I can hardly believe anyone would bother to write this story but they did and now I can't unread it. So you have to suffer too:
The band began playing at 8:30 sharp—the exact call time for the evening’s gig—a punctiliousness perhaps less rock ‘n’ roll cool than cable-news precise. Its front man, after all, was Joe Scarborough, the 53-year-old host of MSNBC’s Morning Joe, and the band, naturally, goes by the name Morning Joe Music. The players—a group of talented, scruffy-looking guys in jeans—formed a constellation around Scarborough not unlike Willie Geist, Mike Barnicle, and Donny Deutsch do on-air every morning. They all had something to add, but mostly, they existed to orbit Scarborough, who has arguably become the most influential Republican in America during this election season. Scarborough, who has known Donald Trump for years, was among the first in the media to presage his mind-boggling rise—and one of the most consequential conservatives to rebuke him. But this evening was not intended as political theater. A few minutes after 8:30, a wall of sound filled the room: two backup singers ooh-ed and ahh-ed, two horn players blared high notes in harmony, and a keyboardist who sounded faintly like Rufus Wainwright all backed up Scarborough on the vocals of a song he had written himself.
Mika Brzezinski, Scarborough’s morning show co-host, was perched on the edge of her seat in a booth just offstage, toggling an iPhone, a Chanel shopper, and a drinks menu as she sang along to every word of the song and waved her fists to the beat. She ordered a bottle of wine for the table and texted friends in order to get them to stop by. She was, all at once, an inspiring combination of groupie, hostess, and dutiful colleague. And maybe a little rock star, too, in jeans and black sunglasses resting atop her white-blonde hair.
Brzezinski, who is 49, was joined in the booth by her brother and sister-in-law and niece. The big, boisterous Morning Joe family often show up to Scarborough’s gigs, too, but it was deep summer and neither Geist nor Barnicle were there. The room was still star-studded. Deutsch made an appearance. André Leon Talley, the fashion eminence and Vogue contributing editor, sat beside Brzezinski in a burnt-orange custom Tom Ford caftan of sorts. The real show, however, was onstage. When the saxophonist broke into a solo, Scarborough got on bended knee, candy-red guitar resting on his khakis, and tipped his head in reverence, perhaps an allusion to Springsteen nodding at Big Man during the E Street Band’s glory days.
The song ended, and Scarborough once again grabbed the microphone. “Now this is a special night,” he told the audience. “The band, we’ve been together since, what? 1947?” The “aren’t we so old?” age joke played well with the crowd. Scarborough knows his demo. “But tonight’s our big break because we have a star here, and her name is Mika Brzezinski.”
