By Albert Samaha
By Darwin BondGraham
By Keegan Hamilton
By Anna Merlan
By Anna Merlan
By Tessa Stuart
By Tessa Stuart
By Albert Samaha
MEMO TO FILE:
FROM RUDY, FEBRUARY 14, 2001
Valentine's Day, February 14, 2001
That new sweetheart of mine, Tempestuous Tina Brown, dropped in at City Hall for my management report press conference the other day. It was enough to jump-start my heart's response time. I can't believe she gave me $3 million to tell the same stories about myself I couldn't get Donna to listen to for nothing.
Tina's partner, Miramax's Harvey Weinsteinoh boy, does he make me Merry to the Maxthinks the book can become a very, very magical, Oscar-nominated movie. He wants to call it Vanilla. Maybe I can put Harvey and Tina on the decency panel I'm going to set up. Remember The Priestthat Harvey hit denounced for depicting a whole diocese of clergy as lowlifes? Or Dogma? Or even Chocolat? The only people the Catholic League has condemned more often than the Brooklyn Museum is the gang at Smear-the-Max! I just love the blissful ironies of life in the limelight. Tina told the press I promised an autobiography of complete candor. Can you believe that? To give her a taste of what to really expect, I stuck the management report in her fascinated face: 59 pristine community districts out of 59! Suck on that one. Then I told her my very, very favorite summer 1999 jokesorry Donna, I have to go to a fundraiser in the Hamptons. What does Sweet Tina expect me to writeoops, I forgot, I DID have an affair with little Crissy Lategano? The Suburban was a Sex Machine? Plato's Retreat was reinvented in the City Hall basement? It wasn't just stookies that got sucked behind the dark curtains of the Romeo y Julieta Room at Elliot Cuker's cigar bar?
Me, Mr. Open? Did anyone notice that my own old office, the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District, was filing complaints in court saying I was refusing to turn over mandated police reports to federal investigators at the same time that I was promising a very, very, tell-all tale to Tina? Or that practically the same day the book was announced I held a press conference with the Mets and we all laughed at reporters who wanted to know how much Keyspan was paying the Wilpons for naming rights on the new, totally city-financed, minor-league stadium in Brooklyn? When it comes to information, book buyers are the same as everyone elsethey get nada, nada! They don't like it, to-o-o-o BAD!
What a great party Tina threw for me and Judi at her Sutton Place palace yesterday. Isn't it great to go from public shindigs with your mistress to re-creating the Legion of Decency? I heard all those stories about Tina's lavish affairs. Like when she didn't think the waiters and waitresses were sufficiently star-and-starlet-looking, paid them, sent them home, and brought in a second, buffed-up crew. In the old days, that's the way I ran some city agencies. It was great they had their friend Mike Bloomberg there to remind me he's part of the package. When I endorse him, the theme will be he's got enough billions in the bank to cover the budget gaps I'm leaving for my successor. It's a very, very beautiful thing.
Judi loved just being with Tina. Wasn't it Judi's ex-husband, Bruce, who put it so well in the divorce papers? Her "main goal in life," he said, "was being involved with whatever was 'the in thing' at the moment." What could be more "in" than me and Tina? I told the party what my day was likejust a little memoir sample. Can't wait to do the chapter about the night I invented Compstat, or the time I tried to install a police computer in the Suburban so I could issue moving violations myself, or how I strip-searched the last squeegee and saved the city from concealed Windex.
Has anybody noticed that ever since the book deal got hot I'm sticking my schnozz into every national news story I can? The police response time has shot through the ceiling, and I'm spending all my time chasing a fugitive who's been on the loose for 18 years. Maybe Marc Rich can make me rich. From Katie Couric to Chris Mathews; it's the only thing they've asked me about since Hillary. While I blab on about how much Denise Rich offered to raise for me, no one's reported that her longtime boyfriend, Niels Lauersen, gave my campaign committee $8600, maxing out in the 1997 campaign.
When W's on the way out, I'm going for pardons for Pops, Cousin Looie, my very, very best prostate adviser, Mikie Milken, my very, very biggest fundraiser, Billie Koeppel, my very, very closest union backer Charlie Hughes, and maybe even Denise's doc friend Lauersen, who just took his own fall. My other criminal friendsSteinbrenner and Fugazyalready got theirs. (Where did I put my copy of Patrick Dorismond's arrest record? Isn't this game of rhetorical jujitsu just so much fun?)
I don't know how many days I can stretch the Clinton Harlem story out. Tina told me "make buzz" and you gotta do what you gotta do, at least until I ink the final book contract. I'll probably have to cut a big deal with Charlie Rangel by the end of the week. What price can you put on a very, very panoramic view for midlevel bureaucrats? We all know how Wild Bill's Harlem move happened. The good Reverend Jackson told him that's where the babes are. Promised to bring his Black Book up to Harlem if Bill went there. And Jesse wasn't talking about the Bible. Anybody notice this whole shtick happened on Valentine's Day?