¡viva la graham!

Leave those skanky strip joints to the amateurs!  Members of The Raconteurs, including Jack White and his supermodel wife Karen Elson, were spotted last night in Nashville at the crowded Music City Burlesque show at The Belcourt Theatre. The famous pair arrived ten minutes late to the titillating tease-a-thon, strolling down the aisle to reserved seats in the second row.

“Jack White looked at me,” my bartender friend told me, her eyes widening, when I asked if she had noticed him walk past. In a city of jaded hipsters, White is one of the only celebrities that can elicit such unabashed awe. I should also mention that Elson is absolutely stunning in person. Well done, Jack.

The Raconteurs brand new album, Consolers of the Lonely, is out now.

hello all, i’m finally back from my lovely california holiday! it was a much needed break, and although there was little time for relaxing (almost every day of the trip was packed with sightseeing, eating, shopping, etc.), i’ve arrived home refreshed.

i do have a funny story to relay. my boyfriend and i were only in los angeles for two days, but we still hoped to spot a celebrity. i thought all we were going to get was a marilyn monroe impersonator, but in the end my boyfriend chatted up an honest-to-goodness tv personality.

granted, not everyone knows jackie warner, the star of bravo’s hit reality show work out. we ran into her at the abbey, a very chic bar just off santa monica blvd. my friend gabi escorted us, and after sipping one of their very tall, very strong mojitos, my boyfriend worked up the courage to approach her.

“my brother is a huge fan,” he said to her. she was welcoming and very gracious (and a little tipsy), and she agreed to sign an autograph for my boyfriend’s older brother, stacey.

when he showed us what she had written, he could hardly contain himself. she wrote, “stacey, your son is very handsome. love, jackie.” at first, we urged him to have her correct her familial mix-up, but then we decided the simple mistake made it even better.

i ran into kellie pickler last night at nashville nightspot virago. she was with her hockey player “friend” jordin tootoo (among others) but i managed to work up the courage to say hello. i totally kissed her ass, telling her i was a huge fan (a small lie) and that i thought her american idol performance last week was “beautiful” (an overstatement).

this is definitely not the best photo of me, but kellie is looking good. she was really sweet and was willing to chat for a minute and take a photo. for being so gosh-darn cute and unpretentious, i wish her the best of luck.

while perusing popjustice a few nights ago, i happened upon an article about the spice girls burying the hatchet and reforming for charity. now we’ve all been teased and tortured with this gossip before, so i’m not going to put money on it actually happening. but this time, after reading about them, the girls invaded my dreams…

it was sunset at starwood ampitheatre, where i saw the spice girls (minus geri) perform back in 1998. the venue was packed with cheering fans. the stage was empty and a pair of limousines began driving down the paved path separating the covered seating area and the general admission grass section.

suddenly, the sunroof of each limo opened and up came all five girls (though i can’t recall which girls were grouped together, i’d like to think geri and mel b were clasping hands). the crowd erupted, the girls smiled and waved. they really were back!! unfortunately, they never took the stage. the limos continued back and forth down the path, and very quickly the mood changed from “hurrah!” to “let’s get on with it!” and that was that.

interpret that as you will. i’m not sure what exactly the dream was predicting. i’m just sad they didn’t sing “say you’ll be there.”

after reading an article in entertainment weekly about the oscar race 50 years ago, i asked my grandmother if she could recall the excitement surrounding the major films from that year — namely giant, starring elizabeth taylor, james dean and rock hudson, the scandalous baby doll, featuring carroll baker, and that year’s best picture, around the world in 80 days.

“i remember it like it was yesterday,” she said wistfully.

“liz taylor looked beautiful in the pictures i saw,” i said.

“oh, she was,” my grandmother replied with a tone of reverence most would reserve for god or royalty.

later that afternoon, i took a closer look at a set of old photographs my sister had displayed in her guest bathroom — pictures of my grandmother as a young woman that i had never examined closely. in one, she was leaning against the wall, gazing into the distance, her long, dark hair flowing past her shoulders. she looked absolutely gorgeous… just like liz taylor.

my friend marissa (pictured, right) celebrated her 30th birthday this past weekend, and we somehow managed to bring in a few d-list celebs to help her celebrate. the party was in a posh suite at the loews vanderbilt hotel, and it all started when we decided to head down to the lobby bar and find her some eye candy.

moments after sitting down, dancing with the stars champion and 98 degrees alum drew lachey (you know, nick’s little brother) walked through the door. “marissa’s a huge fan,” we told him, and he agreed to have a photo taken with her. (he declined to come upstairs to the party, saying it would be “inappropriate.”)

after a quick chat, we headed toward the elevators to return to the soiree. marissa, who at this point was slightly tipsy, immediately noticed the guy also going up. “oh, harry hamlin,” she said, matter-of-factly. he just grunted - he obviously was not happy about sharing the elevator with us. but there he was, trapped, so marissa struck up a conversation with him, wishing him good luck as he bid us adieu.

it was a memorable moment for us all, but especially the birthday girl. check out a naughty photo from the late-night shindig after the jump.

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i was having a few drinks with a culturally diverse group of friends the other night - several of whom teach at inner city schools. it’s not an easy job, understandably, but even a flamboyant queen can keep his class in line if he approaches it correctly.

“i told them i’m from atlanta,” he said. “and down there we don’t roll like they roll.” interestingly enough, that was enough to subdue the troublemakers in the room.

at that point, someone brought up the new hilary swank flick, freedom writers, a shameless dangerous minds rehash about a determined caucasian lady inspiring a group of hard-luck students. the subject was greeted by a chorus of groans.

“why does a white woman always gotta be the hero?” someone asked. “if it was realistic, they’d show three or four come and go.” she already knew the answer to her question. even if the film was based on a true story, it doesn’t come close to reality.

that’s hollywood.

this year, as my family began decorating our christmas tree, i noticed something was missing. we were enjoying ourselves - drinking wine and laughing at homemade ornaments from years gone by. suddenly, i realized what it was.

“dad, put on the carpenters!” i exclaimed… and as the lush harmonies of “it came upon a midnight clear” filled the room, memories came flooding back. immediately, our already-festive mood became somehow magical, and it continued through all the favorites, from “have yourself a merry little christmas” to “i’ll be home for christmas.”

“it really isn’t christmas until we put this record on,” my dad said. and he was right.

“irreplaceable” was cranked up on the stereo yesterday as i waited in line at the local convenience store. a very slow cashier was warbling along with beyonce as she checked people out.

“to the left, to the left,” she sang off-key, pausing as beyonce took the lead… though not long enough to say much to her customers beyond how much they owed for their diet soda and unleaded gasoline.

despite her questionable skills, the cashier inspired another woman in line to quietly sing along. as you might expect, i was unable to resist the urge to hum the tune as well.

*here’s a new semi-regular column here at ¡viva la graham!, where we’ll relay our everyday experiences with pop culture in the real world. keep reading!