Livin' on a prayer...

So, part of my job involves going to fundraisers. Usually that means rich old guys standing around waiting to stampede the Governor when he shows up (late, naturally). I do get to go to fun places - I've been to the shore twice, I've seen houses the size of my high school, and I even saw the Mummers. But occasionally, it gets slightly more exciting than that.

Friday night was the Spencer fundraiser with Jon Bon Jovi. Jon Bon, along with Craig Spencer, owns the Philadelphia Soul, an indoor football team (which I have to object to on principle, but whatever...), and so they hosted a major event for the Gov. Now, the Spencer house is not to be believed - seriously, I've seen whole towns smaller than that estate. There was - I kid you not - a red carpet leading to the front door. At least 3 people arrived in limos (Bon Jovi was not one of them - he showed up in the biggest SUV I've ever seen), and everyone else drove absurdly expensive cars that I've only heard rumors about. Seriously, valet parking probably didn't even need my ticket stub in order to pick out my piddly little Malibu.

So, Jon was pretty nice... he winked at me and said hi when he came in. He spent most of the evening being attacked by people (they alternated between him and the Gov) and only looked like he was undergoing Chinese water torture about half the time - despite one kind of obnoxious woman who kept trying to get him to agree to an interview for Extra. He did NOT perform, much to our dismay, although we did get to hear a live performance from the guy who played the piano for the Billy Joel musical Movin' Out on Broadway. He was very good, but still kind of a let-down after we expected Jon to sing.

The most disturbing part of the evening was the location of the bar. It was in the pool. (The pool was spectacular, by the way, complete with those jumping fish fountains, where the water comes out their mouths, and a 6-foot Buddha statue.) Yes, the bar was IN THE POOL. In the shallow end, naturally, but it still meant the poor bartenders were wearing shorts and up to their knees in water. Talk about degrading. I almost wanted to apologize. I guess it gives a whole new meaning to the term "wet bar."

The reception was all outside, on a patio that seemed to go on forever, with several levels and winding pathways through bushes and gardens. Then we moved inside (to the piano room) for the musical entertainment and speeches. The Rendell staff all dared each other to break things, just to see what the Spencers would say ("Come on, I dare you to fake trip, and just grab that shelf with all the expensive china as you go down.") but we didn't actually do anything, because hey, we all like our jobs. So then dinner was a private affair for only the most extra-special guests ($25,000 per couple, as opposed to a paltry $5,000 per couple for the reception), and we had the awkward task of shooing out everyone who wasn't staying for dinner. Fun. No, you may not have another drink - why didn't they just cut off the alcohol?

Anyway, that was my brush with fame for last week. I've got two fundraisers this week - one at some guy's house, and the other at a law firm. I don't expect either to be as exciting as Bon Jovi.

P.S. If you're just itching to know more about Bon Jovi "living on a prayer" and being "wanted dead or alive" go here for song facts and meaning of lyrics. Actually, you can do that for anyone, not just Bon Jovi.