Monthly Archives:

July 2013

The Madonna Timeline: Song #96 – ‘I Don’t Give A…’ – Summer 2012

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

While it’s one of the weaker cuts on the otherwise-brilliant ‘MDNA’ album (Review #1 and #2), ‘I Don’t Give A…’ is also one of Madonna’s most defiant fuck-off songs to date, brutally referencing her role as ex-wife and single mother, along with all the other things that go into making Madonna the icon she is.

Wake up ex-wife, this is your life
Children on your own, planning on the telephone
Messengers, manager, no time for a manicure
Working out, shake my ass, I know how to multi-task…

In an exhausting list of all that comprises her life, she ticks off the mundane and the meaningful, and after thirty-plus years of doing this – and doing it her way – you have to give her credit. The song speaks to defiance and courage, doing what you’re going to do no matter what, no matter how many people tell you not to do it, and following your heart in spite of a world of doubters and naysayers. I know that feeling – we all do on some level – but only a few of us fight through to the end, to find justice and the realization that we were right all along.

I tried to be a good girl, I tried to be your wife
Diminished myself, and I swallowed my light
I tried to become all that you expect of me
And if it was a failure, I don’t give a…

The song itself borders on a bit of a rap. Whenever Madonna goes rap-lite, it’s a crap shoot. It can work brilliantly (‘Vogue’ or ‘Mother and Father’) or it can go down dismally (‘American Life’). This is somewhere between the two, but she doesn’t embarrass herself, even when chased by Nicki Minaj (who gets the epic final line).

Drawbacks aside, check out the phenomenal finale to this song. There are no words (literally) as the music builds to its climax. It was most effectively staged in the MDNA Tour when, after chucking her guitar and disappearing for a moment, she rises atop a single platform. A red cross glows above her, and as the music builds, she goes higher and higher, prone but defiant, down but going up, and in the end she smashes it all to bits, along with all the judgment and stifling preconceptions that have dogged her over the years.

I’m gonna be okay, I don’t care what the people say
I’m gonna be all right, gonna live fast and I’m gonna live right.

There’s only one queen, and that’s Madonna, bitch. 
Song #96 – ‘I Don’t Give A…’ – Summer 2012
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Anniversary Dinner

This evening we’ll be having dinner at one of our favorite restaurants anywhere in the world: Five-O. Despite the rain, we are determined to have a good time. (The rain is actually fitting, as it rained all day before the evening we met back in 2000.) Rain is lucky – for weddings, and anniversaries.

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The Maine Event ~ Summer

This marks the first time that Andy and I are spending our anniversary in Ogunquit, and we couldn’t be happier about it. To spend this special day in such a special place is a very good thing – some might say it’s the way life should be. Who are we to argue?

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Our 13th Anniversary

The best part of having an anniversary in the year 2000 is automatically having an easy count of how many years it’s been. For Andy and myself, this marks our thirteenth. The lucky one. (Where’s the bar mitzvah?) According to Madonna’s version of the Kaballah, thirteen is the age when the soul solidifies into what it’s going to be. In other words, by thirteen, the die is cast. I think we take comfort in that. A lot has happened in thirteen years, but my one constant has been Andy. He doesn’t get a lot of the glory that he deserves (and shies away from the camera and self-exultation or he’d be featured a lot more here), but my life would not be the same without him, and I can’t imagine it any other way. Happy Anniversary, Drew!

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A Leaf to Rival A Flower

Behold, the foliage of Caladium. In a spot softly shaded by a weeping cherry, in the space that formerly housed a Japanese umbrella pine, this plant throws its brightly-colored hearts up from the ground. This marks the first time I’ve ever grown a caladium, and I don’t know why it’s taken so long to come round to their charms. (Well I think I do: I blame the mass plantings I saw in places like Disneyworld that turned me so off of annuals and the like. No matter how pretty the object, seeing it overused en masse is nothing but a turn-off.)

Yet on its own, and properly cared for and presented, this is a plant worthy of wonder and inspection. Each leaf is different, each holds its own subtle artistic variations. As if every one was painted by a different hand. The colors are the same, the order of the palette is uniform, yet every one manages to be its own unique pattern. Nature doesn’t like to repeat herself, and I take my cues from her.

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Naked Male Photos

What else is the internet for but to find naked men in gratuitous poses like this? Wikipedia my ass. Their asses, too.

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In the Flash of an Instagram

Just in case you needed further incentive to follow me on Instagram, here’s a spattering of photos that are from that account. So much of the good stuff these days is fleeting and quick, gone in an instant like some ephemeral bit of Tom Ford on a breeze. My Instagram account is a lot like that, made up of little pieces of wreckage, the flotsam and jetsam that float through my daily life, but if you wait long enough there’s occasionally a gem that is just waiting to be excavated.

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Sunday Omelette by Andy

For someone who doesn’t eat or like breakfast all that much, Andy sure knows how to cook up a decent omelette. On decadent days he renders the grease from some bacon for the process, but for summer that’s a little too much stove-top action. On these days we go a little lighter, with some fresh herbs from the garden.

This is the first year where I’ve consciously planted a number of herbs for our culinary preparations, and it has certainly paid off. A collection of dill, flat-leaf parsley, and basil comprises the addendum to this omelette. (A garnish of curly parsley centers the dish.)

With a small sliced tomato and a couple of toast points, breakfast is served.

PS – How obnoxious is the term ‘toast points’? I think very, which I why I won’t stop using it.

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The OriGin

The juniper berry.

In the immortal words of the Countess, “Get me a bromide! And put some gin in it!”

 

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Love the Flower, Hate the Form

With a common-name like LadyBells one might think that I would adore this plant unconditionally. As it is, I have a few major conditions, and because of them I find it hard to love this Adenophora through and through. The flower is exquisite, with an elusive shade that almost borders on the blue. Not many flowers come that close, so those that do are highly prized. (Some contend there are no true blue flowers; I’m not that quick to be so definite, but I do know it’s a rare hue.)

My problem, therefore, is not with the flower, but with the form of the plant. Its style is too loner-like for my taste. I like my plants in mounds or mats, with groups of stems that combine to create an overall impression. The single and solitary nature of Adenophora goes against that. From a design standpoint, I know the power and importance of vertical aspects like this – my issue is a personal preference I cannot get over. The one small patch I have going in the side garden – brought in by accident with another perennial – has actually expanded into a mat of sorts, but the results, as seen here, still bother me. Again, some people adore the effect, and I do admit that when grounded by ferns or hosta it works – I just can’t bring myself to love it. Sorry, lady.

 

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My Longest Vacation in A Decade and a Half

I haven’t taken a week-long vacation since 1997. Literally. I’m one of those who would rather take two or three longer weekend jaunts in the place of one week away. It’s more interesting that way, and I never get sick of where I am. This year, however, the fates have conspired to have a friend’s wedding in Maine, and our own anniversary a few days later, coincide for one full week of vacation in the state that is ‘The Way Life Should Be’. We’ll begin in Portland today, and finish up in Ogunquit next week.

That means my co-workers, and the great city of Albany, will have a full week’s reprieve from the anal-retentive prissiness and fun that I bring to every party. Unfortunately for Maine, it comes with me.

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K.I.T.

The photos here have been procured from my Instagram account. I usually write pretty timely posts – what I had for dinner tonight is often the post for the next day. Yet while I’m vacation (for the next week) I have had to pre-program the posts you see here, because I refuse to work on this website while traveling. That said, I’m still available and updating things on FaceBook and Twitter and Instagram, so if you want to keep abreast of me in real time, friend or follow me on one of those platforms. (I also tend to be decidedly less guarded and worried about perfection on those social media sites, which ends up being bad for me but more interesting for the casual observer). In the meantime, you’ll still find updates here, but of the planned-ahead sort (which can often be more juicy… as you’ll see).

PS – Andy pops up a lot more in those other places too, for those who continue to doubt his existence (as do peeks into my cologne collection).

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To The Lighthouse

In the words of Virginia Woolf:

“It was his fate, his peculiarity, whether he wished it or not, to come out thus on a spit of land which the sea is slowly eating away, and there to stand, like a desolate sea-bird, alone. It was his power, his gift, suddenly to shed all superfluities, to shrink and diminish so that he looked barer and felt sparer, even physically, yet lost none of his intensity of mind, and so to stand on his little ledge facing the dark of human ignorance, how we know nothing and the sea eats away the ground we stand on – that was his fate, his gift.”

“Did Nature supplement what man advanced? Did she complete what he began? With equal complacence she saw his misery, his meanness, and his torture. That dream, of sharing, completing, of finding in solitude on the beach an answer, was then but a reflection in a mirror, and the mirror itself was but the surface glassiness which forms in quiescence when the nobler powers sleep beneath? Impatient, despairing yet loth to go (for beauty offers her lures, has her consolations), to pace the beach was impossible; contemplation was unendurable; the mirror was broken.”

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Lemon Accents

Having gotten more comfortable with a simple vinaigrette (a lot of whisking goes a long way), I tried my hand at this easy salad recipe, utilizing a base of baby greens and thinly-sliced fennel, topped with a few slices of avocado. It’s the perfect choice to pair with a chicken or fish dish that utilizes lemon in some other fashion. To halt the avocado from turning brown once it’s sliced, rub with an extra lemon wedge – the acidic juice will prevent it from going brown (the same trick that is used for apples).

As for the dressing, this was a very good one – filled with flavor from the zest and the garlic, and given a different twist by the miracle elixir that is White Balsamic vinegar. I’ve seen it recommended to add the olive oil in a slow steady stream while whisking furiously. I’m not that coordinated, so I end up with everything added at one time, but the addition of the mustard starts the mixing process, and if you use enough arm action it should come together nicely. (Keep your sexual innuendoes out of my salad-preparation, please.)

Lemon Dijon Vinaigrette

– 2 Tbsp. lemon juice

– 1 tsp. lemon zest

– 2 Tbsp. white balsamic vinegar

– 1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard

– 6 Tbsp. olive oil

– 1 clove garlic (pressed through garlic press)

– Salt & pepper to taste

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