Impressions count for a lot in this city, but not all attempts to impress come off as expected. Governor Pataki and Mayor Bloomberg tried to seduce State Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver into supporting their bid for a West Side stadium, announcing $800 million worth of projects for his district in lower Manhattan—including cobblestone streets around the Stock Exchange. Silver, though, was unmoved by the gesture. “It has nothing to do with his plea to spur job development,” said his spokesman. A man piloting a small plane tried to impress his girlfriend by flying over her house, but he ended up crashing onto the beach at Coney Island, killing himself and three tourists aboard. Sean “P. Diddy” Combs and his posse made a rather poor impression at Level V in the meatpacking district by rushing the door when the club’s doorman didn’t let them in fast enough; reportedly, the lot of them were forcibly ejected. “White Wedding” rocker Billy Idol gave a comeback show at the Beacon Theater, stripping off his shirt to show fans that, while decades of debauchery may have lined his visage, his chest is still as fetching as it was in the eighties. Harry Shearer may or may not have endeared himself to Barbara Walters by dedicating his song “82 Facelifts” to her at the Cutting Room. The thousands of seaman here for Fleet Week cut a dash in their crisp white uniforms and did not fail to be impressed by their environs. “I’ve never seen anything like the buildings here—they just go on forever!” one Marine exclaimed. Simon Doonan declared that women “smell good. They look pretty. I love women. I do.” Oh, wait—that was Tom Cruise. And Spamalot director Mike Nichols left Tony voters nonplussed in the run-up to the awards by announcing, “I miss failure.” If the week had a moral, it might well have been that the best way of making a good impression is to maintain a demure silence. People will think you are intelligent. And don’t open your mouth, lest you spoil the effect.