So

New Year's Eve was a surfeit of surf and turf (claws, fire-roasted animals, roe, tails, shells.) Snoop Dogg and Ludacris performed. Billy Joel stood in a corner and smoked cigarettes. The go-go dancers wore wings and the waiters dressed like tennis pros, but carried Dom Perignon instead of rackets.

Jaime Foxx shook my hand. He was covered in distracting surfaces (mirrored sunglasses, diamond earrings, polka-dotted shirt.) He tilted his head in a way that made him look like an Oscar-winning blind man for real. He said, "2006 is going to be a very good year. An excellent year."

I said: "Yeah, man." Then he was gone.