UPDATE: We see the children have been very restless arguing and hitting each other over whether spelling names and words correctly is important or not. Hmm. Come now children, can Your Mama not even leave you for a single day before everything turns to shit?
Anyhoo, the Open was magnificent. Did all you tennis queens catch the legendary old bird Liza Minnelli strutting and singing her heart out? Before the television cameras went on and before she sang God Bless America, she glided out on the red carpeted court in her little black pant suit waving her little hands and grinning that big dumb grin of hers and belted out a roaring rendition of New York, New York. Bel-ted. Gorgeousness, children.
The Open is always celebrities galore, and yesterday was no different. We saw the lovely and fiercely talented Maria Sharapova, who sat in Mister Novak Djokovic's box with Bobby DeNiro and his paramour Grace Hightower. The VIP section was chock full of rich and famous like Ralph Lauren, Robin Williams, who strangely changed from a blue to a yellow shirt mid match, Dustin Hoffman looking very tan, and a rail thin Anna Wintour in an outrageous pair of "woman with a past" sunglasses who gleefully cheered the Swiss master Roger Federer to a three set win.
Christie Brinkley, a beautiful fixture at The Open, did not sit court side this year, as she did last year when she took flash photos at inappropriate times and her children made a nuisance of themselves. Perhaps the US Open officials knew better and seated her in a box this year.
Of course, the newly and disturbingly platinum blond Donald Trump reigned in his box, which also hosted the smoldering Melania Knauss Trump (with Baby Trump in tow), a wizened looking Tommy Hilfiger, the stunning Ivanka in a flirty white dress, as well as the various sycophants in khaki who scrambled and practically tripped over each other for the opportunity to sit on the ground next to Mister Trump and talk tennis.
Tucked into the Northeast corner and just five rows up from the the court was a scruffy Jake Gyllenhaal who sat with a very good looking and scruffy male friend who looked shockingly like Mister Gyllenhaal, same hair, same scruff, same shirt only in light blue instead of J.G.s' dark blue. The good looking twosome headed for the twisty bowels of the stadium as soon as the match was over so Your Mama could not get a better assessment of the situation.
All in all it was a fabulous afternoon...except for all the bickering children we returned to at home. Now, on to more celebrity real estate.
Sunday is the day of rest and while Your Mama rarely rests we are taking the day off. We are headed out to Flushing, Queens with the Dr. Coooter, Mama Cooter and Sister Cooter to watch a showdown on the tennis court.
We'll be back tomorrow. We expect that in the meantime the children will not kill each other with their verbal assaults.