Rush Right Over to Rush

Last Friday night brought me back to Rush -- no, not the pompous right-winger who had Elton John sing at his fourth traditional wedding.

I'm talking about the multilevel club on Sixth Avenue and 16-17th Streets which I've always loved for its youthful energy, pronounced multi-culturalism, and eyeball-blurring smoke effects.

It turns out it's nowhere near as skank as before, but I liked it anyway.

Morgan McLean, the gentlemanly host I know from the legendary Roxy, ushered us through the ground level, where there were more Caribbean lesbians than at an Indigo Girls concert in Jamaica, and the second floor, where a youngish assortment of mixed nuts danced to pop divas and answered DJ JRoc's trivia questions for free drink tickets (though one of the winners, sadly, wasn't of legal age to use them).

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Fun, fun, fun.

Was it a culturally edifying experience comparable to a night at the opera or a special exhibit at the Met Museum? No.

Will I be back?

Free trivia answer: You betcha!

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