After an exhaustive design competition – and millions of dollars spent – Manka Bros., in our search for a new exciting logo for the 21st century has decided to revert to the past in order to push forward into the future.
THE ICONIC MANKA OX LOGO – designed by my uncle – the great Khan Manka (Sr.) – IS BACK!
Supposedly, the origin was that my Uncle was infuriated that Louis B. Mayer had the balls to use a lion as his logo. He would say (paraphrasing) – “I’ve never seen such a pussy try to act so tough – trotting out that lion like he’s Tarzan or some shit.”
My Uncle (and his brothers) grew up with an Ox. They were raised in a one room shack in Bulgaria.
My Uncle used to ride the Ox while plowing the field for their meager potato crop – which yielded barely enough to feed the Ox.
The Ox means survival.
The Ox means strength.
The Ox means new technologies, platforms and international expansion.
The Ox means MANKA BROS.
After Khan Manka’s death in 1937, my father – the asshole Harry Manka – said he always hated the Ox logo and tried to design several logos himself but failed miserably every time (see below).
Eventually, in 1948, my father ran into the designer Herbert Bayer in Aspen, CO.
My father attempted to have the Austrian arrested for being a Nazi in hiding – but he proved to be incredibly wrong. Bayer was actually forced out of Germany by the Nazis in 1938 and settled in the U.S.
My father never apologized but did pay him $10 to design a new logo (see right).
Bayer needed the work – so he did it – and it became the logo for Manka Bros. for 65 years.
P.S. – The company-wide Holiday party scheduled to be at the Pickwick Bowling Alley and Ice Skating Rink in Burbank has been cancelled. Details to come at some point.
A completely… totally… unbelievably fucked up summer.
And everyone is at fault.
But mostly, the fault lies in our film slate development strategy.
The reason?
ORIGINAL FILMS FAIL
Did you morons seriously believe we’d have a global, four-quadrant hit with “Monty” (the animated praying mantis who becomes an atheist)?
Or “Flap Yo Wings”? A hugely overbudget original 1930s-era musical?
From this day forward, I do not want any of you Ivy League eggheads to think creatively again.
From this day forward, we only produce sequels of previously popular films; adaptations from popular books (preferably from our Manka Books division); and other popular IP such as board games and cartoon characters.
I do NOT want to hear about anything I have never heard about before!
Capisce?
Hey, Robin Rafe, what made you think “The End Of Daves” was a home run? And what made you think July 4th weekend was the perfect time for it?
Because of you idiots, this past summer may be the last summer I am able to spend at my house in the Seychelles.
Thanks for ruining the best three months I spend all year!
I can’t wait to see how our next original film will do – “The Beer Hunter” – sounds hilarious – only it’s NOT A FUCKING COMEDY!
Great work, guys.
Really looking forward to the failures we have in 2014.
So – to be clear – I want everyone in theatrical (and television, for that matter) development to call your agent contacts and tell them all to fuck off with their original ideas. I want only sequels of hits and other movies based on strong previously popular IP.
Hell, why don’t we just start making our own version of “The Wizard Of Oz”? Apparently, no one has the rights.
And I know we haven’t started shooting the “Captain Stoppo” movie yet – but let’s get going on a sequel as well. Or better yet, we should start thinking about five of everything before we start a project.
And if I hear of one writer or producer in a pitch meeting that tries to slip in an idea that they thought up all by themselves, I will have them thrown off the lot and ruined forever in show business.
Thirty-five years ago, an Exorcist was sent to Stage 8 on the Manka Bros. Studios lot.
Strange shit was happening there and the only logical explanation was ghosts.
The film being shot on the stage was a horrible roller disco movie called “Juggle Boogie” – a sort of “Hatfields & McCoys” story about two rival juggling families who both owned roller discos across the street from one another.
I had only been on the job as head of studio for a little over a year. My father died in 1976 (and is buried underneath the Main Admin building – Bldg. 2) and left me the “keys” to the studio at the tender age of 18.
And now we, apparently, had a demonic possession of one of our sounds stages. Something I really didn’t want to deal with. At that age, I just wanted to be playing in my band, the amazing “King Khan.”
But I digress…
Initially, the reports of doors banging and food disappearing were easily blamed on cats, rats and the fat Studio Tour guide (Randy Wilcox) that used to steal all the food off of various production sets.
But when the all cats, rats and Randy Wilcox were discovered dead one morning, we knew something was afoot.
I had always heard rumors that the land where the Manka Bros. Studios currently resides was once used for a few Keystone Cops productions directed by Mack Sennett and that there was, in fact, an unsolved massacre of several Cops during a particularly grueling movie shoot.
Supposedly – and this has never been mentioned in public before – the murdered Cops were buried under the area now known as Manka Bros. Stage 8.
I happen to know for a fact that while the incident is true – it actually happened at Universal and the poor Keystone Cops who were slaughtered are actually buried in a mass grave under Universal Studios Stage 12.
What all that means is that we didn’t know what the fuck was going on at Manka Bros. Stage 8.
(And any of you Margie Louise conspiracy theorists can take a hike – that murder is unsolved, not relevant, and I will one day write about it… not today.)
So – back to the story – the Exorcist (I think he was from Tujunga) was called in. His named was Father Cain and I recognized him.
It turns out, Father Cain was an actor (Cain Montgomery) that used to audition for TV shows but never got a part. Sort of like those whack jobs who try to be actors for years and then decide to become palm readers and spiritual guides.
Father Cain said he saw “The Exorcist” and thought that would be a really cool job.
When he entered Stage 8, his eyes rolled back in his head and he started to jerk around like an acting class chicken (very unconvincing).
Because “Juggle Boogie” was already three months over schedule and nearly $1 million over budget (1978 dollars!) we continued to shoot while Father Cain attempted to exorcise the demons.
To his credit, Father Cain immediately found the demons – they weren’t very clever – and ordered them to leave the sound stage.
The demons were pretty harmless – just playing backgammon and trying to trip up the actors as they skated by.
It turns out, the “demons” were just some old character actors who my father wouldn’t let out of their “lifetime contracts” and, basically, kept ownership of their souls.
Father Cain and the Manka Bros. Legal department told me it would be very simple to rid the stage of the ghosts – just let the dead actors out of their contract obligations and they’ll ascend either into Heaven or Hell depending on the way they conducted their lives.
I refused. A deal is a deal.
To this day, there is a still a bunch of weird shit happening on Stage 8.
P.S. – Why the cats, rats and Randy Wilcox died is still a mystery. Maybe it was because of all that “demon poison” that some idiot prop guy kept putting out before they called the Exorcist.
I’m sure the planners of these conferences (not just Herb Allen’s but corporate offsites the world over) always dream great things will happen – that an idea will emerge that changes the world; that partnerships will form to create new and better companies… such wasted optimism.
And at the beginning of the week, most attendees seem to go along with the party line (drinking the Kool-aid and vodka, if you will).
And even though I have been cynical from the beginning (read every Day 1 post I’ve ever had from previous conferences (2009 – 2010 – 2011 – 2012 – and 2013) – deep down there is a slight tinge of hope that this might be worth my time.
But then the week drags on – and we drink at the bar late at night – have a hangover breakfast with lots of greasy meats – go to some mindless panel about how important content, sports and new distribution platforms are in all our lives – play golf – get drunk – eat wedding caliber food – get drunk some more (repeat repeat repeat)…
Maybe it’s because most of the attendees (like me) are so old and set in our ways.
Perhaps the new ideas will come from the Herb Allen III conference in Phoenix next year (because Herb Allen III is younger!) that focuses on new media… younger moguls, newer, fresher ideas (based on older, staler ideas) – a new energy that everyone seems to need.
Or not.
The biggest problem with Herb Allen’s Sun Valley Conference is the new moguls all try to act like old moguls – try to hang with the heavy scotch drinkers and cigar smokers, try to wear the Polo shirts that only an old mogul can look right in… it’s not easy to be an old mogul and actually look like an old mogul.
Out of the millions of stiff, awkward middle managers in media companies around the world only one or at most two will rise to become a true mogul (i.e., Ben Silverman will never be a mogul – try though he may; and the jury is definitely still out on Thomas Tull who is attempting to buy his way into moguldom).
You can’t fake it. It has to be organic.
Image Courtesy Of Manka Bros. Media Blogger: OnMedea http://mankabros.com/blogs/onmedea
It was originally titled Day 3 – “China” – because there was a huge focus today on China opportunities and how do media companies (and businesses in general) crack that Chinese nut?
First of all, you can’t (there’s that cynicism again!). But it’s absolutely true.
To get the scale in China that companies need would require being able to grow our businesses into significantbusinesses. Just making a few bucks here and there and having a movie work every once in a while isn’t going to cut it. We need to have a significant presence in China to make it worth all this effort.
And as soon as a foreign company gets a significant presence in China – the Chinese government will dial you back. They may not kick you out but they may decide not to distribute your movie for “censorship issues,” or not to release your new handset because of “environmental reasons”(ridiculous, right?) or not offer your content in a streaming service due to some other excuse that the government won’t even attempt to make creative or fair.
I led a panel this morning on “How To Properly Bribe Chinese Officials.” I’ve written on this in the past – and have learned over the years you can actually get a lot more accomplished by offering bottles of Slivovitz and cartons of American cigarettes than by offering cash or personal favors (i.e., helping to get a Chinese government official’s kid get into Harvard, etc.)
We just have to be realistic about China. It’s fine if your expectations are low and you are okay with having a small business and making a little bit of money or using the cheap labor to build your toys and American flags. But for distributing content and for growing a huge, profitable business – China sucks and will always suck.
The only excitement left at this year’s conference (and wasn’t Building-A-Bike and a nauseous river raft ride enough excitement for one person) is tomorrow’s media panel with Rupert Murdoch,John Malone and Barry Diller (the same team from yesterday’s disastrous “Build-A-Bike”exercise).
Watching three guys who really hate each other attempting to be cordial (while offering nothing new) should be truly entertaining.
Or not at all. That’s the problem – just when you think maybe something will come out of the conference, nothing does.
Outside of that, the drunkening continues.
I have now been forced to make my own drinks because Vin Tran has had some sort of breakdown and can barely function (he talks often about bringing shame to his family).
There is a rumor the great Bin Tran will triumphantly return for the final night of the conference since his daughter gave birth yesterday (congratulations, Bin – never go away again).
And the year before for that was the disastrous Burning Mogul.
This year, Herb decided to focus on team building. And what better way to do that than by building a bunch of bikes for underprivileged kids in the Sun Valley area (which probably means those kids whose parents earn less than $1 million).
My initial reaction was exactly the same as Sheryl Sandberg’s who said: “What kind of crappy ass bullshit is this waste of goddamned fucking time?!”
After a morning with Roger Goodell talking about how great the NFL is and a presentation by Larry Page talking about how great Google is (the only negatives seemed to be that both the NFL and Google have an extraordinary number of head injuries) – we now have to build bikes.
Herb Allen’s Sun Valley Conference – Early 1900s
Bikes are a big part of Herb’s Sun Valley gatherings. We all ride around on them all week looking like dorks.
Bikes were even a part of the very first Herb Allen gathering – presumably with Herb Allen’s grandfather (Sr. minus 1) – back in the early 1900s (see right).
But seriously, we’ve all made our fortune building very successful teams. You don’t get to the top of the media world without a little bit of knowledge on how build a winning team.
So nearly everyone complained when we all gathered in the Great Hall of the Moguls and saw a big pile of bike parts in the middle several round tables.
Kazuo Hirai’s “Fuck this!” was probably the loudest one I heard in the room (and there were many).
But as we got into the exercise, I began to realize the value and learning how difficult it is for a room full of arrogant pricks to actually work together and produce anything at all. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned here.
See, we moguls don’t have to do anything by ourselves. We are driven everywhere, our food is prepared for us, everything we own is always taken care of by others… if you do something yourself, you are weak and a loser. Some of us even have our own ass wiped (I promise not to mention any names, Harvey).
But we weren’t just going to be building bikes (and this is where the genius of Herb Allen really shines through), we were going to be building bikes with people we hate.
Rupert Murdoch was teamed with his sons James and Lachlan…
Barry Diller was teamed with Leslie Moonves and John Malone…
I could go on and on with hateful matching – but, basically, if one person was known to hate another person, they were put on the same team.
Because Herb knew that I would probably either not show up or not want to participate, he made me a facilitator . I just had to walk around the room and make sure people were completing their task.
The Great Gong Of The Moguls
Each team had 30 minutes. Herb Allen banged the Great Gong of the Moguls (left) and everyone started to build their bikes.
The first table I stopped at was with the team of Thomas Tull, Brian Roberts, Steve Burke and Jeff Bewkes. Tull and his new Comcast NBC Universal brethren seemed to be working together pretty well – with Jeff Bewkes disengaged, looking at his phone.
[For the record, Manka Bros. officially passed on a deal with Legendary weeks ago after Mr. Tull requested (on top of an insultingly low theatrical distribution fee of 8%) my parking space, complete access to my executive spa and vomitorium and a further demand that I call him “Lord Thomas.” The distribution fee I could stomach but the other things – all non-starters.]
After a few moments of harmony, things started to break down and Thomus Tull got really frustrated that he wasn’t being allowed to build the bike all by himself. So he decided to go to an unassigned table and build another bike himself. The Comcast guys tried to get him to stay by saying: “Lord Thomas, please, let’s give it another shot… you can put the wheels on… we won’t interfere… etc. etc.. (Humorous anecdote: When he tried to ride his bike at the end, the wheels fell off.)
I then moved over to Rupert Murdoch’s table. Rupertwasyelling at his son James “Righty tighty! Lefty loosey, you idiot!” Lachlan then repeated what he dad said but with less enthusiasm. “Chase Carey knows how to screw on a bolt!”
Things were really heated at the Barry Diller, Les Moonves and John Malone table. Definitely no love loss there. No one had budged an inch to start the process. Finally, Barry Diller said: “Whatever, let’s just fucking put this thing together and get to the bar.”
Les Moonves got right up in Barry’s face: “I hope you brought one of the little antennas, the TV in the bar ain’t free for you.”
Barry Diller: “I definitely brought enough little antennas for your mother! I think it’s adorable how you defend something so old as broadcast television. Like helping an old lady across the street.”
Les Moonves: “Yeah, I’d like to help your mother across the street!”
Barry Diller: “That’s not even an insult.”
John Malone got involved: “Frankly, I don’t care what you do to broadcast – but if you come after cable, Diller, I’m gonna have a problem with that. And you don’t want me or my karate friends in cable to have a problem.”
Barry Diller: “Oh my God, the testosterone of old media is so pathetic.”
I intervened before a silly slap fight broke out and reminded them of the task at hand.
I continued on. Most in the room were just talking or looking at their phones. There was one young group of Silicon Valley guys doing hacky-sack.
Then I heard one group finish because Sumner Redstone yelled “Bingo!”
Everyone looked over to see Sumner and Sergey Brin and Larry Page (with King Abdullah II of Jordan thrown in for good measure) posed in front of a gleaming new bike. They were all wearing Google Glass. (I don’t think Sumner remembered that the Google guys were also the YouTubeguys and that he was suing them for $1 billion.)
There was a non-caring disappointed groan in the room and then a non-caring round of applause for the winners.
And that was it – another Day 2 disaster at the Sun Valley conference.
The Build-A-Bike technicians came in at the end and finished all the bikes.
They actually turned out so cool that we all decided to keep the bikes for ourselves.
Because of my bad back, I passed on the river raft ride (there’s nothing more pathetic than a couple of hundred CEOs acting like they know how to white water raft).
I’m at the The Drankin’ Hole dictating this blog and then off to a BBQ hosted by Bobby Flay.
What will tomorrow bring? More bullshit. More crap. Don’t envy us. Our lives suck just as much as yours.
They put me in the Batman room this year. This room is not easy to get. I think it was scheduled to be Thomas Tull’s room – but well, you know, shit happens. So now it’s mine! (I’m sure the Time Warner guys aren’t too happy about that – but Jeff Bewkes actually requested the Nicolas Sparks’ “The Notebook” room – so it’s all good.)
You see, all of the rooms at the Sun Valley Lodge have a different theme.
There’s a Disney Princess room (probably for Bob Iger and his wife Thunder Bay – I think that’s her name); a Star Wars room (there is always a fight over which tech dork gets that one); a Harry Potter room (which is under the main staircase – another favorite among Time Warner people and Brits); a Haunted Alligators swamp room (a poor effort to throw a bone to a Manka Bros. IP); a Prison room (sometimes used to help a banker CEO get ready for real prison – ha!), etc. etc.
They should add a few Facebook rooms for those who don’t want any privacy at all – ha ha!
Themed rooms are great for families and sexually adventurous couples but really awful for a media mogul trying to get stuff done. Every time I call the concierge all I get back is “Yes, Batman” – “Of course, Batman” – “Right away, Batman.” Enough already!
And it doesn’t really matter what kind of agenda Herb “crafts” – it always comes down to the same shit: How the fuck is old media going to survive after traditional TV and film die an ugly death?
The answer is simple – we either roll over and wait for Google to acquire us all and then wait for our instructions… or we band together and acquire Google and Facebook and Apple and everyone else that is threatening our very existence and shut them down without mercy.
I like the second option.
In the meantime, I have avoided the press and retreated to The Drankin’ Hole to record my thoughts for this blog and to have a few dirty martinis and the Sun Valley Lodge’s world famous chili cheese fries.
To my horror, the greatest bartender in the world – Bin Tran – is not here this week! He has a daughter that is giving birth to his twelfth grandchild (or some such shit) and he is at the hospital. His brother – Vin Tran – is taking his place for the week.
His brother sucks at making dirty martinis. He even had trouble with Brian Roberts’ club soda!
Day 1 is always slow and always makes me wonder why the hell I came up here – though the goodie bag is nice.
Inside this year’s bag is:
An iWatch (though we were told not to show anyone outside of the conference or even acknowledge that it exists. Off the record, it’s really amazing and everyone will buy one);
The key fob to a new Tesla (courtesy of Elon Musk). Only 10 will unlock the doors of new Teslas at the end of the Conference. To my chagrin, EVERYONE does not get a new car!
A small, specially made, hand-crafted balloon dog sculpture by Jeff Koons;
A box of See’s Candies;
And, what I thought was really unique, a bar of gold.
OK – this place is starting to fill up.
Michael Eisner and former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair just walked in (not together – thank God) so I’m going to cut it off here and get busy drinking. I have to warn Tony Blair to not order anything from Vin Tran more difficult than a Jack & Coke.
Check back here tomorrow for an update on the always exciting Day 2.
Frankly, I am stunned at today’s announcement that Jeff Zucker has been fired by Steve Burke at Comcast. Little Stevie Burke (who was a Manka Bros. intern years ago in our Publishing Group) has some balls on him. He’s not even Jeff Zucker’s boss yet and he pulled the trigger on the firing.
My great old friend Brian Roberts doesn’t know what a treasure he has lost today. It’s a crazy world when someone like Jeff Zucker doesn’t have a media empire to run. I would call Brian on Jeff’s behalf to urge him to overrule Steve Burke, but I’m just too busy.
Manka Bros. has so underperformed this year, nearly every job is up for grabs (with the exception of Lloyd Grohl). Just give me a 24 hour heads up and I’ll fire whomever you wish to replace.
Though based on your track record, personally, I would prefer you stayed away from our television group – but, really, beggars can’t be choosers, right?
The party would continue and never stop if you joined our organization. The whole thing just breaks my heart and I only wish to God Manka Bros. would have acquired NBC Universal when we had the chance just so that you would still have a job.
I know everyone thinks you’re an asshole (welcome to the club!) but your accomplishments at NBC cannot be ignored – from the hiring of Ben Silverman to the way you handled the Jay Leno/Conan situation – NBC is in great shape and will only get stronger after you leave. You can hold your head up!
So, think about it. Take a couple of years, climb a mountain, backpack around Europe. Hopefully, at least, GE will cash out your vacation time. If not, and you need a low interest loan until you get back on your feet, just let me know.
While I wasn’t planning on contacting anyone except the bartender during my final vacation of the summer, this morning I was forwarded the 2010 Vanity Fair 100 List. Most people consider this list to be an annual ranking of the world’s most powerful media moguls – I consider this list to be shit.
WHY THE FUCK AM I NOT ON THIS LIST?!
We live in a media world dominated by Manka Bros. From the multiplex to the television to the newstand to the internet to every freakin’ handheld device, the people of the world simply cannot avoid Manka Bros. and yet we have been ignored… again.
Frankly, I am shocked that the writers of this story and the publisher of this magazine had the balls to make this grave error in judgment. I think I know why it happened, I just can’t believe that the people who put this bullshit list together would sacrifice their professional integrity over a personal vendetta.
It is simply unconscionable that Lady Gaga, Jeffrey Katzenberg, Ryan Kavanaugh (!!!!), Bob Iger and Barry Diller are on this list – yet I have been left off. Don’t get me wrong, I could care less about this stupid little list. You can’t rank moguls!
Perhaps a little backstory is necessary on how we got to where we are today.
I have known Graydon Carter (Editor-in-Chief of Vanity Fair) for nearly 40 years. We were in a tap and jazz dance class in Hollywood in the late 1960s before I rebelled against my father (the great asshole studio mogul Harry Manka) and turned to rock and roll where I founded the awesome power rock trio known as King Khan.
Due to my severe drug intake during those years, I don’t remember much… but I do remember Graydon kept hounding me to pitch my dad some idiotic movie idea which combined tap dancing and space exploration. I refused and we didn’t talk for many years.
In the mid-1980s (after I had taken over as Chairman & CEO of Manka Bros.), I had a dream about tap dancing astronauts and immediately called Graydon and asked if his idea was still available. It wasn’t.
Turns out, he had recently sold “Black Hole Time Step” (or whatever the hell it was) to Golan-Globus for $3 million (all cash in a suitcase). That movie was later completely rewritten and became Death Wish 4: The Crackdown… but I digress.
To make a long story short, after the recession hit in 2008 and everyone eventually declared print media dead, I made a hostile bid for Conde Nast (parent company of Vanity Fair) from its parent company – Advance Publications – for $8 million. Even though the publishing industry was extremely challenged, I figured for the right price it would be a good fit nestled within the Manka Bros. Publishing Group.
Advance Publications Chairman & CEO S.I. Newhouse told me to ‘GO F MYSELF’.
I decided to take the high road from that remark and raised my bid to $8,000,100 and told S.I. to use that extra $100 to pay for the movers to clear out his office. I never heard back and here we are today.
Obviously, my old friend Graydon is afraid for his job and knew putting me on the Vanity Fair 100list would not be looked on favorably by his ultimate corporate boss – Mr. Newhouse.
But things tend to even out over time. I have instructed our in-house media watchdog Jill Kennedy – Editor-in-Chief of OnMedea – to start putting together our own little list.
I’m thinking of calling it: THE MANKA 100 – Top 100 Failures In Media.
Now I know what it would be like to live in the Iraqi Green Zone. It would suck.
I am now safely on the deck of my Montauk house after a successful air lifting out of Rhinebeck yesterday afternoon.
Before I was allowed on the chopper, a few of us were given one final harsh debriefing by the General in charge of wedding security about never repeating what we witnessed this past weekend.
Ted Danson was sitting next to me and said it reminded him of the St. Crispin’s Day speech from Shakespeare’s Henry V. I asked him ‘What the fuck does Becker know about Shakespeare?’ Ted told me he was Ted Danson and not ‘Becker’. ‘Becker’ was just a role he played. I then called him ‘Becker’ again just to end the conversation. I don’t even know why he was invited to the wedding.
[As a side note, I’m very surprised not to see more studio moguls at the wedding. Other than Ted Turner,Steven Spielberg and me, it was a pretty lame turnout. I don’t know why I was expecting it to be more like Herb Allen’s Sun Valley Conference. Oh well, I suppose I’m honored just to have made the cut.]
I had my assistant, Vicky, send me a copy of the St. Crispin’s Day speech and it really was a rewritten version of that speech. ‘Becker’s’ not such an idiot after all. It went something like this:
‘We few, we happy few…
We band of brothers (and sisters) who were
Witness to Chelsea and Marc’s great day
Must never (NEVER) repeat that which so many in the media
Would give their lives to know the truth… etc. etc.’)’
Because of the stupidity of that speech and the over the top security measures, I am forced to break from my band of elite brothers and sisters and will reveal a few details about the (for the most part) very pleasant wedding I attended this weekend.
First of all, somebody could have told me Bowzer is no longer in Sha Na Na! As I mentioned last week, once I heard Sha Na Na was the wedding band, I was very excited. I’m a huge Bowzer fan. Dude does not get the credit he deserves as a pioneer of rock and roll.
In his place was something called the “Bowzer Experience” – it was three different guys dressed as Bowzer in different stages of his life (Kid, Young Adult and Old Bowzer).
Former President Bill Clinton was also very upset that he was having to pay for a ‘sub-par Sha Na Na’. He leaned over to me at one point and said: “I think there’s only one guy from the original Sha Na Na. This is bullshit. These guys look like they just came from a State Fair!”
Bill Clinton’s heartfelt toast to Chelsea and Marc. While it was a beautiful, well-spoken toast, I was surprise that Korbel was the ‘champagne’ of choice. Supposedly, it has been Chelsea’s favorite since college.
I also felt having White Castle hamburgers as an appetizer was a little too low rent – more Arkansas than Hudson Valley (though that was the only appetizer they ran out of).
The Whoopee Cushions placed in the chairs at the wedding party’s table was also a bizarre choice (though they did get all the intended laughs and really loosened up the room). It just seemed inappropriate for such a refined event. But maybe that’s why most people in this country still love the Clintons. No one laughed louder than Bill when they all sat down.
Most of the drunkenness was kept to a minimum. I think the guests were well aware that any falls into the wedding cake or slips on the dance floor or throwing up on the Queen of Norway was going to haunt them forever. So it was, on a whole, a very boring night.
There was, however, one very cool thing which happened toward the end of the evening. The illusionist David Blaine was hired to go from table to table to do close-up magic, levitate the guests, etc. (he was certainly making a lot of Bourbon disappear).
As one final trick, he asked everyone to take off their right shoe. “Now look on the bottom.”
Taped to the bottom of everyone’s right shoe was a $100 gift card from Best Buy with a note: “Thanks so much for making our dream day a reality. XXOO Chelsea and Marc.”
As corny as it was, you can now get a Blu-ray player for around $100. So I know what I’m getting with my gift card.
I don’t know where it is and I don’t know the address.
I was told I would be blindfolded once I touched down at Teterboro. I am then to be driven by Towncar to the site of the wedding. They say the blindfold can not be removed until I am safely inside the wedding house.
I’m really getting sick of going to these Presidential daughter weddings. Two years ago it was JennaBush, now it’s Chelsea. It just doesn’t stop. I have better things to do with my time.
Don’t get me wrong, Chelsea is a lovely girl and a very very warm person. I met her a few years ago when she interviewed for a summer intern position in the Manka Bros. Television Group. I don’t really remember why we turned her down. Some people just aren’t cut out for TV.
Anyway, because Lee Ann Womack has decided not to return my calls lately, I will be going stag to the wedding.
This will give me a chance to spend some quality time with my old friend (and drinking buddy) Ted Turner. He likes to drink Whiskey Sours and talk about Jane Fonda and I love to drink White Russians and hear about Jane Fonda. She was an early crush of mine ever since I saw Barbarella.
If anyone needs to reach me, they can’t. I’ll be inside a no cell phone, no internet, Level 8 security zone (whatever that means). If you want to get me a note, you’ll have to get through 4,000 Marines.
It’s literally more security than Herb Allen had at his Sun Valley Retreat – and we were a much more important that this crowd.
On the positive side, I’m excited to see Sha Na Na. I hear that’s the wedding band. That Bowzer really cracks me up.
Good afternoon.
My father never apologized but did pay him $10 to design a new logo (see right).
Khan Manka, Jr. – Chairman & CEO – Manka Bros. Studios – The World’s Largest Media Company
