MSG After-Party

As Bowie and his band made their bows and curtsies from the stage of Madison Square Garden last Monday night, I was at the souvenir stand getting a program for Liz in London. She had attended some dozen shows around Europe and failed to acquire even one. Since she had kindly sent me a copy of "Playing For Uncle Sam, The Brit's Story Of The North American Soccer League," I thought it only right to get her a program from the show.

The souvenir stand was operated by the actual two incompetent woman you expected. They had no time for customers, they were chatting about their nails and comparing the manicures they’d gotten which resulted in each of them having ten fingers with five inch nails! Watching them try to handle money and merchandise (especially their feeble attempts to roll posters) would have been hilarious if it hadn't taken them nine minute to get to the third customer: me!

I made my way to Seventh Avenue, down Thirty-Third Street, into the back door of my building and up to the apartment before most Bowie fans had given up their final hope for a surprise second encore. Face it: if Bowie has sung "Ziggy Stardust" as the twenty-fifth song, it is over!

I had to make my way home quickly so I could collect Mrs. Mac and attend the big after-show party at Siberia. There were two bands scheduled and a fashion show. We were asked to be judges of the fashion show competition. Before leaving the apartment, I quickly printed eight signs with a large "10" on each. Judges have to judge and holding up numbers is always an effective method.

We easily got a taxi to Siberia and found the standard Siberian chaos inside: motorcycles parked in the middle of the room, jukebox playing bad music too loudly, general confusion about "what the hell kind of a party is this anyhow," lots of people to greet.

Mrs. Mac lasted just a short time. This was not her scene and the lateness of the hour, combined with the impossibility of figuring out the proceedings and schedule, led us to find her a cab even before the bands began.

After milling about a bit, I noticed the bands were ready to go but they had yet to start. It was getting late and it was a school night. I was given the honor of acting emcee.

Robbie Blender has a stage presence that reminds of Marc Bolan and Eddie Izzard, only younger and cuter. Robbie tore through a solo set charged by Thunders-esque strumming and the enthusiasm of any ten drag queens. His set ended too quickly for me, and I was promised I would be told when he will next appear with his band.

Saphin was up next and they managed a multi-media show that was rather extravagant for the modest technology of the space. High-energy dance music and costume changes made this short set whiz by faster than it should have. Excellent songs and an excellent band always make for an entertaining act. I look forward to seeing a full show by Saphin right after the New Year.

Next order of business was a Fashion Show of Bowie fans strutting their stuff for fun and prizes. Mrs. Mac and I were invited to be judges, and though she couldn't last until it started, I sat on a panel of judges that had the best time viewing and judging the following:

MandN: Best Bondage Witch Who's Most Likely To Pratfall: gothic, gauzy and sexy. Corset and skirt, Lace-up black shoes and stockings.

NancyH: Best Reality Act, complete with The Belt That Makes Everyone Hot, trousers with zip 'round fly and slappy belt.

Eammon: Best DQ, with the cutest little bod and the most infectious smile!

TV Queen Bitch: Best TV, Best Tits, Best Red Dress, Best Ink. So swishy in his satin and tat!

Saxonny and Gwyn: Best Girlie Glam Tag Team and Male Fantasy. Riding crop, black boots, leather and red corsets, frilly cuffs, handcuffs. Best Beating For Dick Mac.

Cartal: Best Names Brand. All the best names listed on all the brightest clothes.

Cavebat: Best Snow Globe. Amazing! You shuold have seen it.

AlanDyer: Best Royalty. Screamin’ Lord Nawlins, the King of Bowie Gras.

I probably forgot someone, and for that I apologize. Had I written this immediately after the party, it would be more accurate (and that today’s lesson).

I had a blast and it was so late, or is that early, into the morning that I had to say all my good-byes and make my way back home.

I can't wait for another party at Siberia with that lot!