After years of bringing a bit of character the skyline near Ikea, it appears the SS United States is finally running out of time. AP reports: “The 990-foot-long ship could be sold for scrap within two months unless the grass-roots preservation group that’s working to secure a home and purpose for it can raise $500,000 immediately, the group told The Associated Press. Talks are under way with developers and investors about the ship’s long-term future, but without the emergency funding, its caretakers fear they will run out of money before a deal is inked.” It’s a sad end for a big, noble ship, but it’s probably better than to leave her rusting in the water for perpetuity.
Why not? CBS 3 reports: “High end fashion house Dolce & Gabbana claims they’ve bottled the sweet smell of an infant in its new fragrance “per I bambini” which means “for the children” in Italian and is said to be inspired by the smell of baby’s breath. Patricia Dalton of Monell Chemical Senses Center in Philadelphia says like other baby products, the new perfume probably won’t have alcohol or the harsh chemicals found in adult fragrances. “Putting fragrances on babies is not really new. What’s new about this is that there’s no other function except to fragrance the baby,”
In our experience, babies already have intense smells that come with them—either that powdery freshness that only babies have, even when they haven’t been powdered in awhile—or like poop. Lots and lots of angry, angry poop. So the perfume should be nicer than that at least.
Haddonfield Child Care, a New Jersey after-school program for elementary school kids, booked local drag outfit Martha Graham Cracker Cabaret, to add a “little variety” to an upcoming Dr. Seuss Tribute. Then, mysteriously, a few “powers-that-be” types put the kibosh on the whole thing. Because they’re a drag band? Because Martha is gay? Because…why? Head on over to G Philly to read m ore about the strange reversal. (And brewing blogo-twitter-war?) [Disclosure: Martha Graham Cracker's Cabaret's band leader, who features prominently in the hubbub, is a reporter for the Philly Post.] [G Philly]
Remember yesterday when we were all stunned and moved by Beyonce’s rendition of the National Anthem? Forget that. Turns out Beyonce lip-synched the anthem, which everybody knows must be performed live or else lose its meaning. “All music is pre-recorded for the ceremony because there are so many eventualities and conditions that day,” said Kristin DuBois, a representative for the U.S. Marine band that (ahem) “accompanied” her. “We performed, live, the band. But we received last-minute word that Beyonce was going to use the pre-recorded vocal track. Those were the instructions we were given. We don’t know what the (sic) reason why.” All we know is that there is nothing real or true anymore. [New York Post]
Right now is a good time to go remix all of Jerry Seinfeld’s old routines into the modern language of hip-hop. “What’s the deal with that wiggety-wiggety-wiggety-wack airplane food?” (Admittedly, that’s actually the 20-year-old language of hip-hop. Getting old sucks.) Seinfeld is beating you to the punch, coming down to Philly to (really!) record an rap album with Wale, who just happens to be his wife’s favorite artist. The album, called #Nothing, will be released soon. See the video below of Seinfeld talking, in his inimitable Seinfeld fashion, about the project. [Crossing Broad]
Sure, it’s freezing outside. Warm yourself, though, to thoughts of shaking your thang at this summer’s Root’s Picnic. Questlove unveiled the lineup Tuesday morning via Twitter:
Naughty By Nature is still performing? Amazing. Also on the bill: Gary Clark Jr., Solange, Robert Glasper, DJ Premier, and several artists who use dollar signs to spell the letter “S” in their names. Should be fun!
The award commentary is behind Harper’s paywall, but a description of Marandino’s accomplishments were described in a press release from the publication:
“Frank is the consummate professional who connects with everyone he meets. He is unflappable, quick-witted and caring,” said The Rittenhouse General Manager Reg Archambault. “This is a momentous honor for the hotel but we are not surprised, due to the volume of compliments we receive mentioning Frank by name and his impact on our guests.”
For more than a decade, Marandino has been a staple at The Rittenhouse, enhancing travelers’ Philadelphia experience. He also represents the City as a member of Les Clefs d’Or USA, the most elite association of concierges in the U.S. – there are less than 525 members. According to the editors at Andrew Harper’s Hideaway Report, Marandino was selected because, “he greeted us as old friends” and “he personified the wonderfully warm, personal service of The Rittenhouse, where every staff member seemed determined that we should want for nothing.”
Uwishunu interview Marandino in a video last year, and you can see for yourself the panache he brings to the job.
Yesterday, President Obama, flanked by beaming parents, signed a series of initiatives that will, at long last, start to push the boulder that is gun control up what’s bound to be a steep hill. Freaking finally. Cue the collective sign of the cross. He had those parents’ kids standing by, too, which I often think is something of a political calling card (see: unhinged NRA video about the not-at-all targetable Obamas), but was, in this instance, a warm, genuine gesture to the efforts at hand.
I don’t have a lot of kids in my day-to-day life, so when I got to go home over the holidays to see my younger cousins, just a couple weeks after the legislation-prompting Newtown shootings, I was surprised to see them all two inches taller and wielding… plastic rifles. (The boys, anyway. One of my girl cousins got a slick pair of One Direction-themed socks from Santa.) Read more »
Wanna hear a joke? Two schlubby middle-aged lesbian guys walk into a bar.
“Boy, I’m fat and bald,” says the first one.
“Boy, I’m lonely and depressed,” says the second one.
OK, it’s probably funnier the way Louis C.K. tells it — in fact I know it is — which would explain why he kicked off a sold out national tour with a three-night run at the Merriam last night and I just sat in the cheap seats. Part man, part manatee, C.K. took the stage last night dressed in muffin-topped jeans and a not entirely flattering blue t-shirt stretched across his lumpy thorax and cod-white limbs, a pruned-back Bozo-like shock of ginger hair and matching goatee. Read more »
We’re here! We’re queer! Lesbian! Gay! Bisexual! Transsexual! Intersex! Asexual! Allied! Questioning! Non-Cisgender! Try chanting it!
How many letters does it take to topple an acronym? That question has been very much on my mind since I was quoted by the New York Times last week in a lengthy piece about the millennial generation’s ever-expanding definitions of sexual orientation and gender. Read more »