George Clooney Slept Here

I have had a crush on Andy Williams ever since I heard him sing “Moon River” at the 1962 Academy Awards. He and his turtleneck sweaters, holiday TV specials and eight Christmas albums were as much a part of my family’s annual tradition as hot cider, corn pudding and being forbidden from opening presents until reading the biblical Christmas story in Matthew 1:18.

Now that Andy’s gone (he died on September 25th of bladder cancer), I wasn’t sure I could get through the holidays without shedding a tear every time I heard his soothing voice belting out, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

I was happy to discover that his legacy — and, indeed, the daily singing of that perennial holiday classic — is very much alive in Branson, Missouri. His Moon River Theatre, once featured in Architectural Digest, has been hosting yearly Christmas shows since 1992 when he first built the $12 million structure on 16 acres of Ozark countryside far from the glare of Hollywood, a move his agent, wife and most of his friends considered utterly insane.

It turned out to be one of the best impulsive decisions he ever made, single-handedly breathing new life into both his singing career and Branson, the city 60 Minutes dubbed the “live music capital of the entire universe.” Branson, thanks to Andy, is now also recognized as one of the best places on Planet Earth to celebrate Christmas.

In fact, on October 31st, when the rest of the country is passing out sugary treats to costumed tots, the employees of Andy Williams’ Moon River Theatre (and, indeed, the rest of the tiny Ozark burg) are busily hanging garlands and lights and festooning the 190 Christmas trees for the November 1st debut of the heart-warming Christmas show that memorializes the beloved TV specials America watched for so many years. And according to Andy’s wife, Debbie, and his three kids with Claudine Longet, who are working hard to preserve his legacy, that’s not going to end anytime soon.

Sadly, Mr. Christmas, as he was crowned, is no longer here in person to headline the nightly show, but the theater with its 300,000 lights and the show will, just as Andy wanted, go on. His spirit is alive in every holiday song, every picture (Forget going to the wax museum. You can see photos of Andy and every celebrity from Jackie Onassis to Elton John to Ann-Margret right there on the premises) and every piece of art that he collected during his 75 years in show business.

Yes, the silver-tongued crooner was a significant contemporary art collector, named by Art and Antiques magazine as one of the country’s best. Pieces from his extensive collection are on display at Moon River Theatre and Moon River Grill, everything from Navajo rugs to Willem de Kooning, from Pollock to Picasso, from Klee to Andy Warhol, who I was told was his neighbor back in the days he survived by eating Alfpo, one of the surprising details in his 2010 memoir, Moon River and Me.

The grill with its bar surrounded by Andy’s 18 gold albums (everything from the theme songs to “Love Story” to “Days of Wine and Roses”) serves all of Andy’s favorite dishes, using recipes made by his mom, Florence, a housewife in Wall City, Iowa where he was born on December 3, 1927.

The nightly Christmas show couldn’t be more endearing with dozens of acts, all hand-picked by Andy himself, lots of nostalgic clips from his eight-decade career in show business and an emcee who could easily be a body double.

At Williams’ October 24th Branson memorial, good friend Bob Newhart said it best, “Christmas will never be the same without you.” While he’s probably right, Branson is sure doing a brilliant job preserving his never-to-be-forgotten legacy.

Photos: Compliments of Andy Williams Moon River Theatre.

Lots of places offer cheap, flimsy punch cards that entitle you to a free coffee or a free smoothie when you’ve met a certain quota.

But at Branson’s Level 2 Steakhouse, “frequent fliers” who show up a mere five times receive their very own steak knife engraved with their very own name. It’s called the Cut Club and so far, more than 3000 people have qualified. The knives are alphabetized and kept in a special case in the kitchen. Mickey Gilley and Andy Williams are just two who have earned their own engraved knife.

Even newbies have the opportunity to survey a fine collection of steak knives and pick that special one for cutting into their ever-so juicy filet mignon, Kansas City strip, ribeye, porterhouse or prime rib. Think of it as match.com for the carnivore.

But to get a custom-engraved knife, an amazing perk if ever there was one, it does require five visits. But, believe me, that requirement is a piece of Missouri Butter Cake. Once you have your first taste of this locally-sourced, 28-day aged Midwestern corn-fed beef, fired to perfection in a 1600-degree infrared oven, wild horses will not be able to keep you away.

Already, management was forced to discontinue one of the knives, a stainless steel Bowie knife that retails as Bass Pro for several time more than five steaks.

“We’d have gone out of business if we kept that one in the collection,” joked Bill Derbins, general manager of Hilton Branson Convention Center.

Of course, steak isn’t the only thing on the Level 2 menus. There’s fresh seafood flown in daily from Hawaii, locally-raised Heritage Missouri pork and deserts so decadent you’ll definitely want to run the nearby mile and a half footpath along Lake Taneycomo. But don’t be surprised if you’re yelling, “Level 2 Steakhouse is amazingly awesome” as you run with unfettered joy.

My personal desert favorites were the Missouri Butter Cake, a gooey, moist butter cake with bourbon caramel sauce, fresh raspberries, ice cream and, as if that wasn’t enough, whipped cream, and a Seven-Layer-Chocolate Cake that could feed the entire Osmond family.

Level 2 Steakhouse is on the second floor of the sleek, 12-story tower that makes up the Hilton Branson Convention Center. It’s also known as the miracle hotel because just seven months after a Leap Day tornado blew out nearly 3400 panes of glass, the hotel was back open for business with new carpeting and new green upgrades.

It’s one thing to learn about a foreign country through spy movies, outdated Cold War propaganda and sound bites. It’s a whole different education looking a foreigner in the eye and listening to what they really think.

“People think it’s politicians who will change the world,” says Diana Lapshina, cruise director of the Scenic Tsar, the first new passenger vessel on the Moscow-St. Petersburg waterways since the Soviet thaw. “But this, this face-to-face interaction among the common people, this is how we come to understand each other. Through friendships, one-on-one.”

Although international relations was probably not the top priority for this year’s introduction of the new luxury Scenic Tsar, a sleek, amenity-laden vessel that sails back and forth between Moscow and St. Petersburg, it’s certainly one of its most satisfying bonuses. For an idealist like me who believes in the power of travel to further truth, peace and open communication, my recent voyage on the refurbished river barge couldn’t have been more meaningful.

I had daily interaction with Russians from all age groups, from those who once stood in lines for chickens and toilet paper to young fashionistas who snatch up pricey Denis Simachev (Moscow’s 38-year-old wild child designer) t-shirts as fast as he can get them into Moscow’s opulent new shopping malls.

Suffice it to say, the Russian story I grew up with is no more accurate than recent jargon about nefarious geopolitical threats from a foolhardy presidential candidate.

“We hear from Romney that we are returning to communism. And we think, ‘Really?'” says Arty Lavronenko, a Russian linguist who travels back and forth between the two countries. “That’s certainly news to us.”

He went on to opine about not only politicians, but about mass media that he calls “one of the biggest tragedies of the 21st century.”

At least when it comes to spreading fear and misinformation. Let’s take Pussy Riot, for example. Most Russians, although proud of their newly-acquired freedom of speech, think Pussy Riot deserved to be punished.

“Maybe not two years in work camps. That might have been a bit severe,” says Vadim Palchun, a poetic Russian who sees both sides of Russia’s transformation from hammer and sickle to Hermes and sable. “But most Russians (86 percent according to Levada Center, Russia’s equivalent of Gallup Polls) feel it was disrespectful to protest in a church.”

Indeed, a mere six percent of Russians sympathize with the all-female group that has dominated the headlines since their February 21 performance in Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Savior. Even Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Maria Alyokhina, although flattered by the support, reiterated from prison camp that they don’t want their music turned into “a capitalist commodity.”

But back to Russian indignation over choosing the church as a political platform. To Russians, who surprised me with their devotion to religion, surely a byproduct of being deprived of it for 74 years, there are some lines better not crossed.

Still, they’re fiercely protective of their freedom of expression.

“We can say whatever we want,” Lavronenko emphasized, proving his point by making a joke about Putin and insisting his wife needs a new hair cut. “See, there’s no KGB coming after me.”

No subject was off-limits with the Scenic Tsar’s all-Russian staff who were consistently warm, friendly and eager to dispel ongoing rumors and stereotypes. In fact, we were far more reticent picking “acceptable topics” than the Russians were in answering our questions with unapologetic aplomb.

Meeting such amusing, thoughtful and uninhibited Russians was by far the highlight of the 14-day cruise between the country’s two most well-known cities. But here are five more reasons why Russia’s new Scenic Tsar is, in my humble opinion, the best introduction to a misunderstood country:

1. Nothing about Russia is straight-forward. Winston Churchill’s comment that Russia is “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma” is still true today. Nothing here is simple, not getting a visa, not traversing the country (traffic is never-ending, resembling LA freeways at the best of times) and certainly not understanding the language. So by putting your travel fates in the hands of Scenic Tsar’s expert staff, confusion and wasted time is all but eliminated. No-nonsense Lapshina went so far as to help us navigate ATM’s and decipher dollar to rouble ratios.

2. Hotel rooms are outrageous. For nearly a decade, Moscow has led the list of cities with most expensive hotel rooms. According to a biannual study by Hogg Robinson Group (HRG), the Russian capital is numero uno when it comes to top price ($407 average nightly rate), mainly because the hotel demand is simply higher than the supply. On the Scenic Tsar, your bedroom is included (as well as amazing food, live nightly music and an on-board doctor) and there’s no need to repack your bags when moving from city to city. Plus, this small boat (56 rooms) with balcony cabins, sophisticated lighting, plenty of closet space, free WiFi and other luxury accoutrements puts most hotel offerings to shame.

3. There’s more to Russia than Moscow and St. Petersburg. I wouldn’t trade my four days in each of those cities for all the Faberge eggs in Russia. Well, maybe for all of them. Seeing the Kremlin, Red Square and, of course, the Hermitage in St. Petersburg has been on my bucket list for years. But to really experience a new place, beyond the pat description in a guidebook, it’s important to leave the city behind, to get out into the country, meet people who don’t cater to tourists. This Imperial Jewels of Russia tour winds through many rivers, Europe’s two biggest lakes, in and out of locks and stops in several exotically historic small towns including the Golden Ring city of Yaroslavl, founded in 1010, and Khizi Island, whose 22 timbered onion domes is one of few Russian locations in the new film, Anna Karenina. Of Russia’s 15 World Heritage sites, Scenic Tsar takes in four.

4. Private ballet performances and other perks are thrown in. How many people can say they’ve seen a private ballet performance in an Imperial Russian Palace? In a small theater in the sumptuously barbaric Vladimir Palace, just down the Neva from the Winter Palace, we enjoyed a rare performance by dancers from two of St. Petersburg’s great ballet companies. Our visit to the Moscow Space museum concluded with a Q and A with former cosmonaut Alexandre Laveykin. Scenic Cruises sets up lots of rare, one-of-a-kind experiences including vodka tasting, (who knew there were so many kinds of vodka), riding Moscow’s impressive Metro and a special tour of Ivan the Terrible’s 400-year-old St. Basil’s Cathedral. And because the Scenic Tsar is all-inclusive, there is no charge for this impressive line-up of excursions.

5. Even the boat itself has a romantic heritage. Although the ship is marketed as the Scenic Tsar by an Australian company (Scenic Cruises, a leader in upping the ante on Europe river cruising), it’s owned by a Russian company and its bow still carries its original name, the Alexander Grin. Grin, although not as well-known as Tolstoy, Pushkin, Dostoevsky and other Russian scribes, was a poet and novelist who lived in St. Petersburg in the early 20th century. Scarlet Sails, probably his best known story, is a fantasy tale about explorers finding adventure, romance and ultimate truth. To my way of thinking, the name is absolutely perfect.

Photos: E. Gillies/Scenic Tours

If you’re still looking for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, you’ve got this weekend to get to Omaha, Nebraska ASAP.

The Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts held over artist Michael Jones McKean’s The Rainbow through October. That means the skies over Old Town Omaha’s cobblestone streets will feature an honest-to-goodness, manmade rainbow tonight and tomorrow.

Playing weatherman (some might say God) is an ambitious undertaking, one that requires harvested rainwater, atmospheric scientists, engineering experts, six 10,500-gallon water tanks, a custom-designed 60 horsepower pump and extensive building modifications. But then that’s what the Bemis Center is all about — making artist’s dreams true.

Since 1984, their artist-in-residence studio program has given hundreds of local, national and international artists studio space, living accommodations and a monthly stipend. That generosity has produced everything from an interactive cotton candy exhibition created by Chinese artist Ying Zhu to Tilly and the Wall’s “Bottom of the Barrels” album. In 2005, this Coachella favorite (along with their tap-dancing drummer) were the Bemis’ first band in residence.

“The support we offer gives artists the chance to experiment with something new, to veer off in whole new creative directions,” says Hesse McGraw, head curator at the Bemis who helped line up the elaborate equipment required to produce Jones McKean’s on-demand rainbows.

Touring us around the former five-story industrial warehouse’s three main galleries and spacious studios, McGraw led us by a wooden set being built by current fellow Meredith James.

“I think I’ve found your goats,” McGraw assured her, explaining to us that anything an artist needs, Bemis finds a way to supply it. Jones McKean, for example, requested a Bristlecone pine tree, the oldest living thing on the planet, to accompany his ephemeral rainbow. McGraw, like always, managed to secure one.

“We have a very accommodating fan base,” he said. “Omaha is extremely generous with its artists.”

As for Jones McKean, a Guggenheim recipient, a former Bemis fellow and now a sculpture professor at Virginia Commonwealth University, he’d been playing with creating public rainbows for ten years. But it wasn’t until the Bemis charitably ponied up the means to make it happen that the full-size technicolor arcs became a reality.

Every weekend night at approximately 6:30, the collected rainwater sprays from nine nozzles on the Bemis roof, producing the kind of dream-like rainbow about which Dorothy sang. A good half of the 130-foot wall of water lands back on the roof, ready for reuse the following night.

Even though the specially-installed tanks can collect up to 8,000 gallons from a single inch of rain, this summer’s drought put a dent in the summer-long spontaneous performances which is why the rainbows are still available through October. But don’t dawdle.

Like a rainbow itself, the magnificent public art exhibit won’t last forever.

A United Nations report made waves last May for suggesting that South Dakota’s Black Hills should be returned to the Sioux. After all, UN fact finder James Anaya argued, an 1868 treaty did promise these sacred lands would forever remain in tribal hands. But then General George Custer found gold and well, in 1887 Congress passed a law that said, “Sorry, just kidding.”

Ironically, the United Nations itself almost took over the Black Hills. Back in 1945, a valley just south of Rapid City made the short list for the headquarters of the newly-formed UN along with Geneva, Brussels, FDR’s family estate in Hyde Park and, of course, Manhattan where it was eventually built. CBS news commentator Edward R. Murrow went so far as to suggest that the fresh air of the Black Hills would aid in clear thinking, definitely a plus for an organization designed to keep international peace.

But then, in a last minute bid, John D. Rockefeller, Jr. ponied up $8.5 million if they’d build it on the 18 acres along Manhattan’s East River. So now the UN’s 16,400 jobs, 400,000 tourists and $1.5 billion in annual revenue reside in New York.**

And that chosen land in the Black Hills? Well, it’s being used for an equally valuable purpose: to teach kids of all ages about reptiles and other animals. More than a thousand snakes, ancient tortoises, 16-foot crocodiles and a fortune-telling chicken entertain the masses on the very land where Kofi Anan, Eleanor Roosevelt, Dag Hammarskjold and other UN delegates would have, in an alternate reality, beat their gavels.

Reptile Gardens, I’m happy to report, is probably making more headway in its mission, not to mention that it’s a lot more entertaining. Of course, it’s had a good 10 years on the United Nations. Back in 1935, a 19-year-old rancher’s kid who loved snakes worked as a guide at another South Dakota tourist attraction. At the end of his tour, Earl Brockelsby would remove his giant Stetson and reveal a live diamond back rattlesnake coiled upon his head.

Guests were so fascinated that it didn’t take the enterprising lad long to figure out that they’d probably also pay to see other reptiles. Heck, he’d even throw in some flowers and birds. He and some buddies built an 18 by 24-foot “zoo” at the top of a hill (they didn’t move to the proposed United Nations site until 1965) where, according to his son, Johnny, who still works at Reptile Gardens along with lots of other family members, cars would overheat.

Admission back then was 10 cents for adults, 5 cents for children and on the first day of operation Reptile Gardens took in a grand total of $3.85. By 1941, the business had 15 employees and was turning a handsome profit. Today, on the very land where the United Nations almost set up shop, Reptile Gardens has a Sky Dome complete with a Safari room where guests can walk among cactus, exotic plants and free-roaming reptiles. Although common at zoos now, Reptile Gardens was the first in the country to try this unique approach.

It also has exotic bird shows, alligator wrestling, an Old West town and, with more than 225 species, more reptiles than any zoo in the world. There’s a giant albino python named Marilyn, a baby alligator named Fluffy, the only venomous Inland Taipan in the United States and a world renowned team of animal conservationists whose goal is to educate and protect the rare, unusual and beautiful reptiles that share our planet.

There’s even a movie star crocodile. Remember Live and Let Die where James Bond makes his escape across the backs of three giant crocs? One of those crocs lives at Reptile Gardens a few exhibits down from an 8-foot endangered Komodo Dragon whose signage lists blood-curdling deaths (leaving nothing but mangled glasses or shoes) inflicted on some 20 victims over the last few years. Not here, thankfully.

And when Nicholas Cage, who was forced to give up his live-in cobras, Moby and Sheba, when neighbors threatened to sue after he made the mistake of mentioning on David Letterman that he shared his home with them, came to the Black Hills to film National Treasure II: Book of Secrets, he and his wife spent a long time touring the gardens. He even commended the wild animal park for having one of the most ferocious crocs (Maniac is 15’8” and weighs 1250 pounds, an estimate since they don’t have a scale big enough to officially weigh him) he’d ever seen. Johnny says they’ve considered changing Maniac’s name to “Oh my Gosh” since that’s what most people say when they first see him.

OMG is also a fit description for this fascinating zoo that knows the best way to educate is to entertain.

So this year, on October 24, official United Nations Day, consider celebrating, not in New York, but at its other location in the Black Hills.Reptile Gardens. U.S. 16 Rapid City, SD 57702, (605) 342-5873

**According to data collected in 1995 by the NYC Commission for the United Nations

Deadwood, South Dakota doesn’t typically spring to mind as a mecca for chocolate. But it should. Outside this little town of 1200, the third U.S. destination after Nevada and Atlantic City to legalize gambling, there’s an old 1930’s Sinclair gas station where seriously delicious truffles are hand-dipped daily.

For impatient sorts who just can’t wait for the little store’s 10 a.m. opening, there’s a vending machine out front (it’s next to the 700-pound chainsaw statue of Chubby Chipmunk) that dispenses nine types of the average 1.5-ounce truffles.

“We have to refill it most every morning,” says Mary “Chip” Tautkus, the evil genius behind Chubby Chipmunk Hand-Dipped Chocolates, which were chosen for the swag bags for this year’s Country Music Awards (November 1) and for the Latin Grammys two weeks later.

All totaled, Chip and her staff make more than 50 types of hand-dipped truffles, everything from Moose Toffee, that placed first in Seattle’s Chocolate Show this year, to the Double Dark Dan, a 72 percent ganache named after Dan Dority, casino owner Al Swearengen’s enforcer on the HBO drama, Deadwood.

“We were sure sorry to see that series end,” Tautkus says, “It was pretty amazing.”

Also pretty ironic considering that’s exactly what people say about her small batch truffles and chocolates which, purely by word of mouth, have ignited worldwide fame, sought after by such fans as Rachael Ray and W. Earl Brown, the actor who played Dority in the HBO series that pulled down so many Emmy awards.

“You probably shouldn’t print this,” Tautkus says, “But there was a policeman the other day who was so excited about getting his truffle out of the Chub-O-Matic (her nickname for the sandwich dispenser turned truffle vending machine) that when this beat up car blared down the street without a muffler, sparks flying everywhere, he didn’t even turn around.”

Another fan, a motorcyclist heading home after the big Sturgis rally (Deadwood is a short 14 miles from Sturgis) loaded up a cooler and a seven-pound tin of truffles on the back of his cycle, stopping every couple hours to refill the ice for a 1200-mile journey back to Canada.

Yet another duo, a pair of local poker-playing sisters, make regular midnight runs to the Chub-O-Matic in their pajamas and fuzzy slippers after a successful night at the Deadwood casinos.

“I come just to be inspired by greatness,” claimed one customer, intently unwrapping the brown box holding her Turtle Truffle, a milk chocolate ganache with caramel and pecan.

“It really is true that if you follow your passion, dreams come true,” says the former nurse who started making chocolates when she was a kid. “We just keep growing. People come in and tell me that what we have is magical. They insist on sending boxes to all their friends.”

Just this week, she had to hire three new employees, one a teacher who left behind her special ed class to help accommodate Chubby’s 50 percent yearly growth since the business opened in 2005.

“A marketing guy insisted I get rid of the name. He said, ‘People will never come into a chocolate store with the word chubby in it’,” Chip laughs. “Needless to say, he has since called to apologize, admitting he couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Tautkus says the wheels in her brain never stop churning, always coming up with new flavors and new concoctions including five-pound bowling ball truffles and such seasonal specialties as Easter’s jelly bean, St. Patrick’s green cheddar beer and Thanksgiving’s upcoming pumpkin cheescake. The “Hot Mama,” a dark truffle with jalapeno, habanero, cayenne and chipotle and the “Cerveza con Limon,” a white chocolate infused with dark beer and lime, were conceived through other “light bulb” moments.

Perhaps her biggest coup was becoming one of a handful of worldwide chocolatiers to land a contract with Maranon Chocolate that sells Fortunato No. 4, a rich, rare, mellow couverture made from cacoa beans of the Nacional cacoa tree.

Declared extinct in the early 20th century after succumbing to disease that even cross-breeding couldn’t cure, the Ecuadorian tree (Ecuador was once the world’s largest cacao producer) was rediscovered growing on an isolated farm in Peru’s 6000-foot wall Maranon Canyon in 2007.

“It’s about as decadent as you can get,” Tautkis says.

So Jennifer Anniston and Justin Theroux are officially engaged, sealed with an emerald eight-carat diamond. While speculation runs akimbo about where (Greece, where she lived for a year or so as a kid, is high on the list of possibilities) and when (perhaps as soon as “We’re the Millers?” wraps in October), I’d like to propose we “leave the love birds alone” and, instead, satisfy our luxury-wandering souls with a look at the wildly chic places they’ve already visited.

Take the Paris Ritz, for example. Ever since 1898, when it opened on the Place Vendome, this palatial hotel has pretty much owned the gold medal in hotel luxury. It’s where Coco Channel lived for 35 years, where Princess Di and Dodi Al-Fayed enjoyed their last dinner and where Ernest Hemingway fantasized he’d spend heaven. Although no one’s saying whether Jenn and Justin’s June getaway to the Ritz included the Imperial Suite, an official French National Monument with 20-foot ceilings, Louix XVI furniture and a four-poster bed modeled after Marie Antoinette’s, we do know it included such outings as romantic dinners at the Eiffel Tower, shopping the arcades of Palais Royal and relaxing walks through Jardin des Tuileries.

In Rome, the Wanderlust co-stars chose Hotel de Russie, an updated 19th-century palazzo enviably situated between the Spanish Steps and Piazza del Popolo. It’s near Via Condotti (can someone say shopping?) and the Vatican (which Jenn enjoyed in a rules-breaking short grey dress) or, for those who’d rather kick it on-site, there’s a tiered hillside garden (complete with butterfly sanctuary), one of Rome’s best spas (with its own Turkish bath) and the al fresco Stravinskij martini bar.

Next up was Capri and JK Place, an intimate, 22-room property on Marina Grande that, thanks to designer Michele Bönan, has an eclectic art collector’s vibe with retro 60’s statues, antiques, stacks of art books, potted orchids and billowing white curtains. The 19th-century villa turned resort is perched on a cliff overlooking the Bay of Naples and to get back and forth to their 60-foot yacht, Liberty of Lymington, Jenn and Justin rode a 3-minute funicular with views of Vesuvius.

Congratulations! And don’t forget to write!!

I’ve traveled next to lots of celebrities–Nicole Kidman, Sylvester Stallone, Billy Joel, to name just a couple. I even spent a 14-hour flight from Australia to LA playing cards with ski movie superstar, Glen Plake, minus the mohawk.

But the celebrity I met on my recent trip to Quebec City was, by far, the most agreeable. Not once did he complain. Or refuse to sign an autograph. Or balk at the never-ending demands of his handler. When he accidentally spilled pizza sauce on his beard while dining at Savini Resto-Bar on the Grande-Allée, a trendy street frequented by lots of hipsters, he didn’t pout or insist on immediate clean-up. No, he happily posed while groupies eagerly snapped photos while tomato sauce dribbled down his most treasured feature.

Yes, I’m talking about Travelocity’s Roaming Gnome who, like me, was visiting this 400-year-old city for the annual New France Festival. He’d already visited Quebec City during the famous Winter Carnival. That he came back, after being forced to sleep frozen in a block of ice at the famous Hotel de Glace, is a testament to his unwavering affability.

The well-known spokesgnome even agreed, in order to get into the spirit of Les Fetes de la Nouvelle-France, as they call this Signature Canadian event, to don a black, three-cornered hat on top of his signature red, pointy one.

I’m telling you, the guy can roll. Over the course of our four-day trip, he posed for countless photos, drank mass quantities of apple cider (without a single hiccup) and endured six swords all aimed at his pointy little head, not once forsaking his enigmatic little smile.

Even when people would gush, “mon petit mignon” (which I think means, “my cute little darling”), he, unlike most short dudes I know, took it all in with an uncommon stoicism.

It’s no wonder Travelocity keeps renewing the little guy’s contract.

You have a choice. You can either shovel out a Ben Franklin or two for a seat at a Cirque du Soleil performance in Vegas or New York or one of the other hundreds of venues where the innovative circus arts company performs.

Cédric Egain.

Or you can head to Quebec City and see an equally-impressive Cirque show for….are you sitting down?….absolutely free. Every summer for the last four years, Cirque du Soleil has created a complimentary show for the city that launched its success back in 1984.

Before the multimillion-dollar Cirque was booking sell-out shows in some 270 cities around the globe, it was a small ragtag theater troupe whose fire-breathing, accordion-playing creator was only able to keep the wolf from the door with unemployment insurance. After walking 56 miles on stilts from Baie-Saint-Paul to the Parliament in Quebec City, the gang of street performers convinced the Quebecois government to offer them a $1.3 million grant to tour the province for the celebration of the 450th anniversary of Jacques Cartier’s discovery of Canada.

Let’s just say it was one government investment that worked. Cirque du Soleil today rakes in a billion a year and owner Guy Laliberte, on unemployment insurance no longer, owns seven homes, an island and paid $35 million a few years ago to be the seventh non-astronaut in space.

As a thank you to the city that first took a chance on the avant-garde circus troop, Cirque du Soleil created “Les Chemins Invisibles,” a five-chapter show performed outdoors under a highway overpass in the trendy Saint-Roch district. The free performance runs five nights a week throughout the summer.

Not that you need an excuse to visit this gorgeous, cobblestoned UNESCO World Heritage city. Summers in Quebec City amount to one big party with endless festivals, a lively café vibe and non-stop street performances.

One morning, as early as 8 a.m., I enjoyed a barrel-chested opera singer belting out Rigoletto’s ‘Caro Nome’ under the imposing statue of Samuel de Champlain on the wooden-planked terrace overlooking the Saint Lawrence River.

Champlain, the mapmaker who is credited with founding the city in 1608, was the reason I was visiting Quebec City. Every year, during the first week of August, Quebec City throws a New France Festival, a rousing five-day celebration of the city’s 400-year-history. Like the one-day Renaissance Festivals so popular in the U.S., this festival features historic demonstrations, baroque ensembles and costumed performers. But unlike the U.S. wannabe’s often held in vacant cornfields, Les Fetes de la Nouvelle-France, as they call it in this French-speaking city, is staged on cobblestone plazas within thick protective walls. It’s about as authentic as you can get.

For five days, the historic streets of Old Quebec are filled with fascinating characters, everything from cart pullers to snobby-nosed noblemen, from stilt walkers to silversmiths, all nodding, curtsying, promenading and generally having a 17th century good time.

Even visitors can get in on the pageantry. Just because I wasn’t one of the actors performing a vignette about say, sword making or shoe cobbling doesn’t mean I couldn’t dress up. Practically everyone does even if it means getting up an hour earlier to cinch yourself into your dress or your brocade waistcoat. Zippers and snaps, of course, weren’t invented back then, so the costumes my daughter and I wore involved countless eyelets, strings and cinching that, much to a teenager’s chagrin, can’t be accomplished without assistance. Instructions and patterns for costumes are generously posted on the festival’s website even though some overachievers, I’m told, budget more than a thousand dollars for each year’s new rendition.

Needless to say, a bit of uncinching was in ordering at the public market where there were just too many tempting libations from smoked trout, French Canadian meat pies and grilled goat cheese to cups of just-picked blueberries and maple-flavored ice cream.

The festivities kick off each year with the Parade of the Giants, 12 giant marionettes, accompanied by hundreds of costumed revelers followed by concerts, dance performances, ghost tours, spectacular fireworks, archaeological digs and more than 1000 other events. It’s no wonder this festival was recently chosen by the Canadian Tourism Commission as one of the country’s Signature Experiences.

Can someone say “Huzzah!!” Or better yet, “Tres Charmant.”

Taz Grout

No word yet on whether Taylor Swift’s new album will feature the song she wrote this year about the Kennedy clan.

But we do know she’s spending a lot of time in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts at the Kennedy family compound, first on Fourth of July and last weekend in a rental house on the massive property.

Swift first met the famous family through Rory, whose HBO documentary “Ethel,” about her mother, widow of Robert Kennedy, debuted this year at Sundance.

Swift, who has been fascinated with the famous family for years, asked the documentary filmmaker if it might be possible to meet Ethel and Rory said, “Sure, here’s her number.”

Taylor turned heads when she showed up at the ski town-turned indie film nexus holding hands and giggling like schoolgirls with 83-year-old Ethel.

For the record, Swift called the movie, “moving, hilarious, and beautiful.”

More recently, America’s sweetheart was spotted holding hands with Kennedys closer to her own age. During the Fourth of July bash where the patriotic clan dressed up in red, white and blue wigs, hats and other crazy costumes, it was speculated the 22-year-old music diva was hooking up with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s son, Patrick. Especially when he tweeted that Fourth of July 2012 was the best ever.

But during last week’s visit to the family’s Cape Cod estate, the six-time Grammy award winner was caught on camera gleefully consorting with Conor Kennedy, Ethel’s 18-year-old grandson, the son of Robert Kennedy Jr. They reportedly went sailing, went to a party and even attended church together. The New York Post claims it was their third date.

Conor, who is four years younger than the Nashville superstar, turned 18 on July 24 and, unlike Swift who registered to vote on her 18th birthday, immediately filed to be administrator of his dead mother’s estate. Mary Kennedy, 52, hung herself on May 16.

So while we can only speculate on whether Swift’s song about the Kennedys will make the cut for her new album, this we know for sure. If won’t feature backup vocals from anybody in the Kennedy clan. “We love to sing,” Rory reports. “But we are actually terrible, terrible singers.”