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News Corp. Holiday Party

I got to go, thanks to one magnanimous friend who works for a Murdochian sheet and whose name shall remain undropped to protect his job.  Gawker's freelance crasher (no, wasn't me, although I'd done a couple of book reviews for … Read More

By / December 18, 2006

I got to go, thanks to one magnanimous friend who works for a Murdochian sheet and whose name shall remain undropped to protect his job.  Gawker's freelance crasher (no, wasn't me, although I'd done a couple of book reviews for the Post) more or less got it right, except the bridge and tunnel swipe was unnecessary and, given what follows it, also vaguely racist, don't you think? (All's fair in shitting on the vast right-wing conspiracy, I suppose).

The theme: Airport lounge, down to girls passing out peanuts and a line that materialized outside the Hilton at 6 p.m. but still took a good half-hour to negotiate. No one was asked to take off their shoes.

The crowd: Very bridge, very tunnel. Diversity the NYT can only dream about. Never seen so many badly dressed women in one place. Think prom night in Las Vegas. Most of the guys in nice suits, and clearly happy to be able to be getting their ladyfriends tanked on free Cosmos prior to moving on when the joint shut at 11.

The food: The "Europe" section of the party had the best chow — fish and chips, baked ziti, fabulous pastries, under a 16-piece orchestra playing lugubrious Mozart … there were ice pops in the "Latin America" section, but "Australia" ran out of shrimp way too early.

The entertainment: My free henna tattoo still looks pretty good, and we all loved those two sistahs belting out "Proud Mary" on the karaoke stage in the "Asia" room. Rupert Murdoch was glimpsed, and I was thrilled to shake hands with News Corp's newest millionaires — the two gents who sold their Brooklyn and Queens weeklies to the Man earlier this year. [Clifford Luster of TimesLedger and Steven Blank of Courier-Life. — ed.]

The conversation: The question on most lips was whether you, too, had got the festive goodie bag, delivered to your workplace prior to the party. And yes, everybody did get the same thing: a DVD of the "Devil Wears Prada," a lightbulb, and a book, in a plastic bag. Apparently, if you're hosting 8,000 to 10,000 you've got to cut corners somewhere. But this was forgiven. After all, it's Christmas!

I didn't get a goodie bag, and Asia's grub might have tasted better if they'd have replenished the egg rolls, instead of just upped the wattage on the heat lamps. But — and I say this without a shred of liberal hawk bias — Fox has got some of the comeliest female employees this side of the antipodes.

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