Elvis, Britney, and American Idol

I met Priscilla & Lisa Marie Presley tonight at the Paley Center Tribute to Elvis. They were both very nice. Being a fan of Elvis and Lisa Marie, it was a fun shoot...despite being a logistical nightmare. The publicist had all of us squeezed into a small balcony on the 2nd floor of the Arclight Theatre. A bunch of still and video photographers and various producers. But last night, we were literally on the street! It was the "How I Met Your Mother" return party at a very cool joint...the Palihouse Holloway. But despite wrist bands, the media was only allowed inside for about 15 minutes. The rest of the time, we spent outside on a tiny patch of sidewalk or in the street...until water started rushing down and getting all of our equipment wet. Of course, the only thing anyone wanted to talk about was Britney appearing on an episode of that show later. Earlier in the week, I also did an American Idol shoot where we gathered all the friends and family of Brooke White, one of the contestants, at a pizza joint. And...I got to meet Alex Cambert...a young and cuter version of Jerry Seinfeld. But he's Latino and is known as the Latin Leno because he has his own highly-rated late night talk show on Telemundo. Very funny and VERY cute.

Loftwarming!

The view from the rooftop of my new loft building!

The loftwarming was very successful. It was very crowded in my place, but it ended up being a lot of fun. A lot of people came on time or early. By 7:30, the place was packed! Wall to wall people. We ended the night partying at the neighbor's. I love my place.

Rules from a Texas Gentleman (my take)

I love this. This is sort of a follow up to my earlier post about the differences between a "nice guy" and a doormat. Nice guys are gentlemen. And here are some rules that gentlemen follow. I love southern men. Manners are important. And as a side note...I know Andy Langer (the guy to whom Lyle Lovett told these rules)...hung out with him in Austin a million years ago. Ha! Ha!

Rules from a Texas Gentleman

By Lyle Lovett
The first rule of manhood is that they are in charge. Give it up. Realize they're smarter and better looking. We don't have a chance. You have to do everything you can to help yourself.

A woman comes to a table and you're supposed to get up. Period. But I don't always do it. In general, you're supposed to do it every time. But sometimes you're seated against the wall and it's awkward.

Never guess a woman's age. Never guess a woman's weight. Never even talk about weight in front of a woman. And never, ever ask a woman when she's due.

Tipping your hat to a lady is good form. If you're at a dinner table, you'd most certainly take your hat off—cowboy hat, baseball hat, or otherwise.

Women always go through the door first. Even ardent feminists would admit it's nice. It's not an acknowledgment of women as the weaker sex; it's perhaps an acknowledgment of women as the stronger sex. We follow.

Never pass a woman a single roll, even if she says, "Don't pass them all over." Don't do it. Bring her the whole basket. Some things are a trick. I can hear the phone conversation later on with a girlfriend, "I asked him to pass a single roll. And he did!" It's a trap.

There's etiquette to listening: If they're talking, shut up. Just shut up. Simple enough?

In our modern world, what constitutes a thank-you note? Being able to dash off a text message has enabled me to be more immediate and less guilty. I believe the old adage that the sooner you write a thank-you note, the less you need to write. I realize that among real sticklers for manners, e-mails and texts would be verboten, but I think they can convey genuine sentiment.

Never look in a woman's purse—invited or uninvited. Especially invited. Just refuse. Bring her her purse, don't fish around in there. We don't know what's in there, and we don't want to know.

Who are these guys that order for women? Never order for a woman. You're going to tell a woman what to eat? Never tell a woman anything. Ask. And be grateful for whatever reply you might get.

The idea is that you'd be like Cary Grant or George Clooney, in a graceful ballet of walking down the street, opening the door, and ushering a young lady into a limousine. But I'm really more like Maxwell Smart. I was opening a door for my fiancé today and I stepped on the back of her shoe and almost knocked her over. It happens a lot.

—As told to Andy Langer