Republicans Rising
THE BEST THING about the New York Young Republican Club is that I'm relatively young among that crowd. They're also the only conservative group in town that hasn't removed me from their mailing list. This is probably because I've never heard anything interesting enough in a Young Republican meeting to warrant writing about it and pissing off some dweeb who insists that conservative gatherings are always off the record.
They're all likely Kerry voters, too, ranging from the overqualified bike messenger with the absurd facial hair to the 50-year-old beardo clutching his copy of Spin. I step out to the Upper West Side, and there's no happy chatter in the streets. There's no chatter at all-only various grim processions.
I feel like skipping. By the time I walk past the Newsweek building, I'm anticipating the sweet sound of Eleanor Clift's body hitting the pavement. I get something better. A stylish older lady is striding along and scowling into her cellphone: "Well, of course he'll win Ohio." I don't have to wonder which candidate is being discussed. It's a perfect Manhattan moment of disdain for the heartland, tempered with Upper West Side obliviousness about why someone would bring up a place like Ohio when there's an election at stake.
I make it to the Salisbury Hotel, and am quickly intercepted by a stern doorman. He informs me that the Young Republicans have "come to their senses." Yes, I agree, they probably came to their senses back when they saw the FICA deduction on the paychecks from their first summer jobs.
As it turns out, the Young Republicans had brought way too many people into their hotel room. They've been forced to move their party to a restaurant down the street. I take this as another good sign. It isn't until later that someone explains that the New York Post has named the Young Republican event as one of the night's big political parties. This brings the headcount up to about 75 people.
The room's still crowded enough that I head downtown without getting any election results. The night's only getting more pleasant, so I stroll down to check out the giant Electoral College map that NBC has laid out on the Rockefeller Center ice rink. It's already obvious that Kerry needs Ohio. I remain cautious, however, until I walk past the CNN election-coverage set in the ground floor of the NASDAQ building in Times Square. Wolf Blitzer is off-camera and looks ready to cry.
New York Press calls the election for G.W. Bush shortly after 11 p.m. Real confirmation, however, doesn't come until I stop by the 40/40 Club-chosen as another hot political party zone by the Post-and find that the club's televisions are all showing a basketball game. This particularly baffles two young gals who thought Jon Stewart might be in the house.
I have to explain that all the celebrities have decided to stay in tonight. It's not even likely that club owner Jay-Z will be stopping by to celebrate Ken Salazar's big Democratic win in Colorado. Personally, I'm more interested in seeing his business partner the following night. The blue states are mourning, but there's a decent crowd at NYU's Skirball Center, where Roc-A-Fella CEO Damon Dash is being interviewed by Professor Jason King of NYC's Clive Davis Department of Recorded Music.
"He's a white man," notes one attending journalist of Mr. Davis. That wouldn't stop Clive from being a far more knowledgeable speaker than Professor King, who's also one of our country's worst rap critics. King doesn't disappoint with an entrance worthy of Cousin Brucie. He marches to his podium and wondrously announces, "Hiphop at NYU-I love it!" Yes, it's not as if any hiphop empires have ever been launched from one of the college's dorm rooms.
As should be expected, this multimedia educational experience is packaged more like a Roc-A-Fella infomercial. The night starts with a performance from soulster Rell, and there's a 10-minute promotional video celebrating the extensive Roc-A-Fella product line. The action finally settles into a vibe similar to Inside the Actor's Studio, with hiphop sycophant King fitting in perfectly as an ersatz James Lipton.
The professor's fawning attitude is best summed up when King's introduction addresses the influence of cinema on Dash's empire: "He drew on films about immigrant ambition and success, like The Godfather and Scarface." Don't forget touching immigrant tales such as The Thing and Invaders from Mars.
King's a sadly stilted interviewer ("You come from what some would describe as humble beginnings"), but Dash remains my favorite media mogul. You won't find many hiphop icons casually admitting that they passed up early scholarships because they missed their mothers. I'll continue to have my doubts about the evening's educational benefits, but Dash provides one indisputable truth about diversification: "If I was depending on the music business, I'd be broke."
It's encouraging when Dash gets wild cheers by claiming, "Just because I'm urban doesn't mean I have to do urban things." There's a nice break from keeping it real. King tries to get Dash to address societal ills, but the happiest millionaire instead explains the importance of his own kids having a work ethic.
Dash also nails the hypocritical media by describing his rap acts' most socially redeeming moments as "the songs that radio won't play." King then spoils the moment by congratulating himself for conquering NYU's prejudice against Roc-A-Fella by comparing Dash's work to that of Martin Scorsese. I'll remember that the next time Joe Pesci gets involved in a drive-by.
I'm still not sure who's supposed to be learning from all this. Roc-A-Fella's own Clark Kent is asked to define "A&R," and King himself defines "entrepreneurship." Puff Daddy knew that crap before graduating from sixth grade. To be fair, this is hardly a typical class for Professor King. In an inspired pairing, invited members of the press have been seated next to special education students who've taken a field trip on the short bus. This allows me to enjoy an additional educational exchange on the topic of Who The Hell Has The Nerve To Be Telling Who To Be Shutting The Hell Up?
The discussion nearly rivals the Great Debate of the 1992 Screening of Universal Soldier in Times Square. It's a welcome distraction from how King loses control of the evening toward the end. There's nothing wrong with Dash using the forum as a chance to push Roc-A-Fella's new Rocbox MP3 Player and Pro-Keds shoe line. As Dash notes, he's a natural hustler. Besides, someone has to take over once King is reduced to asking the Roc-A-Fella staff to sum up their boss with a single adjective.
As it turns out, politics don't come up at all. I guess King has recently learned that college kids don't have that much of an interest. The closest that conversation ever gets to the election is when Dash notes how proud he is to have been part of the "Vote or Die" campaign. King nods solemnly-wasting a precious chance to educate his class by saying, "Christ, how much money did you blow on that stupid idea?"
I should really give Dash enough credit to consider that he could've educated the kids on creative investment in a non-profit project. As I leave the hall, though, I'm mulling over how Dash might now be my second-favorite media mogul. Michael Moore's my new hero, because at least he managed to take millions from lemming-like lefties. And Fahrenheit 9/11 is now actually funny.