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Friday
March 20, 2009 Battlestar Galactica’s Last Episode: The Final “Frak You”Hi Everyone! Today is a momentous day in Dorkville, as Battlestar Galactica, the Sci-Fi Network’s brilliantly brutal and deliciously dark space opera about human beings living in a futuristic alternate reality and the sexy, stealthy, sneaky Cylon robot counterparts who love them (except when they want to kill them) calls it quits after four breathtakingly rollicking seasons.
In this now-famous “Last Supper” press photo for the start of the fourth and final season of Battlestar Galactica, the impossibly attractive main players of humans and Cylons share a table before one last, big, “frak you” moment. Two of my work BFFs, Hillary Braubitz (ASI’s senior editorial designer who lays out our magazines) and Jeremy Young (one of ASI’s tech engineers) and I rented a hotel room last week so we could all watch the second-to-the-last episode together. We wanted to watch together because Hillary, who is in Europe at the moment and will be missing tonight’s final show, is the one who turned me on to the frakking fabulousness that is BSG. She’s also allergic to cats (removing watching the show at my house, where my kittens Monkey and Mouse live with me, from the equation), which is why we got a hotel room where we could all hunker down, drink ourselves silly and bask in the brilliance of the show.
Here are my partners-in-dorkiness, Hillary Braubitz, ASI’s senior editorial designer (she lays out all our magazines) and the person who first clued me into the brilliance of BSG, and Jeremy Young, one of the uber-Geeks who handles ASI’s technology infrastructure. Despite the stricken look on her face — which bears more than a passing resemblance to Patty Hearst’s after she spent a day or two with the Symbionese Liberation Army — Hillary really isn’t unnerved by Jeremy, nor is Jeremy nearly as cheesy as he looks in this photo. Why he appears to be posing for a cognac ad escapes me. All he’s missing is a red silk robe, a matching ascot and a pipe.
Here, Jeremy says something clearly jaw-dropping to Hillary. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s just sucked down his second tumbler of 18-year-old Scotch or that he’s proudly wearing a Han Solo Star Wars T-shirt. I’ll say this about Jeremy: He does fly his dork flag proudly… This isn’t the first time I’ve written about my love for BSG, or my coming out of the closet as a full-fledged sci-fi/fantasy fan. [Click here for previous blog] However, it bears repeating because this show may be one of the best we’ll come across in a generation. Like some other ground-breaking shows — The Sopranos, Mad Men, Rescue Me, Lost — BSG was never afraid to address messy issues and had to guts to let them play out as they would in real life, in all its nasty, gritty, gory glory. No one on BSG is an angel (well, one of them may be, but her behavior is far from angelic), which is what makes the show all that more compelling — there is no pure good or evil. Everything about this show (including its lighting) exists in troubling shades of gray. Not since Blade Runner has science fiction shot for the screen been so morally ambiguous. So, without further delay, are the top 4 reasons why BSG may be the best show in decades: 1. Though it never won a major Golden Globe or Emmy award, BSG received critical acclaim, the devotion of legions of fans and was presented with the prestigious Peabody Award for excellence in television. Which, by the way, if we’re comparing that to the Emmys, would be like being given a glass of Veuve Clicquot champagne as opposed to a mason jar full of Champipple. So esteemed is this show that a special screening of select episodes was held this week at the United Nations, followed by a discussion among U.N. representatives, cast members and the show’s creators on topics such as human rights, children and armed conflicts, terrorism and different cultures and faiths. When the blond pop tarts on The Girls Next Door are invited to such a gathering, I’ll turn in my membership to the nerd herd and begin touting the benefits of reality TV to society. 2. In creating such a vivid, complex and at times frustrating view of an alternate society, the brains behind BSG have given us such gems as a cranky, cantankerous doctor, ironically named “Coddle,” who chain-smokes in front of critically ill patients and barks at grieving family members, “just try not to unplug anything — or anybody.” So fully-formed and unique are the characters that populate the BSG world that it’s them you’re ultimately drawn to — not the dazzling (and they are) special effects. You also have to give kudos to a show that installed a woman as president (the always-awesome Mary McDonnell) and gave her the backbone to make impossibly difficult decisions with the wisdom, grace and definitiveness you wish existed in the men who’ve held the office of U.S. president. 3. FRAK! One of my favorite aspects of BSG is the way it commandeered its own bad, four-letter “F-word” that’s not only part of the lexicon in the BSG world, but has seeped into ours as well. Want to know who’s a BSG fan? Start hurling the word “frak” around and they’ll give themselves away with the knowing glint in their eyes. I like it because it allows me to curse even more loudly and liberally than usual, but without the usual annoying tisk-tisk, finger-wagging repercussions. I can’t tell you the joy I derive from telling Joe Haley, ASI’s managing editor and star of The Joe Show, “Frak you, my little motherfrakker!” (He responds in kind by calling me “a total dork who is justifiably single.”) 4. Because the creators of the show, Ronald Moore and David Eick, took the character of Starbuck — played in the cheesy ’70s original by Dirk Benedict as the epitome of a testosterone-driven, swashbuckling rogue — and did the unthinkable. They re-imagined the character as a blond, tattooed girl. Kara Thrace (played by Katee Sackoff) is an ace fighter pilot with a mouth like a sailor on shore leave. The only thing more mind-numbing than her use of profanity is her cavalier, chew-’em-up-and-spit-’em-out attitude towards sex and her ability to drink copious amounts of liquor. Of course, I love her. I’d want to drink with her, but am sure she’d kick my ass, as she does everyone else’s. In this new, enlightened BSG world, Starbuck is a little bad-ass blond who can eat your entrails for lunch, and wash them down with a shot. Because I am such a devotee of BSG, and because today is the show’s last hurrah, please do post a comment below if you’re a BSG fan. If you do, it will be my pleasure to send you your very own “Frak” mug — one of which I have on my desk, as do my BFF dorks Hillary and Jeremy. After all, everyone deserves a good frak. So say we all! Cheers, and more next week! — Michele Actual
Tuesday
February 24, 2009 What the Hell is a “Twitter”?Hi Everyone! Sorry I’ve been incommunicado — I’ve had crazy, overlapping magazine deadlines that have been stalking me like buzzards flying lazing circles. However, my absence from blogging has given me time to ponder my latest loony rant: just how much I despise online social networking. It’s not that I’m averse to new forms of technology per se… Some of my favorite people here at ASI are the Tech Geeks, or as I call them, The Joy Stick Club. So what’s my issue with online social networking sites like Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter and MySpace? They’re the nexus for all things annoying in life, and one more nail in the coffin of personal, human interaction. Heretowith, the eight reasons why online networking is the current bane of my existence: 1. The Tedious Play-by-Play. Am I the only one who doesn’t care that Mrs. Blah Blah is “out having the dog groomed” or that Larry Lame “just had a burrito for lunch.” Let me end the suspense for you: Michele is sitting at her computer right now, rolling her eyes in an exasperated fashion and using variations of a word that rhymes with “duck.” 2. When, Exactly, Did “Friend” Become a Verb? I get daily invitations from people who want to “Friend” me, Link with me and Tweet me (which sounds way more salacious and fun than it is). Really? First of all, if I consider you a friend and want you to have an all-access pass to my life, you already have my e-mail address and cell phone number, which I sometimes think has been written on bathroom walls at ASI shows, so many industry people seem to have it. Do we really need one more avenue through which to know every single detail about a person and to be able to contact them 24/7? I love you all dearly… I love my privacy more. 3. Ghosts of Boyfriends Past. My friend Meg and I have known each other since the first grade. We know each other’s dirty little secrets and have been there for all the major events in each other’s life. Meg called me last week to tell me that she’s now on Facebook and has been in contact with a guy we went to high school with — let’s call him Loser McMoron. The cringe-inducing part? Loser McMoron is the first person I had sex with and the thought of my oldest friend chatting him up after all these years unnerves the hell out of me. Do I regret the losing-my-virginity sex? Nope. I regret the fact that it was with a Reagan Republican. I still shudder at the thought. The moral of the story? Some people belong in the past. Unlike Christ, resurrecting them isn’t hallelujah-worthy. 4. The “25 Random Things” List on Facebook. Please. Have we really become this self-important and self-involved that we need to share every little cockamamie, weirdo aspect of our lives? Because I refuse to engage in online networking, my cousin read her list to me, much to my chagrin. Number 6 on her list was “Sometimes, when I’m sad, I sneak a piece of cake and eat it in my bedroom.” Good Lord. Who needs to know that? Have we no shame? And by the way, to my cousin I say: Anyone who’s walked behind you lately would agree that the sneaky cake-eating isn’t exactly a secret. 5. My mother is on Facebook. 6. The Whining Wall. My aforementioned mother, Judge Judye (again, she doesn’t preside over a court, but she is judgemental), is a new member to the Facebook community, which is reason enough for me to disavow it as a harbinger of the apocalypse. She’s eager for me to join so she can post messages on my “Wall.” I’m not quite sure what that is, but am fairly certain they have one in hell. To be clear, my mother utilizes every form of modern communication — phone, e-mail, text message — to reach her recommended daily allowance of nagging. Giving her one more portal to do so is the last thing I need. When I didn’t call her back within five minutes after her leaving me message on Sunday night because I was watching the Oscars, she sent me an Instant Message reminding me that she was in labor with me for 10 hours. Oy gevault, sighs this shiksa. 7. Virtual “Drinks.” As someone who still gets a special thrill uncorking a new bottle of Grey Goose and pouring it over a glacial stack of ice, the concept of a “virtual drink” is just downright twisted and evil. The premise, as it’s been explained to me, is this: A person sends out an invitation to all his online “friends” to have a drink, and if you accept, a mini-program is downloaded, thereby letting your wild and crazy online posse tie one on. (A word of caution: Drink responsibly or you may end up getting Control-Alt-Deleted right into Virtual Rehab.) Joe Haley, my editorial colleague and star of The Joe Show, tells me, “It’s like being in a bar and drinking with all your friends.” Yes, it certainly seems so in every way — except that there’s no real bar, there are no real, live friends and, most importantly, THERE IS NO ALCOHOL. If I want to drink in a bar with friends, I require it to be so real that I feel the thud of dead weight hitting the floor as they boozily fall off their bar stools like sacks of potatoes. 8. The Popularity Contest. I have actually witnessed conversations between middle-aged people in which they complain that they “only have 60 MySpace friends while SoandSo has 500” or lamenting for far longer than they should that their request to be someone’s “friend” has been declined. I’m just guessing here, but I think these are also the people who brought their cousins as prom dates and were the last kids to be picked for dodgeball. Now lest you think I’m alone in my anti-online networking sentiment, Time magazine just declared Facebook “the place for old fogies” and about as hip as Pat Boone. “There was a time when it was cool to be on Facebook,” the magazine noted. “That time has passed.” Additionally, my techno-dork BFF Jeremy whom I mentioned earlier in this blog drew his own line in the sand last November by removing himself and all evidence he ever existed from Facebook (which speaks volumes about his threshold for geekiness because has NO problem proudly and readily admitting that he’s the secretary in an amateur astronomy club): “Social networks are the new world order of how people hang out,” he says. “It used to be that you’d hang out with friends and it was fun. Now you ‘hang out’ with people online and don’t even know some of them. There’s an entire Internet of people spewing nonsense that I couldn’t care less about … and they’re not there for me to mock in person.” My reason for shunning online networking is different: I like my real-life friends — the ones who can meet for real meals and show up to provide rides, alibis and testimony for the defense at a moment’s notice. When online friends can do that, I’ll be all aTwitter. Cheers! — M PS: Hope to see you at ASI’s New York Show from March 8-10. I’ll be the one consuming real drinks… ; )
Wednesday
January 14, 2009 J’Adore Paris!Filed under: Fun, Personal, PSI Shows, Travel Hi from Philly! I just returned from Paris, France, where ASI senior vice president and I spent the weekend after the fabulously successful PSI Show in Dusseldorf. France is my favorite place in the world, and Paris is my favorite city, so the cloud of snark and sass that usually envelopes me dissipated, and I was in my giddy, glorious happy place. The food, the wine, the architecture, the haute fashion and hot guys with those knee-weakening accents… Mon Dieu! Rich and I stayed in this tres cool boutique place called Mon Hotel www.monhotel.fr, owned by a good friend of my good friend Philippe Varnier, CEO of Polyconcept — the parent company of Leed’s, Bullet Line and Journal Books, and the largest hard goods supplier of ad specialties in the world. Mon Hotel sells out for the French Open and Fashion Week, with the best athletes and top models staying there. The decor is very chic and very French — the walls in the rooms papered in suede and the elevator, lined with red leather. In fact, up until a few years ago, the hotel was the site of Paris’ most well-known — and best — brothel. Giving a whole new meaning to the phrase, “going out with a bang, not a whimper.” ; ) See below for an array of amazing photos from Paris. Next up on Michele’s Amazingly Excellent Adventures is the PPACanada Show in Toronto. Let me know if you’ll be there. And for all my friends at the PPAI Vegas Show who have been calling/texting/e-mailing, I miss you too! More next week… Cheers! — M
Friday
January 9, 2009 PSI Dusseldorf: Heavy Traffic, Suave Italians and Bare Naked Ladies…Filed under: Personal, PSI Shows Hi from the Fabulous PSI Show! For those who may have been worried about the economy’s affect on the show’s attendance, their fears were allayed quickly, as the event drew a record number of distributors. If you haven’t been to the PSI Dusseldorf Show, it is the world’s largest ad specialty event, with over 900 suppliers taking up more than 500,000 square feet of exhibit space. The booths are spectacularly stunning, as Europeans put a heavy emphasis on design, display and presentation. And, because every booth has ample seating and serves food, soft drinks and cocktails, it encourages distributors to stay longer in each booth, and to really take the time to discuss business and build relationships. As an example, myself, my “work husband” Ron Ball, ASI’s vice president of supplier sales, and Rich Fairfield, ASI’s senior vice president/publisher (the poor soul who’s our boss — he often uses the word “unmanageable” to describe Ron and I) stopped by the Italian Association’s booth to visit my friend Lorenzo, the director. While there (at 11:00 a.m., mind you), we were served the best parmasean cheese, prosciutto and Chianti I’ve ever had. Needless to say, our meeting lasted for an hour, which is about the time most distributors spend in an exhibitor’s booth. For me, it’s just a special thrill to engage in sanctioned drinking before noon — it’s delightfully fun, without that pesky feeling of being a degenerate rummy. And it was awesome to see friends from the U.S. industry — such as Gemline’s Jonathan Isaacson, Pearl Luck Trading’s Herb Levy, Hit Promotional Products’ Bill Schmidt, JMTek’s Kyu Lee, IMC’s Wendy Simons and Barry Fogel (who exhibited), Ogio’s Nick Wright and Prime Line’s Jeff Lederer — on the show floor and walking around the city. Rich and I stayed on Polyconcept’s “hotel boat” as guests of my beloved ones, the company’s CEO Philippe Varnier and its CFO, Yann Leca. It was TOO much fun, as was the show itself. Check out the photos below and more soon from Paris, where Rich and I are now heading for the weekend. I’m a total Francophile, so France is my happy place. J’adore Paris!!! Here’s my lofty goal for the weekend: Have a torrid, steamy affair with a long-haired, inappropriately young French guy, where we smoke cigarettes, drink great wine and sit in cafes debating the madness of Modigliani. Because, as Oscar Wilde (who, like Jim Morrison, is buried in Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris) once said: “To get back my youth, I’d do anything in the world — except exercise, get up early or be respectable.” ; ) Cheers!
Tuesday
January 6, 2009 Who Knew My Bra Would Be Mistaken as a Weapon of Mass Destruction?Filed under: Personal, PSI Shows, Travel Gutentagen from Frankfurt, Germany! It’s 6:00 a.m. here and I’m at the airport on my way to Dusseldorf for the PSI Show, Europe’s (and, in fact, the world’s) largest ad specialties show. Starting tomorrow, the show is set to welcome 21,000 attendees visiting over 500,000 square feet of exhibitors’ booth space. It is huge, it is wildly impressive and it is one of the best-run shows I’ve ever been to, featuring the year’s most innovative and chic product designs on display. It’s here where you see the creativity first, before it gets knocked off in China. The flight from Philly to Frankfurt lasted almost eight hours, which is a cake walk compared to the 18-hour special brand of airborne hell I’ll be on in April when I fly to Asia for the Canton Show and Hong Kong Gift Fair. Let me know if you’re going… We can plan on medicating together! The flight was also unexpectedly pleasant… I fly so often that I’ve become a jaded, bitchy traveler, one who sinks sullenly into her own fur coat on the plane rather than interact with anyone, and who listens to her iPod with a distinct “Disturb at Your Own Risk” aura enveloping her. But on this particular flight, I sat with a 10-year-old German boy named Jannick (his parents were a few rows behind us) who was so precocious he told me he wants to grow up and live at Disneyland, but commute daily via his own plane to Wall Street where he’ll be an investment banker. This child was so self-assured, I have no doubt he’ll do it. Rock on, my little Gordon Gekko! Next to him was 20-year-old Ryan from Cherry Hill, NJ, who was going to Europe for the first time to attend school in France for five months. He was so enthusiastic and full of optimism, I thought he was adorable. Or, maybe it was the fact that he asked if I was “a grad student.” God bless dim boys and dimmer airplane lighting. If it wouldn’t have bordered on a felony, I would have kissed him on the spot. The three of us had a delightful time watching movies in sync, so much so that when I disembarked the plane, I had a renewed zeal and zest for travel. Right up until the point when I set off the metal detectors in the security line in Frankfurt. What was the reason, you may wonder? That would be my underwire bra, which — when the security agent waved the wand over me — sent the alarms screeching. Of course after a spectacle like that, the hands-on body search is imminent. I will tell you: There’s nothing quite like entering a foreign country at 6:00 a.m. and being felt up by a burly German woman. At least she could have sprung for flowers and breakfast… ; ) Cheers and more tomorrow from Dusseldorf, where I will be staying aboard Polyconcept’s floating hotel boat, as a guest of the ever-suave and charming Philippe Varnier, the company’s chairman/CEO, and my favorite dance partner, Yann Leca, its CFO. Can. Not. Wait. — M
Monday
December 29, 2008 You Say You Want a Resolution…Happy Holidays, Everyone! As I type this in the last remaining days of 2008, I’m full of hope and optimism. Yeah, there’s the fact that we’ll soon have a president who uses three-syllable words without making us cringe and knows that the Bill of Rights isn’t a list of suggestions. But in addition to that, I’ve always been a fan of that clean slate feeling you get at the start of a brand new year — like shaking an Etch-a-Sketch that erases all the crappy, idiotic things you’ve done throughout the previous one. And while I’ve never been one to ponder things pensively in retrospect (I’m more of a “let’s get on with it and move forward” kind of girl), I do have some resolutions for 2009, most of which I will have selectively ignored in roughly two weeks. 1. Stop procrastinating. To be clear, there are few tasks that I don’t put off until the very last possible minute. There’s probably some clinical, psychological term for this, though Joe Haley, the managing editor of ASI’s magazines, has his own description for the special brand of hell it causes him when my magazine is in production or a profile I’m writing isn’t finished as we’re literally going to the printer the next day: “When you’re on deadline,” Joe sighs, “a little piece of me dies every day.” Rather than work on a profile for an issue of Counselor, I once WILLINGLY watched a marathon of “The Hills,” that insipid reality show on MTV, starring mentally deficient pretty people in all their vapid, moronic glory. It was an eight-hour marathon and I watched it all. I know… I need to be under the care of a whole team of mental health professionals. 2. Get organized and prioritize. Instead of methodically tackling one project at a time, my strategy is more akin to a drunken baby wielding a shotgun and firing off scattered rounds. I jump from project to project, until the end of the day when I have different items in various states of completion. I’m sure I have some ADD/OCD/ADHD issues that keep me from concentrating for any length of time for which I should seek medicinal relief — and God knows I’m not opposed to pills — but it just seems so, I don’t know, trendy to blame one’s inability to focus on some sort of short-circuiting brain waves. Crazy I can deal with; cliche is another story…. 3. Be better at keeping in touch with friends. To say I’ve been remiss in this area is putting it mildly. You know what it’s like — deadlines, travel, endless happy hours… and then the year’s over. I sent my Goddaughter a card last month wishing her a “Happy 13th Birthday!” That’s all well and good, except she’s 15 and I was there, in the room, when the child was born. Time flies when you’re being a spaz and not paying attention… Do you have any juicy resolutions? I’d love to hear them, so please do share! My favorite so far? Michael Bernstein, the vice chairman of Counselor Top 40 supplier Polyconcept and my most beloved of all my BFFs, shared his “greatest weakness and indulgence” with me recently: “Cigarettes and you, Michele.” Here’s hoping he doesn’t give up the latter! By the way, a hearty thanks to all of you who e-mailed me — after reading of my penchant for “sloth,” one of the deadly sins, in my last blog posting — that the History Channel is featuring a new series, “Seven Deadly Sins” week starting on Monday, 12/29 at 9:00 p.m. EST, spotlighting one sin on each of the seven nights. They have an ironic sense of humor over there at the History Channel — the week kicks off with a bang tonight with “Lust,” “Gluttony” is on New Year’s Eve and my beloved “Sloth” is on New Year’s Day. I will be commemorating the High Holy Day for lazy, self-indulgent people everywhere with some celebratory napping. So I hope you all have a fabulous 2009 and I look forward to seeing you at upcoming shows! I’ll be at the PSI Dusseldorf Show (Europe’s largest promotional products show — so huge, in fact, that it dwarfs the PPAI Vegas Show) next week, the always-awesome PPACanada Show in Toronto from January 23-27 and the ASI Dallas Show from February 4-6 (one of my favorites), and will be a blogging and photo snapping fiend at each show. If you see me, come over and say hi! In conclusion, I’d like to think that Hunter S. Thompson, the crazy gonzo journalist, excess-embracing loon and one near and dear to my heart, had it right when considering one’s goals in life: “Maybe it all comes down to this,” Thompson said. “Laughing loud, drinking much, sleeping late, having fun, getting wild and driving fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested.” So here’s to an awesome 2008 and an even better 2009, aptly described with some lyrics from a song that always epitomizes optimism and hope to me, from the musical “Rent,” about a year in a life… Five hundred twenty-five thousand Cheers and Happy New Year! — M
Wednesday
December 10, 2008 A Few of My Favorite Things…Filed under: Editorial, Fun, Personal Hi Everyone — As we’re in the midst of the holiday season and the year’s almost finished, I’m going to take a page out of Oprah’s book and devote some time to a sampling of the coolest items that wowed me this year and made me swoon — both from in and outside the industry. Unfortunately, unlike Oprah, I won’t be giving away any cars, houses or bras. So here, without further ado, are my favorite things (note that “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens” didn’t make the cut… ; ) ). More next week and cheers! — M PS: If there were any wow-worthy products that you found this year, post them below — I’d love to see them!
And now, some items for the degenerate in us all (or at least the people to whom I gravitate). When the economy goes bad, sin is in, my little heathens — though in Michele World, it always has a place of honor. Here then, are some gift suggestions for those of us who know the special pleasures of being bad… ; )
Tuesday
November 25, 2008 Life (at ASI) is a Cabaret…Hi Everyone — I’m leaving tomorrow morning to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with my family, who have a home in Sanibel, Florida. While I will be reveling in the warm weather and limiting my mother, Judge Judye (again, she doesn’t preside over trials, but she is judgemental, in that special way moms can be… ; ) ) to three nags per day, I wanted to share with you photos from ASI’s first annual “Roaring ’20s” Cabaret night. An aside: I really don’t know if this will be a yearly event — it’s more just me being hopeful in case the Powers that Be (that’s you, Tim Andrews!) are reading… With “bootleg” cocktails, gangster hats, feather boas and flappers in abundance, I can tell you that this event — hosted by president/CEO Tim Andrews and ASI’s “Fun Committee,” was one for the books. Now, for those of you who know me, I’m not the type of girl to be overly-effusive, but I had a BLAST! (And not just because wine was involved…). The evening was hosted by American Idol finalist Justin Guarini, who could not have been a more gracious, engaging host, and featured some of ASI’s best in-house “talent” singing karaoke. Justin, incidentally, is the spokesperson for industry supplier BamBam’s (asi/38228) trademarked “Rollabana” so he’s already “in the know” about the ad specialty business. Here, then, are a wide variety of photos — the good, the bad and the disturbing (you’ll know it when you see it, but it involves my tongue hanging out of my mouth like a hungry basset hound). It will definitely explain why people truly enjoy working at ASI, and why many — including myself — stayed for so many years. Happy Thanksgiving and more next week! Cheers! — M
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Here, ASI’s President’s Council — the group of senior vice presidents who lead the company and report directly to Tim Andrews — yucking it up to “YMCA” by the Village People, led by Rich Fairfield (left) and senior vice president Dale Denham, someone who never met a mic he didn’t like. ; )
