? But that was not to be topped by the absolute beauty pageant answer we got from Donna Karan's neer-do-well daughter (whom Glickman felt the need to run down her resume as though she gained all this by herself) Gabby Karan:

"It breaks my heart. I think that we just have to change in our soceity and try to give back a little bit more."

Who knew charity and soup kitchens can stop mass murder?
What this column truly exemplifies is something that sort of strikes at one of the pillars of why we launched Hamptonyte Blog. Just because you're a celebrity, does not mean you should be tapped to give opinions. In fact you probably shouldn't. Because you're a brand. And brands are very touchy not to say anything that even smells of controversy. Okay, that's too long of a pillar, but the lesson stands all the same.

Rule #127: When commenting on a blog...know who you're defending

Many moons ago, we published in an innocuous little blog piece entitled The Worst. Press Release. Ever. It was a press release that didn't, um...release anything. It wasn't a new promotion, it wasn't an incident, it wasn't details on a new store opening. It was a synopsis of a party thrown by a rich couple, featuring amateur acts all coralled by a man in the know in the Hamptons: Tariq Alexander.

His "network" is called TSW, The System Within, and apparently it's a social network for wanna-be celebrities looking for their big break, not by auditioning, or working hard at their craft, or conceptualizing something amazing and fresh, and new. No. By going to the parties where powerful people hang out and basically throwing themselves at them. It's a form of charlatanism we often overlook in our culture. The by-product of our short-cut, American Idol, skip-the-line, skip-the-hard-work, go right to the front because you're special mentality.

The post sat dormant for months until suddenly we got inundated with multiple comments from "users" (appropriate word) of Tariq's network, The System Within.

Even though you believe the press release mentioned in the original post may not have been the most well written announcement of the Hamptons event, I fully support the spirit of what they were trying to accomplish. I have worked with TSW in the past and found it to be an incredibly helpful organization. They have always bent over backwards to help me with any problems or questions that I have encountered and have been a great resource for connections within the entertainment world. As mentioned by the poster above, the entertainment industry is incredible difficult to break into and having the resources of TSW at my disposal have made the audition process and the endless search for new contacts much easier. From my point of view, knowing the assistance that TSW has provided to me in the past, this event sounds like it was a wonderful opportunity for those involved to network and show off their talents. Although the press release did not relay what it was meant to, I think it is important to look beyond it to the important service that TSW is providing to its clients. I have fully enjoyed and appreciated the assistance I have received from Mr. Alexander and his company would urge others trying to break into entertainment to consider using TSW as a resource.

And

I'm sorry you had a bad experience with TSW. I've been using it myself for quite some time now and personally I love it. I've received a lot of helpful insight and tips that previously did not occur to me. I've also received various career and network opportunities that proved to be very useful. I've also spoke with others who have worked with the company in the past, including those I’ve recommended, all of whom have given positive feedback.

For a while we felt bad for throwing poor Mr. Alexander under the bus. But at long last, the universe makes sense again. Our last commenter dropped us a little alley-oop by way of some link love to multiple news sources reporting that Alexander's "TSW" business is under investigation for developing a pyramid scheme, whereby the number of referrals and paid users funnels money upward for not a whole lot of Return On Investment. The links are here, and here. So yeah. There's a lesson for the above commenters. Before you go out on a limb for someone, make sure it isn't rotten to the trunk. And by rotten, we mean Pyramid Schemes. And by Pyramid Schemes, we mean Tariq Alexander.

Occupy the Hamptons Doesn't Occupy Common Sense

That grim looking fella to the left of this photo is right. We are the 99%. Especially us here at Hamptonyte Blog. We have all the requisite 99% problems: unemployment, disenfranchisement, disgust with corruption, irritation at the continued illusion we call the American Dream. Hell, we practically started this blog along similar sentiments.

We can't be so cynical as to criticize a small group of protesters holding up signs in a community that is veritably empty during the winter months, and sure to have them lined against a wall and executed arrested during the summer. Despite the usual Hamptons media eye-rolling these protests often create, we're pretty much on their side. We sort of admire the fact that reminders of the greed and corruption that plague our Republic will not be escaped when these creeps from Wall St. head out here on Memorial Day. For that we thank this small band of flies buzzing into the luxury ointment.

But we can't get on board their recent decision to occupy HarborFrost. It just doesn't make any sense. Simply pulling into the 7-11 parking lot, where a lot of the HarborFrost attendees parked, it was visibly evident by the lack of BMWs, Mercedes, and Audis, that many of us jumping into the frigid water were in the 99% and are most likely attending to take our minds off the struggle we endure daily.

I recognize there will always be some degree of shouting at the choir, but the last thing anybody wants to see at a festival, is a group of sober-faced grouches standing there with signs, reminding us how fucked we are change needs to take place in our capitalist system.

The occupy movement needs just a tad bit of PR in this spot. They already have policed themselves when it comes to individual members' behavior. Here's another instance where they should do so. Nothing makes the average person, liberal or otherwise, more turned off to a movement than when the movement doesn't know where or when to land its blows. The perception many walked away with during HarborFrost is that a bunch of sign-wielding, friendless shut-ins, with nothing better to do on a Saturday, attempted to hijack a fun event by drawing attention to themselves. The operative word "themselves." Not the movement. Or the message. Such is the importance of PR in this circumstance. The protest had absolutely no relevance to the festival, except for the fact that hundreds would be gathered in one spot. From a PR perspective, this screams the protestors want attention, more than they want to inform the public of an injustice. Now, if the festival was paid for and sponsored by Goldman Sachs or Lehman Bros., and the soup being served was made from the ground up bones of unemployed Americans who went into default on their mortgages, that would be a different story.

I'm often reminded of a great line in Oliver Stone's Jim Morrison biopic The Doors. The entire movie script is pretty much Jim Morrison wandering around being profound and prophetic, and waxing philosophical over every little thing. But there is one instance...one little line, when Morrison has just recorded one of his uber-intellectual, drippy, philosophical poems. He stands up from his session and says: "C'mon let's get some tacos."

Note to Occupy the Hamptons: Sometimes even Jim Morrison knew when to give it a rest!

HarborFrost 2012: We did it wrong

In the spirit of reducing our snark by at least 20% I decided to participate in HarborFrost 2012, held last Saturday in Sag Harbor. For the uninitiated, Sag Harbor, though considered the "Hamptons, has managed to blend its Hamptons Bourgie-ness with its shipping and whaling roots--so much so that it's my favorite section of the east end.

Sure, I can still get a cup of coffee for under a buck, but I can also sit on a bench and check out hot rich girls that would never give me the time of day. It's a perfect storm of literary romance, hard drinking, and women that make you dream of one day hitting it big.

HarborFrost is in its second year in Sag Harbor, and actually a great idea for generating revenue and adding some color to the long, gray winter. Restaurants get a chance to test their food before the big season swings around, artists and musicians get to fine-tune their acts and showcase their work at ease, and the kids are happy to take part in anything that will distract them from killing themselves because there's nothing else to do on the east end in the winter.

There was a whole itinerary of things to do and see at HarborFrost, but naturally I missed all of them, except the afternoon highlight: The Frosty Plunge. It was on my bucket list anyway, so I figured why not: I love Sag Harbor, I'll get there early, check out the sights, grab a cup of joe, and then head down to the Long Wharf, strip off my clothes and jump into a broiling sea of ice water.

I had some company: three nephews, age 21, 19, and 10, and my niece, age 11. We got there just in the nick of time--3:30 p.m.-- sort of missed the countdown bullhorn and dove into the water, sans coffee, sans sightseeing, sans food-sampling, and sans warmth. Also sans soup, because by the time we got dressed at the dock, the complimentary soup had all been doled out to the Occupy the Hamptons people. (More on them in another blog).

Now freezing cold and shivering, we all agreed to hop back in our cars and head home. So, all told, I was at HarborFrost for roughly...mmm...25 minutes. I heard there were fireworks later that night. Would have been nice to see that. Yeah, HarborFrost 2012. We did it wrong.