Here’s the reason everyone who needs to entertain a few hundred people wants to do that entertaining in the Hall of Mirrors at the Netherland: the mirrors lie. It doesn’t matter how broken, broke, bald, or bloated one has become over the years, when one steps into the Galerie des Glaces one looks like a million bucks. Is it the golden tint? The friendly beveled edges? The mercifully dimmed light? Who knows. But it always worked. It certainly worked for our evening with supermegabestselling thriller author David Baldacci on Saturday. Everybody looked like a minor and friendly deity. Baldacci was v. entertaining, by the way, telling the ultimate in “take that, you idiotic supervisor” anecdotes.
Alas, due to the complexities of scheduling, next year’s speaker, about which we are allowed to say only that there is nothing like a dame, will meet the fans in the disco-era Hyatt Regency. -Nemo Wolfe