Hello, goodbye

There are sum people who watch & make things happen, others just sit on their asses & wonder what the hell just happened. Personally, I think there is another very relative type of person who falls into this spot, those who talk $#$% and have nothing happening. I ask you, where do you fall?

This past week provided mo drama for too many folks that I know, myself included. Early in the week, I realized I had over committed myself, yet again, to too many events and was torn between attending a couple of others or Atlanta Magazine's Taste of Atlanta.

Having gone tasting before, I knew what the hell that would be like, but for many, they had nooooo idea. On the day following, I received more than a few e-mails from folks expressing their displeasure about the event held at the "tragic" Cobb Galleria Center. Many were upset because they paid $50, which went to a charity, for the opportunity to taste and be exposed to Atl Mag's favorite restaurants, between 7:30 & 10:30 p.m. The time is relative here because the biggest complaints came from guests who discovered that by 8:45 p.m., 80 percent of the participants were out of food and were packing up. Sounds like trouble to me. As an attendee told me, "I was so offended for a few reasons. Mainly, because it appeared that there was never enough food allotted for the entire event and secondly, it seemed pretty obvious that the restaurants were there with no real desire to build their clientele, but out of simple obligation, either as an advertiser or a winner, to one of the city's watered down, tragically vanilla rags. Maybe next time, before I go to an event I'll check into the motives and reputation."

I'm glad I didn't go tasting tots but was pleased that I went to what has become a tradition -- poker night, not poke her night, at Scott Chalk's crib. This night, it took on a different meaning because folks gathered to wish Chris Snyder well. For those not in the know, Chris is another extremely talented actor & writer who is heading onto greener pastures called L.A. He'll be working on different projects with another ATLien, party attendee and 40-ounce drinker, producer Fred Taylor. For those in the dark on Scott, he's that multi-talented supa-dupa Time Warner cat that is being honored Oct. 13 at the Ritz Carlton in Buckhead for his work with the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America. He will be receiving the Elvin Price Volunteer Leadership Award.

It's never too late 2 be what up might have become. Friday night brought a gathering together for Beatrice Spaeth, the artist formerly known as "B" who now lives in Paris, for libations at the Four Seasons. It was cool, and I'm not going to try and impress you with a list of high rollers, but I will say that Dorothea Boyett was big pimping with a big ol' bottle of water, as big ballers do with a bottle of Moet. The girl had me crying. Pat Molnar was in attendance and you'd better listen up and keep your eye on the kid. He's an Atlanta-based photographer who is quite talented, and I get the feeling that if he keeps it up, I'll be attending a going away party for him soon.

Following the 4 seasons thang, I dropped by Todd-AO/Edit-works President Britt de Bie & and her husband Daniel J. Castan's place for a nightcap to help celebrate Dan's b'day. I must say that this was by far the most international mix of folks I've seen in a while. Part of the fun was trying to figure out who was from where. With Brit's South African heritage and Dan's Cuban ancestry, I had not a clue.

With Saturday morning fatly approaching and me playing co-host to a swanky garage sale early the next morning, I needed to turn in. When you list a garage sale in the paper, do realize that the professional g-shoppers are going to show up 2 hours earlier than you listed if for. After spending all day watching strangers ramble thru my junk, I was looking forward to a cocktail, and boy what a cocktail it was. I'm here to admit that I, kebo, was bitch-slapped by Blondie's tits at the Clermont Lounge -- a first for even me. I felt violated and deprived. Deprived because I've lived here for almost 8 years now and up until this past Saturday night, I had never been to this spot. Hug a dread.