While the US Men’s Hockey Team squandered their impressive win with embarrassing and shameful locker room behavior (that included laughing at the US Women’s Team while on the phone with felon Trump) the US Women’s Hockey Team proved that they had more grit, sense, and grace in their gold medal win, earning them this Dazzler of the Day crowning. It also merits much fanfare that the US Women’s Hockey Team has won way more medals than the US Men’s Hockey team, and still goes egregiously unheralded in comparison. Here’s to the heroic Women’s Hockey Team, putting the men to shame year after year after year after year…
This year’s Winter Olympics were a badly-needed breath of fresh, inspirational air – a reminder of the best in humanity when basic human decency on a world scale seems precariously in danger of extinction. I’m taking that, along with a visit from friends this past weekend, as a reprieve from the terrible state of the world. On with the weekly recap, Monday-quarterback-style.
Olympic figure skating is like my Super Bowl – perhaps even more-so than the Oscars this year. That said, these Winter Olympics started out rather casually and without the usual pomp and circumstance hat led into previously-hyped games. yet this one turned into one of the most emotionally-tumultuous Olympics, thanks largely in part to all the figure skating drama.
The figure skating dance competition was controversial enough, with the backstory of Guillaume Cizeron (physically naked backstory below for those kind of fans – just keep scrolling down) and his new partner Laurence Fournier Beaudry taking center stage – and that was before the judges robbed Madison Chock and Evan Bates (flawless free skate) of the gold and giving it to Cizeron and Beaudry (flawed free skate).
The media was as awful as the media has become – hyping American athletes to the point where the pressure becomes too much – but the athletes themselves seemed to support each other in the face of all the madness, and the grace and good will of medalists and non-medalists was an affirmation of basic human decency. It was a breath of fresh air in this dark winter.
I’m not sure if it’s the bright lights of the skating arena, or the relatively benign nature of this good-spirited worldly competition compared to the more sinister visions that typically comprise night-time television, but the Winter Olympics always feel like a festive comfort when they roll around every four years.
It’s a time when an athlete’s performance is hopefully heightened, and everything just seems to mean a little more, such as the anticipatory electricity of a dinner party or a visit from distant friends or family. The older I get, the more I find myself seeking out such comfort. Here’s to the next Winter Olympic Games, scheduled for the summer of 2030… (but look for the 2028 Summer Olympics first) and here are this year’s Olympic posts for those who are already feeling nostalgic:
With his record-breaking six gold medal wins at the Winter Olympics, Johannes Hoesflot Klaebo earns the culminating Dazzler of the Day to this year’s Olympic Games. He helped Norway climb to the most gold medals of the entire Winter Olympics, an impressive feat to close out the games as we prepare to recap the glorious event in tonight’s upcoming blog post.
We are lucky that this fruitful collab continues to produce stellar results, such as the one seen here. In calendars and photo shoots that span decades, this synergy has provided inspiration for causes as deep as anti-bullying and impressive as stunning beauty.
I had a bad habit of missing lovers past My brother used to call it ‘eating out of the trash’ It’s never gonna last I thought my house was haunted – I used to live with ghosts And all the perfect couples said, “When you know you know.” And, “When you don’t you don’t.” And all of the foes and all of the friends Have seen it before, they’ll see it again Life is a song, it ends when it ends… I was wrong…
And then this song comes on like another bad habit with the best of intentions, not unlike this blog has been for much of the winter. A little obscure, a little forlorn, a little lacking in patience and compassion. A lot like the world right now. What else is there to do but get lost in a pop song? What else can anyone who is not in Congress actually do to change this country right now? We can dance, we can shout, we can let it all out, but in the end all we have to do is protect ourselves and our loved ones. Do what you can – maybe try to do a little more than you usually would given the unprecedented downfall of our country – and fight the good fight. You know what is right and wrong. You know what feels fishy and false. You see photos and videos and facts before you, even when some Orwellian despot is spewing lies about it right to your face, and the party goes along with it, adding to their riches while we all grow poorer. On some level, you know. If you don’t wish to acknowledge the truth of what is happening, that’s on you. If you’re ok with racism, hatred, violence, and pedophilia, that’s on you. If you can turn a blind eye and say you don’t follow politics and you wish people didn’t post about it, that’s on you.
…But my Mama told me It’s all right, you were dancing through the lightning strikes Sleepless in the onyx night, but now the sky is opalite Oh my Lord never made no one like you before You had to make your own sunshine But now the sky is opalite
Wrapping such an upsetting world in a gauzy song of escapism may be its own form of rebellion, albeit it a rather minor and inconsequential one. A four-minute pop song was never going to save the world. Relying on someone else to do it won’t save the world either. And remaining quiet about it because you don’t want to upset anyone, well that actively works to ruin the world at a time when voices matter.
You couldn’t understand it – why you felt alone You were in it for real, she was in her phone, and you were just a pose And don’t we try to love love? We give it all we got You finally left the table, and what a simple thought You’re starving ’til you’re not. And all of the foes and all of the friends Have messed up before, they’ll mess up again Life is a song, it ends when it ends You move on…
How dare I take a harmless Taylor Swift song and turn it into some click-bait diatribe about speaking out about the current state of affairs in this country? Maybe because Taylor isn’t saying much after robbing the world blind with a bazillion different versions of her latest album. Maybe because no one is taking this disastrous administration as seriously as they should because they seem too stupid to be so dangerous. Maybe because I’ve predicted all that’s happened these past few months way back when everyone didn’t feel comfortable enough voting for a woman the first time around. And the second time. Maybe because it’s all too late now and none of this will even matter.
…And that’s when I told you It’s all right, you were dancing through the lightning strikes Sleepless in the onyx night, but now the sky is opalite Oh my Lord never made no one like you before You had to make your own sunshine But now the sky is opalite
Dancing through the lightning strikes like those musicians playing their final song as the Titanic sank beneath them. To die as one lived. Nobility is one fine line away from stupidity, and stupidity is mere moments from lucidity. I’m too tired to even look up ‘cupidity’ so make it all make sense. (Ok, I looked it up – it means greed for money and possessions. Guilty as hell.)
Oh winter, release your stifling hold already. How much more are we expected to take? You have given us nothing this year – not even the briefest of thaws. While a thaw has always wreaked more havoc than peace, I’d gleefully take that over this ridiculous nonsense any time. And the song plays on as we cross the bridge…
This is just a storm inside a teacup But shelter here with me, my love Thunder like a drum – this life will beat you up, up, up, up This is just a temporary speed bump But failure brings you freedom And I can bring you love, love, love, love… Don’t you sweat it baby
There it is – sweet release in a saccharine chorus, if saccharine is even a thing anymore. This winter has me feeling all sorts of outdated and out of sorts – no more sorts to give, I guess. An experiment ending in dismal and total failure. Nothing to salvage, nothing to save, nothing to remotely begin the assembly of something to be learned. Only word games and plays on words – a rope of words if you will, Miss Desmond, and we all know she won’t because it strangled her business of being a star – silent, iconic, shrouded in mystery, the blank space of being whatever you wanted her to be.
It’s all right, you were dancing through the lightning strikes Sleepless in the onyx night, but now the sky is opalite Oh my Lord never made no one like you before You had to make your own sunshine But now the sky is opalite
Missy was one of the first friends-of-a-friend that I met through Suzie – and as such one of the friends whom I’ve known the longest after Suzie. I still remember traipsing through the attic in the Ko’s grand Victorian home as Missy was over for one holiday or birthday that found us there. By 1989, we’d survived all of Suzie’s birthday parties together and were in most of the same classes. The three of us, along with Suzie’s mom, my Mom, and my brother – were taking a trip to New York to see a Broadway show.
The winter of our 8th grade year found us all of thirteen years old, and as we sat down to a performance of ‘Jerome Robbins’ Broadway’ starring some actor named Jason Alexander, I felt like one of the coolest kids in the world, in the way that only a couple of really good friends who truly appreciate your company can make you feel. On the cusp of young adulthood, we were still kids at heart, and at one point of participatory audience clapping, I remember losing myself in uncontrollable laughter – the joyous mirth of life that would be a happy hallmark of my friendship with Missy.
Now, all these years later, I remembered that NY weekend. As we sat down in the Citizen Opera house to see ‘Some Like It Hot’ with her two sons, the youngest of whom was just about the same age as we were when we saw that Broadway show some 37 years ago, and the lights went down, I recalled and marveled with gratitude that our friendship had survived, that we were still in each others’ lives, that some things could last in this ever-uncertain world.
When my lifelong friend Missy asked if I wanted to join her and her two sons – Julian and Cameron – for a performance of ‘Some Like It Hot’ on the week she was touring schools in Boston, I eagerly jumped at the chance. I didn’t realize until later that this would be a full-circle moment, one that would bring us all the way back to the winter of 1989 in New York City… but I’m jumping ahead, and when I arrived in Boston on an early Thursday afternoon, our only goal was making it to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.
For the first Thursday evening of every month, the Gardner Museum usually offers free tickets for entry if you reserve in advance, where there is music and merriment much in the tradition that Ms. Gardner herself would have enjoyed. It’s a lovely feature I usually don’t partake of since my typical arrivals happen on Fridays. When tickets came online I reserved four for us, and after a quick reunion at their hotel we were soon on our way to the museum for our slotted entry time. Dusk had descended, and the enchantment of being in a place I’d only ever visited during the day made it feel more intimate and private, as if Gardner herself had invited us to a clandestine rendezvous in her gloriously scandalous form.
The central garden courtyard glowed softly and music was about to fill the air, the way it did when the museum’s namesake threw her parties and gatherings. The effect that night had on the museum was magical – even with the music it was somehow more hushed and reverent in the most exquisite manner, the religious elements giving off a vibe of veneration I’d not accessed or experienced during the day. Life was a mystery, after all. Upon retirement, I plan to become a full-fledged member of the museum and make regular visits to such a calming and inspirational space, especially on cold winter nights.
We got a car back to the condo as it was too cold to walk even to the nearby T stop, and we returned to the cozy home still decked out in holiday splendor because I hadn’t been back since December. A make-do dinner of fried rice, charcuterie, French fries and fried chicken nuggets constructed our plates of comfort food. While the kids hung out in the bedroom, their voices and laughter carrying merrily through the place, Missy and I caught up looking out over Braddock Park. The dream vision of a retired life with visits from friends in Boston opened itself up to the realm of possibility as I simultaneously felt the rush of time, and how it wasn’t going to wait or slow for anyone or anything. As the night closed around us, I also felt the importance and sustenance of good friends – for getting through the winter, and walking through life together.
The next day, after Missy and the kids toured another college, we headed to Faneuil Hall for dinner, before returning to the hotel to watch the opening of the Winter Olympics (my request). As we enter and adjust to our 50’s, this was the extent of our exertions for a Friday night – it was all that we needed, and all that we wanted.
For our final day in Boston, Saturday dawned with an unexpected snowfall that arrived right before we set out for pre-show brunch – the wild environs of a Boston winter unleashing their unpredictable charms for our visitors. Large, fluffy snowflakes – lots of them – fell as we sat down to a brunch spot right by the theater, and a snowy winter day in 8th grade tugged at my memory strings…
The occasional cube of tofu, the swirling rings of scallions, and the almost-black jagged clouds of seaweed floating through the broth comprise a bowl that perfectly represents a minimalist stroke of culinary economy – where less is more and the notion of absence as elegance imparts impressive and beautiful restraint.
Winter’s enchantments are often hidden in plain stripped-down sight, but only for those who take the time to slow down and examine – both what is at hand, and what is at heart.
Bringing a joy and infectiously-giddy spirit to her Olympic journey, Alysa Liu has already been a Dazzler of the Day here – this is just to spotlight her current Olympic performance, in which she takes a classic Donna Summer hit and turns the world into her shimmering disco ball. This comeback season has been based on her unshakably relaxed and mindful manner of accepting whatever happens on the ice without it being a life or death situation for her. That’s the magic key to so much of life, and she’s found it just in time for these Olympic Games. Shake it for the gold!
He’s already been a Dazzler of the Day here, but Jordan Stolz is coming into his next chapter with a spectacular Olympics performance – as of this writing he’s already won two gold medals for the United States and today he races for another. As we careen toward the end of this Olympic Games, I’m already pining for it to begin all over again.
Vivaldi’s ‘Winter’ movement gets a so-called ‘epic’ treatment, lending an already-dramatic musical selection even more tension and wonder. In this dizzying winter season, where the obscure has failed to resolve itself into any sort of focus, and the haze grows even more fuzzy, I’m reconciling myself to the imperfect way life has of stumbling along, especially at those times when we most want things to run smoothly.
Like days filled with the fullness of the moon, or periods when Mercury is in retrograde motion, this winter has proven challenging, and fighting such challenges is futile. When you learn to let go and lean into where the world is taking you, no matter how strange and unfamiliar, surprising things might result. There is an important distinction between giving up and giving in – good and bad points to each. While the rest of the world seems to have lost sight of nuance and subtlety, those graces are integral to making a happier way through life.
Winter waits for no one; it hurries for even less.
Six-time Olympian Elana Meyers Taylor just earned the gold in a lifelong quest for that elusive and precious medal. The grit, determination, and focus required to make it to that many Olympic Games is astounding – really unimaginable for mere mortals like myself. All I can do is marvel and cheer Taylor on as she puts her bobsledding legacy into the record books. This Dazzler of the Day honor is the very least of her laurels.
