But enough about me. Let's move on to something else. Like, for instance: me. Have I had a chance to tell you about the big Donna Summer adventure I had a couple of weeks back? She was here for one night at Casino Rama, but there was certainly no gamble involved in buying tickets to see the ultimate dance diva. She was disco ball personified, even though her dress code these days is more working-girl Armani than party-girl go-go-go.
So anyhow, we travelled to Casino Rama, my special associate and I, via a Town Car. Because it's located in Orillia, about two hours from Toronto, it seemed like quite the holy pilgrimage. Our destination: the land of Steve Rubbell meets Old MacDonald (the one who had a farm).
The concert was a short one --about an hour. Less a concert than a top-hits run down. But worth every penny (were I, of course, ever to actually buy tickets to these things). Later, we left the theatre and snaked our way through the slots and blackjack tables to an in-house Chinese restaurant called The Willow. Dim sum and Donna Summer. Yum.
Over spring rolls, my associate wondered out loud why it was that the 5,000 or so people at the concert went absolutely bonkiest when Summer sang
She Works Hard for the Money rather than obvious favourites like Last Dance or
"Did you see that crowd?" I spoke up. "They could probably relate."
Meanwhile, Summer, who works sorta hard for her money, stayed for the night at Casino Rama in their "presidential suite," and slept on a bed that's also seen the likes of Diana Ross, Olivia Newton-John and Ringo Starr.
*Note: this is part of a larger column. Only the Donna parts have been reprinted here.