I went to the groundbreaking ceremony for MoMA’s new building. It was held in a large tent in the Sculpture Garden. The time came when all the VIPs were supposed to don ceremonial hardhats, and take their ceremonial shovels, and then take their first ceremonial photo-op scoops in the sandbox in front of the dais.
I was sitting on the far edge, and Mayor Giuliani’s security detail was standing next to me.
When a MoMA operative began putting the helmets on the VIPs’ heads, they tightened into a panic. “Oh, shit, not the hair,” they stage whispered. “NOT the hair.” Maybe they were praying, because no one could hear them but the Good Lord and myself, and I was actually praying for the helmet.
I was reminded of that extreme combover encounter as I watched this clip of Donald Trump nuzzling his mug into Giuliani’s drag queen cleavage. Trump’s part is somewhere on the back of his neck, just high enough that the rest of his hair looks like those stubby, shaving brush ponytails that were all too common in the early 1990s [insert mea culpa here].
I just point this out because at least Giuliani lost the combover before he went on his own ego- and business-prospect inflation tour by pretending to run for President.
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the making of, by greg allen