Ari Fu*#ing Shapiro was the subject line of an email Nick sent to me last week.
Backstory: A few years back Nick and I made a rare live music outing and went to the SF symphony to see one of our favorite bands, Pink Martini. It was a spectacular evening of music with China Forbes (lead singer) backed by a full orchestra. She even sang my favorite song, Hey Eugene. Perfect night. Or so I thought.
After a few more songs, China announced Pink Martini’s new album that included a duet with longtime friend, Ari Shapiro. Huh? Ari Shapiro the NPR news correspondent? China was aglow as she introduced Ari—former intern to Nina Totenberg, Morning Edition, and finally the youngest NPR reporter to become a White House correspondent. Hell, he was a regular CJ Cregg (favorite character on favorite TV Show, The The West Wing. I know, know—CJ was Press Secretary, not a correspondent). Nick and I shot a telepathic look to one another: “Charmed fu#*ing life, Ari.”
As China invited Ari out on stage, I knew we were again thinking the exact same thing: please, let him have a radio face—you know a face that chose a radio career for a reason. But no—this beautiful man walks out in a beautifully tailored blue silk suit (I noticed), kisses China and graciously thanks her, the band and the love of his life, his husband who he married in SF’s City Hall in February, 2004—a time we may all remember because it was when then Mayor Gavin Newsom made the bold move to issue same-sex marriage licenses. Roaring applause. Nick and I drove home in silence.
So what was in the body of Nick’s email? A link to this blog post. Apparently Ari has moved to London (our favorite city) to the NPR’s London correspondent and has somehow found the time to blog about the struggles of his new expat life. Really?
I head to London tomorrow for a quick business trip and I half expect to run into an impeccably dressed Ari strolling the Thames, arm-in-arm with Kate, William and George in tow. All three, baby George included, hang on Ari’s every word.
Fu*#ing Ari Shapiro.