Absolute (Un)Certainty

by Editorial

Have a Ball (for 30 People)
The originally intended beneficiary of a recent Blonde Charity Mafia-hosted poker tournament and masquerade ball was a foundation for “troubled birds.” Still, feathers got ruffled at the last minute when they were passed over in favor of [insert underprivileged children here]. By all accounts, anything’s easier in a conservative town than being the racy reality show intent upon filming at charity galas, but finally forced to stage your own after every ball in town has turned you down. So I feel for you. But not that much.
On arrival at the “ball,” the contestants were presented with three everyday supermarket products, and asked to guess their retail prices. Wait … no, no, no! Wrong show. Alas, they were presented instead with a network TV release form, that, if signed – no pressure – entitled them to (a) not get kicked out immediately; and (b) sport a once-in-a-lifetime bracelet (as seen on The Hills) LiveStrong? Nah … LivePublicly. After a few hours of being fussed over, the best-dressed were instructed to don their masques, and anyone deemed worthy of a speaking line was ushered into a closet for seven heavenly minutes (a.k.a. getting mic-ed up). We can’t wait to see the party on the small screen.

Cut Down (When You Pony Up)

The worsening economy affects everyone. Yours truly has pared down to twice-a-month housekeeping. That means dishes once a week, max. No judgment, thank you. Regardless of our domestic realities, it’s time we all came clean about another dirty little secret we guard in times of hardship, namely, our Personal Charity Ceiling. For those of you who shorted G.E. and are reading this at Café Milano on a weekday afternoon, a Personal Charity Ceiling is the maximum amount of money that a generally philanthropic individual is willing to spend for a single charity event. Mine is about 75 bucks. You know what yours is, too. Given the current economic environment, Constance “Connie” von Dohner recently explained how she’s cutting back. “I used to pay $200 to shop at Ralph Lauren for polio. Then someone told me that polio doesn’t exist anymore. So now, my question is: what’s going to happen to all those expensive ponies?” Sorry, Connie. The ponies were sent to ‘the farm’, but don’t worry, they’ll be there with Bubbles, your childhood beagle. Come to think of it, he must be about 28 people-years-old by now!

Bubbles notwithstanding, 28 is a great age, and this columnist applauds all the newlyweds, starlets, and philanthropists who make our city so much fun. Life is good – of this, I am certain.

Readers wishing to get in touch with Edie Van Horn can email: columns@vps3.washingtonlife.com.

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