Barbarians at the gate

Loosely Speaking by Nancy Gaines

Fidelity Investments planned to unveil its Peter Lynch ad campaign at a big company party at the FleetCenter on September 1. As if to underscore the point of the campaign -- that no one can predict where the stock market will go -- the day before, the Dow plunged 500 points. The party was canceled, but the ads linger on. In one set, legendary stock picker (and Fidelity trustee) Lynch plays the straight man, explaining the basics of investing to Lily Tomlin's numskull investor. In another, Lynch play-acts with Don Rickles in a sketch along the same lines.

While the message of the ad campaign is sound -- that investors should play for the long term -- the medium is also the message. And the cynicism that impels Fidelity to play to the lowest common denominator -- if they can make us laugh while we're losing money, we'll just keep forking over the dough -- is nothing but hucksterism. Ten years ago, such vulgar notions would have had bow ties aflutter at the Union Club. But, then again, Ned Johnson's Fidelity didn't get to be the biggest mutual fund company in the world, managing almost $700 billion, by being reticent.

Elegantly wasted After providing three martinis at each of 11 restaurants, the martini taste-test contest recently sponsored by Grey Goose vodka was not really about which restaurant won but about which of the "celebrity judges" were left standing. At places including Biba, Mistral, Zinc, Top of the Hub, Ambrosia, Julien, and Mercury Bar, the traveling imbiber show rated a Dirty, a Cosmopolitan, and the house-special martini. Of the 24 judges, some were standouts. Boston magazine publisher Tim Montgomery swore he would take it slow, but by the end of the night he was entertaining the crowd at Barbara Lynch's No. 9 Park. Chef Michael Schlow spent the evening regaling participants with tales of his soon-to-be-opened Financial District hot spot, Radius. Channel 56 reporters met up briefly with the tour at Harvey's, although the cameraman's request to reshoot the judges leaving the restaurant and entering limos was met by drunken grumbling. By the end of the night, WFNX DJ Storm had to be carried off by his girlfriend. Up until then he had been calling in to the station on his cell phone to convey "live" broadcasts. Candy Ford, of Ford Model Management, rated drinks not only by taste but also by the attractiveness of those serving them. Mercury Bar's Erick Papachristo was a favorite not only with Candy but with all the ladies. South End socialite Robin Babcock was heard to remark, "Forget the olive, I'll take that in my glass."

Still, this campaign, by Boston ad agency Hill, Holliday, Connors, Cosmopulos, stinks all around. Tomlin's talents are wasted in the sophomoric skits. Lynch's TV shtick reminds us that stockbrokers are overheated salesmen. And Don Rickles's cracking wise when serious people are seriously worried about the market is bad theater and worse timing. Fetch the hook.

Nothing to write home about

Imagine the surprise on Morrissey Boulevard last weekend at being scooped by the New York Times on the news that Boston Globe writer Steve Fainaru was penning a book about Yankees pitcher Orlando Hernandez. Fainaru, who met "El Duque" when he covered Latin America for the Globe, shrugs it off. He says he'd notified his employers and gotten permission to write about the famed Cuban defector, who fled his homeland on a raft last December, landed a $6.6 million baseball contract, starred in the World Series, and, through the intervention of New York's Cardinal John O'Connor, held a post-Series reunion with his family, who were allowed by Castro to visit New York. Guess the Boston boys didn't think it was newsworthy.

Solman's avant-garde

Those missing reporter Paul Solman on PBS's influential news-show-formerly-known-as-MacNeil-Lehrer will be interested to learn that the Brookline resident (formerly known as the Real Paper editor) has taken a six-month leave to go back to school. "After 21 years doing this TV thing, I decided there was a lot I needed to learn," said the author/Neiman fellow/B-school prof, now studying economics and other things at Harvard. And just in case student life revisited proved too easy, Solman took on a project to mount an art exhibit at Mercury Gallery, on Newbury Street, commemorating the 60th anniversary of the "Birth of the American Avant-Garde." In 1938, Solman's father, the painter Joseph Solman, with Mark Rothko and others, gained national prominence as "The Ten" -- artistic and political rebels against the grip then held on the art world by the likes of Thomas Hart Benson and Grant Wood. The project and its catalogue became a painstaking labor of love and detail, resulting in the show's opening December 12.

Native intelligence

For no good reason other than joie de vivre (and the means to indulge it), Deborah and Richard Babson, sibling scions of the family the college is named for (and the latter of whom is president of Babson-United Investment Advisors), recently took about 30 friends on a Sunday-afternoon Duck Tour with a twist. The guests were clad in black tie and gowns and feted at private champagne parties in the Back Bay before and after the tour. Riverboat revelers ("we certainly got a lot of double takes") included master chef Jim Wurtzburger, BankBoston's Bob Gertsen, and Hancock's Deb Garrett. . . .

The New York Times' John Kifner, who still stands in many Bostonians' minds as the best reporter to cover the tumultuous days of desegregation in the 1970s while he was bureau chief here (never mind being the most fun at local bars and house parties thereafter), just won the $25,000 John Chancellor Award for Excellence in Journalism. Kifner, 56, won for 30 years of foreign and domestic reporting at the Times.