THIS WEEK
WATCH: All the inauguration events (BYO pearls and champagne), which include a Howard University marching band and the TikTok “Dreams” skateboarder guy. Former (or current!) goths may appreciate this video from 1989 Dublin. Can we nominate DakhaBrakha as honorary TueNighters?
READ: The 10 best political books of 2020 by Black women, including Alicia Garza’s The Purpose of Power. Molly Jong-Fast on shedding tears of joy when her parents got the vaccine. My breast reduction finally made me feel at home in my body. Living the van life, before it was a hashtag. A heartwarming poem and story about the joy of helping strangers.
LISTEN: The Buzzcocks’ new box set of all their singles – on vinyl. What songs would you add to the Biden-Harris Inauguration playlist? Our first thought is The Specials’ “Dawning of a New Era.” Drop some links in the comments?
CELEBRATE: Revel in Betty White’s 99th birthday – or, we suppose, Valentine’s Day – by sending someone a dozen red Roses. TueNighter Deesha Philyaw’s book is going to be adapted for an HBO series! Happy 75th birthday, Dolly Parton.
(Image: Olivier Douliery/Getty)
OBSESSED: Rewriting Song Lyrics
An ode to menopause, to the tune of Simon and Grafunkel’s “The Sounds of Silence”:
Hello night sweats, my old friend
You’ve come to ambush me again
‘Pausal heat wave softly creeping
Left me soaked while I was sleeping
And the feeling that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the heat of hot flash.
In restless dreams I sweat alone
Bone dry streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a ring light
I thrash my sheets, which become cold and damp
When my ‘pits were stabbed by the flash of hormonal light
That split the night
And sent the heat of hot flash.
And in the naked light, I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without sweating,
People hearing without dripping,
People living lives, without hormonal flares
And no one dares
Disturb the heat of hot flash.
Fools, said I, you do not know
‘Pit stains like a cancer grow
Hear my rage that I might teach you
Take my meds that I might reach you
But my sweat, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the heat of hot flash.
And the people bowed and prayed
To the youthful gods they made
And my face radiated its warning
With the sweat drips that were forming
And the sign said age is just a number is written on the restroom walls
And on Zoom calls
And whispered
In the heat of hot flash.
— Margaret Crandall
STORY: My Husband’s Manic Break Left Me Running for My Life
By Abby West
“With only sixth months to train, and at more than 60 pounds overweight, I decided to run a half marathon. On my own. I had no money for a trainer and barely money for new sneakers. It was a low-cost exercise plan that had the added benefit of feeling like proof to myself that I had the strength and fortitude for this next chapter of my life. The very idea that life is a marathon, not a race, kept me sane and able to attack each problem in manageable bites. And I can’t discount the effectiveness of the adrenaline rush once I did achieve long runs.”
(Psst: Want to write for us? Pitch us here!)
TueNight 10: Jenny Seymour
(Jenny striking a pose for her favorite photographer, Christi of Grinkie Photography, LLC.)
When she's not optimizing websites and mobile apps, Minnesota-based Jenny Seymour enjoys singing showtunes, co-hosting Hamiltunes events, and doing pin-up photo shoots. She’s planning her third shoot this summer – with her husband and a vintage propeller plane.
Get your champagne ready, TueNighters!