Da-do-diddy-run-run: P. Diddy wakes up early ( rrringggg ) to train for the New York Marathon , jogging alongside his personal umbrella-holder and “posse.” We won’t stand for exercise, but sitting is up for negotiation , which means: golf ! Any sport that supplies a little car to shuttle you from place to place is O.K. in our book. So grab your Ping putters , fellas , there’s a new musical about this lovely activity (hey, have you ever noticed pro golfers have the hottest wives?) called … Golf . “I just thought to myself: ‘What’s a topic that could be done by four people and a piano, make me some loot and be some fun?'” said producer Eric Krebs . “It’s a musical round in 18 songs.” The show includes some blue jokes for the duffers. Meanwhile, you won’t find any golf pants (unless worn “ironically”) downtown at the Bowery Poetry Club , where the goodly folks of Art Start are depending on the kindness of strangers (that’s you!) at an “I Am” benefit. Expect spoken-word performances by actor Oliver Platt , writers Susanna Moore (In the Cut) and Siri Hustvedt ( What I Loved ), poet Bob Holman and a spoken-word artist named (must we?) Will Power. If that sounds about as much fun as putting on a wet swimsuit , there’s always stand-up! If you’re always right (or left), yuk it up at Republican Riot , a political ha-ha performed by Fox News.com columnist Julia Gorin and fellow conservative Robert George , a New York Post columnist. “Oooo, everyone wants a piece of Robert!” Ms. Gorin told us while she was walking her pit bull on the Upper East Side. “He’s so charming and he’s black, so Republicans like that, they can say, ‘Hey, I have a black friend!’ All the white people buzz around Robert at the parties. Then I met him and became one of these white sycophants, too.” Are hecklers trouble? “I got heckled once at a comedy club near Columbia,” she said. “I was making Pakistani jokes and a girl with sort of a dark complexion yelled something and stormed out. It was all I could do not to call, ‘Just don’t blow anything up on your way out!’ … Stand-up comedy takes place on a no-holds-barred, politically incorrect stage and every group gets targeted. If you live in America, you have to get used to equal-opportunity jokes on stage.” Tonight, brace yourself for jokes like: “You know RU-486, the abortion pill that feminists are hoping will get approved in the U.S.? I’m just waiting for the TV commercial of a young woman looking a little peaked and sick saying, ‘You know, I had a baby all day. But then I took one of these and it’s all gone!'”
[ Golf , John Houseman Theater Center, 450 West 42nd Street, 8 p.m., 212-239-6200; Republican Riot , Don’t Tell Mama Cabaret, 343 West 46th Street, 9 p.m., 212-757-0788; I Am , Bowery Poetry Club, 308 Bowery Street, 7 p.m., 212-988-7807.]
We spread our blanket in Bryant Park a few months back for a screening of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof . We still don’t know how it ends because it started raining , and when our hair comes in contact with water, as a courtesy to others, we flee. Tonight we’re crashing the latest Broadway revival of the Tennessee Williams classic. The exquisite Ashley Judd stars as Maggie the Cat, a sexually frustrated wife whose husband, Brick (Jason Patric) , doesn’t like, uh, “kitty,” if you know what we mean. Meanwhile, the selfless gals of Self -professional party planners who are also rumored to put out a magazine-are at it again. This time the mag summons tiny fembot Sarah Michelle Gellar to host their “In Living Pink Party” to raise money for the Young Survival Coalition, a worthy breast-cancer charity. Then break out your “fun and fabulous attire” (something with zigzags from Missoni , maybe?) for a little basheroo celebrating A Body to Die For , the latest whodunit from Cosmo editor Kate White -not to be confused with an anorexia movie from Lifetime Television for Women Who Don’t Work. Bonus dirty excerpt ! “I let my tongue slip into his mouth, and as I did, his right hand slipped through my open jeans jacket and grabbed my breast ….” And then he ran for Governor- bada bing! Meanwhile, over at squeaky-clean Lenox Hill Hospital, there’s a lecture, “Life in Motion: Juggling Work, Family and You.” We say: We can’t even juggle three balls, never mind three abstract concepts.
[ A Body to Die For book party, Bongo Bay, 415 Main Street, Port Washington, 7:30 p.m., 516-367-1004; “Life in Motion” lecture, Lenox Hill Hospital, Einhorn Auditorium, 131 East 76th Street, 6:30 p.m., 212-434-3152.]
Now that autumn is here, an unfortunate number of New York women have responded by slipping their frosty feet into those sheepskin Ugg boots. To this we say: Talk about truth in advertising . Ladies, the name really does say it all. Somewhere, a roomful of marketing execs are snickering …. If you’re still jonesin’ for duds from bygone days, there’s the Manhattan Vintage Clothing Show , a.k.a. Fashion Week for the Downtown Gal. On display: a Bette Midler Pucci number (don’t get your hopes up, our big-cheese editor has already drawn up his “battle plan”); a Faye Dunaway mermaid flapper dress; and Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly sunglasses , along with a pair from the very funny father-to-be David Letterman and the ostensibly funny Whoopi Goldberg . Or if you’re one of those Michael Jackson fans (what’s left of them, anyway) and you’re obsessed with the King of Pop (what’s left of him, anyway), “the glove” will also be there for your viewing pleasure. Speaking of which, has anyone seen O.J. lately? Anyone know if he’s had any luck finding “the real killer?”
[Manhattan Vintage Clothing Show, Metropolitan Pavilion, 125 West 18th Street, 1 to 7 p.m., http://www.manhattanvintage.com, 518-434-4312.]
Hope floats? Manhattan teens put down their Ritalin and stop playing Grand Theft Auto long enough to audition for the Bob Hope Tribute float, to be featured in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. A hundred talented kiddos will be selected to perform a song-and-dance number in honor of Old Ski Nose. Meanwhile, cats- those lovable furry animals that, when you get right down to it, couldn’t give a damn about us -preen their way into Madison Square Garden today. “It’s the Olympics of feline competition!” said Elinor Silverman, the event’s organizer. “There are going to be 40 different breeds, and they’ll pick the ‘best of breed’ for each one. Each cat will start at 100 and for each flaw- a kink in the tail or an eye that’s not quite perfect-points are deducted. It’s like Miss America- personality and charm has a lot to do with it. These aren’t your neighbors’ cats! … At noon, there’ll be a contest for rescued felines to be judged by Joe Franklin . Remember him? He was in that Woody Allen movie Broadway Danny Rose . I actually went to high school with Woody Allen -but back then, he was just another Jewish kid with zits! That wasn’t even his name! I think it was Noel Konisburg or something?” (Actually, it’s Allan Konigsberg .) “Well, anyway, it certainly wasn’t Woody Allen. But that Joe Franklin- he’s something special.” Later, give yourself a good once-over with the lint roller before heading to see 20th-century antiques at the Armory.
[ When Hope Is There audition, Nola Rehearsal Studios, 250 West 54th Street, 11th floor, 10 a.m., ages 14 to 18, http://www.campbroadway.com, 212-575-2929; Cats! Show New York, Madison Square Garden, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., http://www.cfainc.org, 877-232-7469; The Modern Show , the Armory, 26th Street and Lexington Avenue, 11 a.m. to 7 p.m., http://www.stellashows.com, 212-255-0020.]
If you’re like us, you spent the 90’s watching Third Rock from the Sun through that decade’s requisite colored contacts. Now the sitcom’s wacky star, John Lithgow, has gone and written a children’s book, I’m a Manatee , about the seagoing endangered species. The book opens not with the expected ( “Hi, there. I’m a manatee and-hey, is that a propeller I hear?” ) but with: “Encumbered by my lumbering gigan-atee, / I’m thought to be an ocean-going brute! / The least appealing creature on the planet-ee, / But to a manatee, I’m cute!” The enclosed CD features a singing Lithgow. Today he signs in the wee section of Barnes and Noble. Want more kids ? Behold a screening of last year’s fine documentary Spellbound . It’s the horrifying, hilarious tale of kids vying for spelling mastery, who’ll all be mighty pissed when they grow up to find there’s something called “spell check.”
[Barnes and Noble Union Square, children’s department, 33 East 17th Street, 3 p.m., 212-253-0810; Spellbound , Makor, 33 West 67th Street, 7:30 and 9:30 p.m., 212-601-1000.]
It’s Columbus Day, everyone’s favorite vaguely uncomfortable holiday: It’s nice and autumny out, you’re sipping hot apple cider and wearing the new “fall shoe”-but the dark, crushing despair of winter is lurking (if you’re Swedish) …. So put on a nubbly jacket and park yourself on Fifth Avenue for the Columbus Day Parade. Celebrate the seaman who, like Gilligan, the Professor and MaryAnn after him, saw his “three-hour tour” go awry when he took a shortcut to India and-oops!- ended up not eating papadam and curry, but instead running aground in America. Oh, and there was some pillaging and whatnot along the way, but you know what they say: Can’t make a Western omelette without breaking some indigenous cultures.
[Fifth Avenue between 44th and 79th streets.]
It seems Britney Spears has officially closed on a one-bedroom in Skankville . Just check out the nearly nekkid photos of the stubby starlet on the covers of several mags this month. On the contrary, sexy song-stress and country-cross over siren Shania Twain is looking tasteful and-what’s the word?- better on the front of this month’s Glamour . Hear Twain’s twang in the Garden tonight.
[Madison Square Garden, 8 p.m.,
Ethan Hawke stops haunting the already-haunted Chelsea Hotel (Nancy and Sid, anyone?) and joins actor Billy (“Giddyup!”) Crudup at the Young Patron Season Kickoff Party at Lincoln Center. Patrons can purchase 100 gift-wrapped “surprise boxes” (theater and sports tickets, restaurant gift certificates, loaded pistols, etc.). Be nice to Mr. Hawke-the Kill Bill publicity invasion, including all the photos of a buffed va-va-va-v-Uma, cannot be making him happy …. By the way, how come whenever we see Quentin Tarantino on TV, we just wanna smack him? He’s a great director, yes -but don’t ya just wanna smack him?
[Lincoln Center Theater’s Young Patron Season Kick-Off Party, Vivian Beaumont Theater lobby, 150 West 65th Street, 7:30 p.m., 212-501-3251.]