Thursday, March 06, 2003

Annals of Bad Taste
James Stewart's article on Kozlowski in the 2/17 New Yorker quotes a description of the infamous Sardinian birthday party from a Tyco email:
Guests arrive at the club starting at 7:15 p.m. The van pulls up to the main entrance. Two gladiators are standing next to the door, one opens the door, the other helps the guests. We have a lion or horse with a chariot for shock value. The guests proceed through the two rooms. We have gladiators standing guard every couple feet and they are lining the way. The guests come into the pool area, the band is playing, they are dressed in elegant chic. Big ice sculpture of David, lots of shellfish and caviar at his feet. A waiter is pouring Stoli vodka into his back so it comes out his penis into a crystal glass. Waiters are passing cocktails in chalices. They are dressed in linen togas with fig wreath on head. A full bar with fabulous linens. The pool has floating candles and flowers. We have rented fig trees with tiny lights everywhere to fill some space. 8:30 the waiters instruct that dinner is served. We all walk up to the loggia. The tables are all family style with the main table in front. The tables have incredible linens with chalices as wineglasses. The food is brought out course by course, family style, lots of wine, and it's starting to get dark. Everyone is nicely buzzed, LDK [L. Dennis Kozlowski] gets up and has a toast for K [Karen]. Everyone is jumping from table to table. E Cliff has continued to play light music through dinner. They kick it up a bit. We start the show of pictures on the screen, great background music in sync with the slides. At the end Elvis is on the screen wishing K a Happy Birthday and apologizing that he could not make it. It starts to fade and Elvis is on stage and starts singing happy birthday with the Swingdogs [a Nantucket band often hired for Tyco events]. A huge cake is brought out with the waiters in togas singing and holding the cake up for all to see. The tits explode. Elvis kicks it in full throttle. Waiters are passing wine, after dinner drinks, and there is dancing. 11:30 light show starts. HBK [Happy Birthday Karen] is displayed on mountain, fireworks coming from both ends of the golf course in sync with music. Swingdogs start up and the night is young.
Would it be less offensive if these assholes weren't funding such comically nouveau riche excesses with our pension plans?

[Actually, I guess we have to blame the Stoli on the shortcomings of the New Hampshire State Liquour Store. Elvis is another story.]


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