Friday, November 21, 2025

Stevie Nicks: The Edge of Octogenarianism

 

Realizing that at 77 the clock was ticking for seeing Stevie Nicks live in concert, Damian and I made a last-minute decision to pay an ungodly amount of money -- the most I've ever spent -- to get good (but not great) seats for her show at the Barclays Center, and I'm here to report we've no regrets. 

To clarify, I've seen Fleetwood Mac twice -- once when Christine McVie was on hiatus and once with the classic line-up. But Stevie wasn't inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame twice for nothing, so getting to see her not share the spotlight three ways was something I've long wanted to do, and we've been kicking ourselves for years since passing on seeing her with Chrissie Hynde supporting because we had recently seen Fleetwood Mac and the Pretenders individually, so decided it wasn't necessary. (Don't get me started on how I felt when I learned Chrissie had filled in for Tom Petty on "Stop Draggin' My Heart Around," for which I'm guessing she merely had to tone down her masculinity a bit for the part.)


Wednesday's show was wonderful, with Stevie looking and sounding incredible for any age. Yes, there are songs I wish she had done ("Sara"!!!) and songs I wish she hadn't bothered with (not one, but two covers?!!!). But the woman is a living legend -- and a living legend who is still on the mend from a fall she suffered in August -- so she can do no wrong. 

Highlights of the evening: "Gypsy," which she doesn't always do on solo tours; a quasi-medley of the title tracks of her first two solo albums ("Bella Donna"/"Wild Heart"); "If Anyone Falls"; and a spirited version of "The Edge of Seventeen," which of course criminally stalled at No. 11 on the Billboard Hot 100 when everyone knows it's a No. 1 smash! The tour continues Monday in Boston with five more cities after that. Go if you can. Painful as it is to acknowledge, we won't have our divas forever, as we were reminded by the choice of Christine's "Got a Hold on Me" as the exiting music. xo

P.S. I've avoided the Barclays Center like the plague -- I didn't move to the greatest city on earth to schlep out to Brooklyn -- but I will admit it's more intimate than its Manhattan peer (MSG), and the concessions and staff were all very civilized. Also, the 2/3 goes express from my apartment and let's out directly in front of the venue, so it could be much worse. (Kings Theatre, anyone?!) 


P.P.S. Just scored some shockingly reasonably priced tickets to see New Pornographers next year. The band is reeling from having its drummer arrested in a very unfortunate situation, but is moving on and releasing new music soon. Info HERE.

Thursday, November 20, 2025

‘Winter’ Wonderland

 

Bryant Park is ready for Christmas ... even if you're not. 

UPDATE:


The Upper West Side is ready, too! 

On the Rag, Vol. 884


This week's rag 'n' mag roundup features Benjamin Verbeck, Brunette Leo, Jaidus, Henry Moodie, Flavio Cobolli, Hollywood's new class of leading men and more BELOW.

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

Remains of the Day (11/19)




Queerty: From showstopper to rock bottom: John Whaite says steroid addiction killed his sex drive and destroyed his body ... but at least he once looked like THIS








The Atlantic: The locker room, once a place for casual and normative nudity, had quietly become a place where modesty was expected. (I posted about this a couple years ago on my Facebook account and it got more comments than anything I've ever written!) 








Hot Cat of the Day: How was your day?

Simply the Best?

 

I’m not sure what a “British weekly listings magazine devoted to television and radio programme schedules,” as Radio Times is described, knows about tennis. But I do know that lists like this exist solely to stir up discontent. Case in point: If you’re going to mix eras -- including Rod Laver -- then John McEnroe absolutely deserves to be above Andy Murray, as would Stefan Edberg, Boris Becker, Mats Wilander and even six-time major winner Carlos Alcaraz. Ivan Lendl probably deserves to be above Andre Agassi, who trails in majors, total titles, year-end championship wins, year-end No. 1 finishes and overall weeks at No. 1. And as much as I respect and adore Bjorn Borg -- whose ability to win the French and Wimbledon back-to-back is unparalleled -- he surely belongs under Pete Sampras. Yes, he retired much sooner. But the list should be based on what a player accomplished, not what they might have, and Pete has three more majors and more than double the number of weeks at No. 1.


And this is the Radio Times women’s list, which I don’t have any strong quibbles with: 


But along the Bjorn lines, Monica Seles should probably also be placed based on what she accomplished -- putting her after Billie Jean King and Margaret Court -- rather than on what we assume she would have achieved had she not been stabbed. (Talk to Little Mo about "would haves.") And calendar Slam winner Margaret belongs ahead of Billie Jean, who has half her majors in singles and trails by six in their head-to-head. (Even if you erase all of Margaret's Aussie Open crowns, she still has more majors than BJK.) And a case could be made for any of the top three to sit at No. 1 -- Serena Williams with the most majors (23), Steffi Graf with just one fewer (having retired a decade younger than Serena) and the only one of the three to win the calendar Grand Slam (with the corresponding Olympic gold medal), most weeks at No. 1 and most year-end No. 1 finishes, and Martina Navratilova for the most combined majors (59), including 18 singles titles despite playing in an era when two of the four Slams weren't routinely contested, plus the most WTA titles (167 to Serena's 73), the most match wins (1,661 to Serena's 858), and more weeks at world No. 1 than Serena. But even as an ardent Steffi/Chrissie Evert fan, this feels about right.

Tuesday, November 18, 2025

TV Party Tonight!

 


In case you need recommendations or want to exchange notes, here are a few things off the top of my head that we’ve been watching lately ...


“The Couple Next Door”: Season 2 is every bit as juicy as the first, and new man Sam Palladio somehow manages to fill Sam Heughan's gigantic shoes. 

“I’m Sorry”: We discovered Andrea Savage on the brilliant “Episodes,” and her move to center stage might be one of the most brilliant things I’ve ever witnessed … we had to constantly rewind because we were laughing so hard we kept missing half the thing! (And Tom Everett Scott is sublime as her straight-man hubby.)

“Platonic”: Season 2 is just as awkwardly hilarious as the first.

“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”: Why didn’t anyone tell me 20 year ago that this is the best show of all time? It’s like a funnier version of "Seinfeld" if the gang had even less character.

“I Love L.A.”: A smart and witty send-up of influencer culture.

“Nobody Wants This”: My solo show that Damian cannot stop eavesdropping on.


“Malice”: Just started, but Jack Whitehall is deliciously evil.

“Shameless”: Ancient, I know, but something I never considered watching until Damian finally gave it a look and now we're into it. Remains to be seen if we'll stick around for all 208 seasons.

“The Studio”: We’ve been slogging our way through this for months. One episode left ... not my fave, but usually just enough to keep it worthwhile-ish.

“New Girl”: We always joked that we’d probably have to watch the seven(!) seasons of this show if a second administration of you-know-who ever happened ... and sadly, it has. Unlike "Baby Daddy" -- Damian’s coping mechanism during the first term, which I later watched and he happily rewatched in full -- "New Girl" is much more uneven. But I like all the actors involved, and Jamie Lee Curtis and Rob Reiner popping up as Zooey Deschanel’s parents is always a treat.

Previously: My 2024 list is HERE.