One Way Or Another...It Sucked

I used to really dig Blondie's music in high school and college, and Debbie Harry, the lead singer, always seemed to be a pretty cool chick. She recently wrote a memoir called "The 1000 people I had Sex With in NYC in the 70s," and is on tour promoting it. Actually, that's not the title of the book -- it's instead about, apparently, art work her fans did of her over the years.

The Miami Book Fair is going on now, and Harry was a featured speaker. I really enjoy the Fair -- it's grown into the main book fair in the entire country. People travel from all over to hear writers speak, and there is a lovely street festival where you can find anything you wish.

Over the years, I've seen hundreds of great speakers. Highlights were Saul Bellow, who I actually got to ask a question to (and he said it was a GOOD question -- my Dad would have been proud), Gene Roddenberry, Joe Biden, and Patti Smith. Patti was terrific -- she explained a book she had written about Greenwich Village in the 70s, when it was sleazy and creative, and she even sang the great song she wrote with the Boss, "Because the Night."

So it was with nice anticipation that I got tickets for Debbie Harry -- along with Wifey, and friends Kenny and Joelle.  We pre gamed at their house, and then slogged up to MiMo, to a great restaurant D1 had taken me to: Osteria Baiocco, in an old house in Morningside. Indeed, the meal was amazing -- the place is owned by a Milanese man, and his first restaurant outside of Italy. The food is wonderful, and in contrast to Il Gabbiano, the great Italian place Downtown, does not require one take out a mortgage to eat there...

Given the awful traffic -- the Heat were playing at the same time the Book Fair was going on -- we Ubered to Miami Dade Wolfson campus. The main room was packed -- probably 1000 people inside. We took our seats, and Debbie Harry, her longtime boyfriend and bandmate Chris Stein, and some gay artist guy acting as mediator took the stage.

And then...womp, womp. It was awful. Questions went nowhere. The former beauty, now looking grotesque with a platinum wig and plastic surgery face, had a terrible personality. She acted as if we were lucky to be in her presence. The banter was akin to an inside joke -- and we were all outside. "Oh -- that party at Jerry's -- Bob and Candy were there, right?"  Who were Jerry, Bob, and Candy?

The audience all seemed anxious to hear talk about her music career -- or even NYC in the 70s, or quirky facts about her many, many lovers. Nah. Stupid anecdotes about cable TV shows no one watched. Photos of parties 45 years old.

Finally, I turned to Kenny and Joelle. We were on the same wavelength -- let's make like trees and leaf. Wifey thought it MUST be getting better. It didn't. We made our way to Biscayne Boulevard, and UBered back to the restaurant -- laughing about how absurdly bad the lecture, as it wanted to be called, was.

I guess one clunker since 1984 is a good track record. Indeed -- Saturday I'm going back, with D1. Great pals Dave Barry and Carl Hiassen are speaking. There was a great tale in the news this week -- a U Miami professor who is an expert on international money laundering, was arrested for international money laundering. I'm sure Hiassen will bring that up -- he famously said the toughest part of being a Miami novelist was that nothing you could conjure up is as strange as what actually happens here.

After I drop D1 off, I'm going to fetch Wifey for another classic event -- our alma maters play each other in football -- Canes versus Golden Panthers, at Marlins Park. It'll be great to see my boys play on hallowed ground -- the site of the now demolished Orange Bowl.

So it's a great time to be in the 305. Debbie Harry was actually born here, and then given up for adoption and taken to New Jersey. I hope she stays there. She wasted a lot of peoples' time last night -- but made a memory for us nonetheless.