Posts Tagged ‘Hearne Christopher’

Well, it was the biggest blogging blowout of the year last night…Yes, I’m talking about Hearne Christopher Jr.’s annual “KC Confidential Christmas Wilding.”

I was lucky enough to be invited. In fact, Hearne, owner and operator of the wildly successful blog site kcconfidential.com, called me in the afternoon to make sure I was coming. Told him I wouldn’t miss it.

This year, as some of you undoubtedly know, Hearne had to move the party from Jardine’s to the Uptown, reason being that Jardine’s ran into a spot o’ trouble last year (including not paying the help) and closed. Boy, Hearne loved that place, and he threw some pretty, pretty wild parties there. Didn’t hurt that for a while he dated the owner, Crazy Beena. (I never met her myself, but Hearne told me a few stories.)

Just like Jardine’s, the thing with Beena didn’t end so well, and, all in all, it’s best that Beena went her way and Hearne lived to host another Christmas wilding somewhere else.

Hearne is close friends with the Uptown’s owner, Larry Sells, who got the place for a song (or even a phrase) 20 or more years ago when he was a commissioner on the Jackson County Land Trust. (Sells, a ne’er-do-well lawyer, got off the commission after he made off with the object of his eye, the venerable theater.)

So, it was fitting that Hearne would have his party at the Uptown — “Doors 5 p.m.” —  and he had the usual array of local celebs and brilliant writers.

Hearne and Bill Nigro

Hearne Christopher and Bill Nigro

Those on hand included Westport impresario Bill Nigro; lawyer Harris Wilder — he of the large smile and ebullient personality; Roger Naber, promoter of the Legendary Rhythm and Blues Cruises;  some KC Confidential writers, including Brandon Leftridge and Jack Poessiger; KSHB-TV weekend assignment editor Rick Hellman;  and the one and only advertising and public relations guru Tracy Thomas — the beloved “TT.”

But back to the party…The only thing that struck me as odd was that it was absolutely devoid of “hotties.” For those of you who don’t know what “hotties” are — in KC Confidential lexicon, anyway — they are attractive, sometimes-cheap-looking, curvaceous women. Hearne’s classification of hotties has run the gamut, from strippers to Kansas City Star publisher Mi-Ai Parrish.

(The day that McClatchy Co. announced the appointment of Parrish, in June 2011, Hearne gushed on his blog, “Blessed mother of god, they hired a hottie!”)

In fact, I can’t recall Hearne having written about “hotties” in recent months. Perhaps Hearne’s aura of fame and wealth is slipping, or maybe his new (and considerably younger) wife Kimberly Christopher gave the hotties the heave-ho. (Kimberly had not arrived at the party by the time I left, but she would definitely fall into the hottie category.)

When I pointed out the conspicuous void to Hearne, he responded with a shrug and a rare moment of silence. Didn’t even try to fabricate an excuse.

I guess marriage has slowed the old boy down.

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I tell you, the life of a blogger can get wild and crazy in short order.

That’s what I found out Tuesday, when I was whisked out of my ordinary, retirement-mode rhythm and thrust into the maw of show business. Before it was all over, I’d met several celebrities — including four members of the famous and infamous Glazer family of Stanford & Sons Comedy Club — and helped judge an amateur, stand-up comedy contest.

Here’s how it unfolded…

It was a beautiful fall evening — sun setting, shadows lengthening — and I was sitting on my deck, petting my dogs and smoking a cigar. Then came the call. It was Hearne Christopher, my friend and fellow online instigator from KC Confidential.

It was an urgent matter…as it always is with Hearne. Seems as though we had to go out on a reporting matter of vital importance. It being a secret mission and all, I can’t give you any details, but, who knows, you might be reading more about it on KC Confidential some day.

Hearne arrived a few minutes later in his undercover reporting car – a tricked-out, white Prius — and off we went, headed toward downtown. Hearne was drinking Red Bull and talking fast, mostly about former girlfriends and prospective girlfriends. He mentioned that we had to hurry along because he was going to judge a comedy contest “over in Kansas” after we finished our reporting mission.

Before we got to our destination, I called my wife Patty, who was still at work, and told her I might be needing a ride home from downtown. Hearne waved me off, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll drop you off.”  As it turned out, we finished our reporting in less than 10 minutes.

It occurred to me that I should stay put and have my wife pick me up, but Hearne had me in tow, and in moments we were back in the news cruiser. Off we went, westbound into Kansas on I-70. When we got to about 57th Street, I said, “Where are we going?”

“The Legends,” came the answer.

Realization No. 1: I’d been hijacked.

Hearne is always telling people to sit back and enjoy it when good things happen to them, so I thought I’d better just relax. All the way out to Parallel Parkway, Hearne chattered on about his love life, and I have to admit it was kind of interesting because I just don’t hear those kinds of tales from most of my friends, who, like me, have been enveloped in the bonds of holy matrimony for many years.

At the same time, listening to Hearne’s titillating stories, I was glad that I was safely ensconced in the bonds of matrimony because there’s no way I could ride the roller coaster Hearne is on.

After we got to The Legends and were getting out of the car, I asked Hearne, “How long are we going to be here?”

“Not long,” came the predictable answer, as he slammed the door.

Outside the club, a big crowd was hanging around and queuing up — mostly people in their 20s and 30s. Hearne plowed through the crowd and led the way to the back kitchen door, where, inside, Hearne introduced me to Jack Glazer, who was strawbossing the event behind the scenes.

Jack, moving as quickly has Hearne had been, took us out to the bar area, where I was introduced to former Chiefs running back Ted McKnight. Jack then handed me, Hearne and Ted sheets of papers with a long list of names on them.

Realization No. 2: I was going to be a comedy-contest judge.

On the list were 31 names. Every contestant would have two minutes.

Realization No. 3: So much for “not long.”

Then, Papa Glazer – Stan the Man, founder of the original Westport club, man about town and mayoral candidate — came along, and it turned out that he, too, was a judge. Jack gave us some cursory instructions and situated the four of us at a table flanking the stage.

I was on the left, and, Stan was sandwiched between Hearne and Ted. Hearne proceeded to tell Stan and Ted about his recent break-up, and Ted then began lamenting about his break-up with a long-time girlfriend. I thought we might be in for a vale of tears, but Stan brightened things up by noting, “My wife is 36 years younger than me.”

At some point, Hearne said that he’d been told by Craig Glazer that one of the comics — one of two women contestants — was interested in dating him. So, Hearne craned his neck to catch glimpses of the lady and solicited opinions from his fellow judges about her looks. I gave her two thumbs up, but Hearne said he’d probably pass.

After the room filled up with people — many of them friends and relatives of the contestants — Craig, wearing shades and blue jeans, took the mic. He introduced us — the judges — starting with his father. Hearne, being a card, stood up with Stan to acknowledge the applause. Stan returned the favor a couple of minutes later, standing up and waving when Craig introduced Hearne.

Craig introduced me as a former political reporter and editor at The Star and then spontaneously told the crowd, “He didn’t vote for Obama.” I stood and waved and attempted to shout a correction, but my words were mostly lost in the cacophony.

Then began the parade of comics. The first was the lady who allegedly was interested in going out with Hearne. My, she was profane! This being a clean-cut blog, I won’t repeat any of what she said. But she was funny, and I gave her a “7” on a 1-10 scale.

Displaying grit and wit, the comics plunged ahead, one after another. They went by names like “Grasshopper,” and “Jazzy,” and “Ruthless Riley T.” Most of them had day jobs, of course, including one guy who worked as a prison guard in Leavenworth. Many of them were very funny.

For me, the most memorable one-liner of the night was this: “Do you think it’s appropriate to take a kid with ADHD and put him in a concentration camp?”

After it was over, we huddled in a nearby office and determined the top three finishers. They were — in order of first, second and third — Bruce Crosby, Dell Iliff and Chris Holmberg. The woman whom I rated a “7” was in consideration until the end but didn’t make the cut.

On the way home, on Hearne’s car phone, we called Craig, who was taking his father home. Craig asked if we’d had a good time — I assured him that I had — and touched on some of the evening’s highlights. When the subject of the lady comic came up, Hearne told Craig he wasn’t interested. But then Stan said something that changed the complexion of things.

“She was asking about the guy with the spiked hair,” Stan said, referring to Hearne.

“She was?” Hearne said eagerly. “Are you making that up?”

“No,” Stan replied.

And, like a youth who’s just been told that the best-looking girl in class thinks he’s cute — Hearne allowed as to how he just might follow up with that lady.

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