He felt the need… the need for speed, and Jordan Stolz took that need and turned it into a number of medals and record-breaking speed skates this past week. At just 19 years old, he niftily earns his first Dazzler of the Day for busting through the American record for the 1000m speed skate. Watch him fly, if you can.
One day we are going to have a talk about peeing in the ocean. All is takes is one brave soul and then I’m certain the floodgates will open.
The good news: it’s late January, and we are almost finished with the first full month of winter, meaning we’re over a third of the way through the messy season. The bad news: there’s two-thirds of it yet to come. Thus far it’s been relatively calm in this mid-upstate-New-York area, and I’m grateful for the gentle way we are navigating these months. On with the weekly recap… (fronted by Brock Grady)…
We tried to bring the heat with these pretty, shirtless gentlemen.
Baggy jeans to see us through the winter padding.
Mystery tracks in the snow.
Once in a while, Barbra Streisand truly speaks to me.
When you feel like a failure, put on the Fucking Fabulous.
The Selfish showdown between Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears.
Dazzlers of the Day included Robbie Manson, Colman Domingo, Brock Grady, R. K. Russell, and Jack Plotnick.
People seem to have to pick a side these days, when everything is a binary choice in a world that was never meant to be about binary choices. Case in point is Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears. It feels like you have to be #TeamBritney or #TeamJustin with nary the room to be a fan of both. I’m not falling victim to making that choice, especially as neither has impressed me for years, but there were many former moments of love for both.
That said, I do love a bit of pop-star trolling, and watching the Brit Stans succeed in pushing her 13-year-old track ‘Selfish’ from the ‘Femme Fatale’ album above Timberlake’s own ‘Selfish’ attempt at a sort of comeback is as amusing as it is enlightening for me (never heard the track, as that’s about the time I started tuning her out – not from ill-will, just from other interests supplanting that brand of dance-pop). So here is her version of ‘Selfish’ from all those years ago.
When pop titans fight for their musical relevance, it’s always a sight to see, and the aural explosions are designed to devastate. As for Justin’s ‘Selfish’, it percolates along at a pleasant pace, but it’s not a banger like former glories such as ‘SexyBack‘. Perhaps he’s banking on this having longer legs and insinuating itself in our heads as an amuse bouche in preparation for when the full album arrives.
Jack Plotnick has been dazzling me for years, from his hysterical show-stopping performance in ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ to a tender turn in the beautiful drama ‘Gods and Monsters‘ with Ian McKellen. His website offers a more comprehensive view of an impressive career in the business of show, and more than earns him this honor of Dazzler of the Day.
Jack has built a career as an award-winning actor, director and performance coach. He has performed in countless TV shows, commercials and feature films (137 credits on IMDB). You most likely will recognize Jack from his series regular and recurring roles on Grace and Frankie, Z Nation, The Mentalist, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Reno 911, Action, Ellen, and Drawn Together, and his appearance in the films Meet the Fockers, Down With Love, Rubber, Wrong, and Gods and Monsters.
Jack co-wrote and directed the Sony Pictures feature film, Space Station 76, starring Patrick Wilson, Liv Tyler and Matt Bomer. He also co-wrote and directed the Broadway musical, Disaster!, to rave reviews (New York Times CRITICS’ PICK!)
Jack produced, directed and acted on the Lifetime Television comedy series Lovespring International. And he executive produced and starred in the feature film (and cult hit!) Girls Will Be Girls. (From JackPlotnick.com.)
The last weekend of January has arrived. Limping through it, I admit I’m a bit tired, and having difficulty finding motivation and inspiration to be excited over much. I’ve found myself going through the motions rather than being present and mindful – never a good thing, but understandable at this early point in winter.
To make a small motion to turn things around, or gently feel the whispers of happiness and excitement, if only that means being open to the smallest glimpse of beauty in a day, I listen to a classic Madonna track or two (the exuberant ‘Open Your Heart‘ or the rollicking ‘Ray of Light‘), I clutch a bottle of Tom Ford’s ‘Fucking Fabulous’ before spraying some of that exquisite Private Blend onto my skin, and I go back out into the world, no matter the mood or weather. The day can be what you make it. Sometimes.
A crescent moon winks at the dawn of dusk, if you can make much sense of that. It doesn’t come across clearly in these amateurish photos I attempted to take, but the idea is there, and during the winter an idea sometimes has to be enough. The idea that something could be cradled in the curve of a crescent moon is merely that – an idea. There is no empty space there – it’s filled with moon. We just can’t see it. Somewhere there’s an allegory to an iceberg in this, but it’s cold to delve into, and I’m not interested in following that path right now.
It’s Saturday night, I guess that makes it all right. (And anything is better than a full moon.)
“Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.” ~ Virginia Woolf
Flowers hit differently in the winter. Scarce and more precious, they are held closer to the heart. Summer makes them superfluous, such abundance robbing us of perspective and perhaps appreciation. But in the midst of January, how grateful we must be for them to be nestled in a vase, lending beauty and fragrance to the barren snow-riddled days.
“The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice.” ~ Virginia Woolf
There is something soul-sustaining about seeing a bouquet of flowers in the middle of winter. It makes the heart a little gladder, and the trudge through this awful weather a little easier to bear. The fragrance of roses and stock also feeds the spirit.
“Until we can comprehend the beguiling beauty of a single flower, we are woefully unable to grasp the meaning and potential of life itself.” ~ Virginia Woolf
Like many days since my Dad died, I spent the last few weeks in a bit of a haze, dazedly going about life’s daily routine on a sort of auto-pilot. After 48 years of living, sometimes you coast like that. It’s not my favored status. I’m not one for phoning things in (and not just because I hate talking in the phone). If I’m not wholly invested in something, I usually don’t do it. That’s not always possible with a job and mortgage and the basic responsibility of surviving.
And so I daze off, lost in a kind of soft focus, not totally or completely present. I can’t tell if anyone notices, and I’m not sure if that’s because I don’t want to know. The power of wishful thinking is a real thing. Rather than go too hard on myself, I’m accepting this, and waiting until I feel the stir of motivation. If it doesn’t come, it doesn’t come. The big chill is a real middle-aged issue, and there are good and bad things that come from it. A certain dulling and deadness to the world as it now stands isn’t entirely unwelcome.
Andy had seen a fox in the backyard, spending a meaningful moment with it as it sat on the patio surrounding itself with its furry tail. Paths in the snow revealed a series of visits throughout our backyard, mostly nocturnal, and not only of foxes. Squirrels and rabbits make regular visits, often during the day. But the fox holds a special place in my heart, having been a totem animal for me at various times. (And ‘Foxy Lady’ is the song that Andy assigned to me when we first met, because there are no accidents in the universe.)
Our front yard provides easier access for a wider variety of animals – everything from pheasants (our street’s namesake) to turkeys to deer – and whatever these paw prints might be. A neighbor’s cat, perhaps, or maybe something more interesting. Regardless, the mystery of visitors in the night remains to be solved, and I’m content if it stays a mystery, lost to the wilds of the weather. Footprints in the snow won’t last forever.
I love a Dazzler of the Day who has so many accomplishments that they’ve already been encapsulated on another website, which is the case with today’s Dazzler R. K. Russell. As they used to say on ‘Reading Rainbow‘, you don’t have to take my word for it. The following is from Russell’s website here:
R. K. Russell is a former NFL football player, a social justice advocate, published poet, essayist, and artist. In August of 2019, Russell made history by becoming the first out active NFL player to identify as bisexual. A decorated defensive end who has played for the Dallas Cowboys and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, he has sacked Hall of Famers and gone up against the fiercest competitors at the height of their game.
Since coming out, he has written about his experience as a Black queer man in sports for The New York Times, The Guardian, The Los Angeles Times, Out Magazine, and Queer Majority, among others. Russell has been advocating for the LGBTQ+ community in professional sports, spearheading multiple NFL Pride initiatives such as the NFL Pride panel and the NFL’s National Coming Out Day PSA. He has been honored by the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) by GAY TIMES (U.K.) as Sportsperson of the Year, and he was selected to the prestigious OUT 100 List in 2019. His short documentary, Finding Free, was nominated for best short documentary at the 43rd Annual Sports Emmys and won awards at the 2022 Webby Awards, the 60th New York Film Festival, and the 43rd Annual Telly Awards. His new memoir, The Yards Between Us, is available everywhere books are sold. He lives in Los Angeles.
Every year around this time the plant and seed catalogs start arriving like lifesavers, thrown out from the garden-planning gods to those of us struggling through winter, no matter how benign or nasty. Mom recently received the Burpee’s catalog, but since she gets most of her seeds locally, she let me take it and peruse the colorful photos and pages. I’m not big on seeds – our short growing season in Zone 4/5/6a allows for limited options, particularly regarding vegetables and fruit – so if I’m doing any of that I simply go out and purchase starter plants which have already been hardened off. Saves time and effort (and an elaborate seed-starting set-up), and worth the extra bit of money. It also allows for a more precise number of plants – with seeds I tend to either get feast or famine, with hundreds of seedlings or none at all.
These catalogs, coming as they do when many of us are garden-hungry (well, starving), are mostly just inspirational guides for me. Occasionally, for more rare plants, I will order a seed packet and try it out, but I’ve had much success. I only bother with direct sowing anyway, and maybe that’s my problem. My Mom can work wonders with seeds, as could my Dad when he was alive. Perhaps this year I will learn some patience and try again.
