"Jeopardy" and "Queer Eye" are headed to D.C.
D.C. T.V. fans, now's your time — "Jeopardy" and "Queer Eye" are coming to town.
Why it matters: Ken Jennings and the Fab Five!!!!
State of play: " Queer Eye" is currently in D.C. scouting candidates for its 10th season.
Know someone who needs a glow up? Email their name, pic, and backstory to [email protected].
Meanwhile, " Jeopardy" will be in town April 10-12.
Deets are still TBD, but the show's host, Ken Jennings, will be the Cherry Blossom Festival Parade's grand marshal. Expect an IRL taping of the "Inside Jeopardy! Live" podcast at the Lincoln Theatre and visits to local universities.
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8 hours ago
- Yahoo
Motor City Pride celebrates 53 years of uplifting LGBTQ+ community
Motor City Pride celebrated 53 years of LGBTQ+ community and revelry this weekend in downtown Detroit's Hart Plaza, bringing together people of every ethnicity and type from near and far to live their truths and honor those who made it possible. Jai Rodriguez, an Emmy-winning original cast member of reality show 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy,' served as celebrity grand marshal during the annual parade along Griswold on Sunday afternoon. The parade attracted thousands of participants and spectators. Rodriguez, who spent 10 days in Detroit in 2011 for a guest role on ABC's 'Detroit 1-8-7,' spoke fondly of the Motor City and the importance of Pride. 'I grew up very Evangelical,' he said. 'No TV, no secular music. I didn't have any access or knowledge of what it was like to be authentically myself in the late 1990s. The internet was new and for rich people, in my mind, and so I really had to rely on family of choice. Five years later, I got this massive TV show, 'Queer Eye,' and a lot of folks forget that we weren't always welcomed in every space. In season one, a lot of major brands didn't want to work with us because we had the word 'queer' in our title. 'But I had this crazy experience of the world celebrating us at large. We had no social media at that time, so what we saw was a lot of positivity, especially from conservative folks who thoroughly enjoyed our program – they just didn't think it was OK for us to marry. Difficult conversations launched during the first Trump presidency, and we saw a lot of rhetoric build against the community. I think we all got really comfortable during the Obama presidency, when the White House was lit up rainbow and we had marriage equality. It seemed like the fight had been won, but there's still so much more to do.' Rodriguez said the only grooming he experienced as a child was through the church drilling into him how to be 'a good, straight, Christian man.' 'Queer people have never been a threat,' he said. 'We are not innately dangerous. We are just as magical and just as flawed as anyone else.' Attendees of all ages beamed from ear to ear when asked about their experience at the festival. More: How a flag on a pole became a turning point for Hamtramck Opinion: I'm a gay man in Detroit. Celebrating Pride feels more important than ever. 'It's been nice,' said Mandy Ware, an African American senior citizen using a walker who only described her age as 'much older than I look.' 'It's been nice just being with people that are friendly, and just being themselves, and not judging.' Young couple Stephanie Roberson and Tyler Danielak called the experience 'fantastic.' 'Everyone's been so great, so welcoming, so expressive,' said Danielak, 'and it's so nice to see everyone from different walks of life and different experiences and cultures. You've got furries, you've got the gay community, just everyone coming together.' The pair took advantage of free 'chosen family' portraits that were offered at the Rocket Mortgage booth. Rocket Companies creative director Joy Crocker talked about why it was important for the company to present a chosen family photo op this year. 'At Rocket,' she said, 'our mission is to help everyone home, and that means everyone − all of our communities, including the LGBTQ+ community. Last year, here at Pride, we asked the community what means home to them, and we … learned that home is belonging. It's acceptance, and ultimately, chosen family, the people who support you for all the parts of you. And we know chosen family is particularly important for this community, because blood family doesn't always show up. 'However, chosen family is something everyone can relate to, not just this community, and we think that's beautiful. So this is our way of showing up and letting the community know that we believe it deserves the same amount of respect and honor and documentation as blood family. It's so common that we'll see family portraits hanging in someone's home, but you don't always see chosen family portraits, even though that feeling is exactly the same.' JP, aged 76, is one of the founders of Motor City Pride. 'I know where I have instant family,' he said. 'This marks my 58 years in the life. I've been out since 1967, and in 1972, I was part of the group that built this. It's been a pleasure to watch it grow.' Quinn Jacob and Rachel Paulin are a young couple who are cast members in Ferndale's Ringwald Theatre's all-adult production of 'Annie,' currently running through June 30. The musical's theme of finding chosen family after great hardship hits particularly close to home during Pride Month. 'It's very humbling and inspiring,' said Jacob, 'to revisit our ancestors and the people who made all of this possible today, and every Pride Month. It's very moving to see where we came from and then where we are today.' Metro Detroit transgender advocacy nonprofit Stand With Trans also had a booth at the event, manned by board member John Davis-Piotrowski. 'Visibility is the biggest thing, I think, 'he said. 'Being able to be part of not only the trans community, but the LGBTQ community allies' families. That's something Stand With Trans has always been about – making sure that we're on that journey, both for trans members, but also their families and, again, allies, any supporters of the trans community. Just being out here and being able to see all of the community members who want to come up and talk about the services we've helped them with, or showing them that they're able to refer their families to us … that's the biggest reason we're out here.' Trans attendees Jill, Suzumebachi and Kelly, all of whom stopped by the Stand With Trans booth, spoke about the event's importance. All three said they moved to Detroit in the last few years from red states seeking safety. 'To me," said Suzumebachi, "Pride means casting off the shackles of Christo-fascist white supremacy and colonialism.' 'We're still here, no matter what's happening outside,' said Kelly. Suzumebachi cited ancient historical research. 'We're a demographic humanity,' she said. 'People who are queer have existed for thousands of years. You know, there are records of us going back to Sumeria, and they've been trying to eradicate those for the last millennium or so, unsuccessfully, and so we're just proving that point again and again.' Rodriguez summed it up by recognizing the origins of Pride events nationwide. 'Pride started as a protest,' he said, 'a gathering of individuals who were sick of sitting on the sidelines not having equal rights. Today, the spirit of our LGBTQIA+ ancestors were very much with us. We are reminded we can recharge our emotional batteries, find community and protest injustice at every Pride we attend. 'All while doing it fabulously.' This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Motor City Pride celebrates 53 years of uplifting LGBTQ+ community
Yahoo
9 hours ago
- Yahoo
Motor City Pride celebrates 53 years of uplifting LGBTQ+ community
Motor City Pride celebrated 53 years of LGBTQ+ community and revelry this weekend in downtown Detroit's Hart Plaza, bringing together people of every ethnicity and type from near and far to live their truths and honor those who made it possible. Jai Rodriguez, an Emmy-winning original cast member of reality show 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy,' served as celebrity grand marshal during the annual parade along Griswold on Sunday afternoon. The parade attracted thousands of participants and spectators. Rodriguez, who spent 10 days in Detroit in 2011 for a guest role on ABC's 'Detroit 1-8-7,' spoke fondly of the Motor City and the importance of Pride. 'I grew up very Evangelical,' he said. 'No TV, no secular music. I didn't have any access or knowledge of what it was like to be authentically myself in the late 1990s. The internet was new and for rich people, in my mind, and so I really had to rely on family of choice. Five years later, I got this massive TV show, 'Queer Eye,' and a lot of folks forget that we weren't always welcomed in every space. In season one, a lot of major brands didn't want to work with us because we had the word 'queer' in our title. 'But I had this crazy experience of the world celebrating us at large. We had no social media at that time, so what we saw was a lot of positivity, especially from conservative folks who thoroughly enjoyed our program – they just didn't think it was OK for us to marry. Difficult conversations launched during the first Trump presidency, and we saw a lot of rhetoric build against the community. I think we all got really comfortable during the Obama presidency, when the White House was lit up rainbow and we had marriage equality. It seemed like the fight had been won, but there's still so much more to do.' Rodriguez said the only grooming he experienced as a child was through the church drilling into him how to be 'a good, straight, Christian man.' 'Queer people have never been a threat,' he said. 'We are not innately dangerous. We are just as magical and just as flawed as anyone else.' Attendees of all ages beamed from ear to ear when asked about their experience at the festival. More: How a flag on a pole became a turning point for Hamtramck Opinion: I'm a gay man in Detroit. Celebrating Pride feels more important than ever. 'It's been nice,' said Mandy Ware, an African American senior citizen using a walker who only described her age as 'much older than I look.' 'It's been nice just being with people that are friendly, and just being themselves, and not judging.' Young couple Stephanie Roberson and Tyler Danielak called the experience 'fantastic.' 'Everyone's been so great, so welcoming, so expressive,' said Danielak, 'and it's so nice to see everyone from different walks of life and different experiences and cultures. You've got furries, you've got the gay community, just everyone coming together.' The pair took advantage of free 'chosen family' portraits that were offered at the Rocket Mortgage booth. Rocket Companies creative director Joy Crocker talked about why it was important for the company to present a chosen family photo op this year. 'At Rocket,' she said, 'our mission is to help everyone home, and that means everyone − all of our communities, including the LGBTQ+ community. Last year, here at Pride, we asked the community what means home to them, and we … learned that home is belonging. It's acceptance, and ultimately, chosen family, the people who support you for all the parts of you. And we know chosen family is particularly important for this community, because blood family doesn't always show up. 'However, chosen family is something everyone can relate to, not just this community, and we think that's beautiful. So this is our way of showing up and letting the community know that we believe it deserves the same amount of respect and honor and documentation as blood family. It's so common that we'll see family portraits hanging in someone's home, but you don't always see chosen family portraits, even though that feeling is exactly the same.' JP, aged 76, is one of the founders of Motor City Pride. 'I know where I have instant family,' he said. 'This marks my 58 years in the life. I've been out since 1967, and in 1972, I was part of the group that built this. It's been a pleasure to watch it grow.' Quinn Jacob and Rachel Paulin are a young couple who are cast members in Ferndale's Ringwald Theatre's all-adult production of 'Annie,' currently running through June 30. The musical's theme of finding chosen family after great hardship hits particularly close to home during Pride Month. 'It's very humbling and inspiring,' said Jacob, 'to revisit our ancestors and the people who made all of this possible today, and every Pride Month. It's very moving to see where we came from and then where we are today.' Metro Detroit transgender advocacy nonprofit Stand With Trans also had a booth at the event, manned by board member John Davis-Piotrowski. 'Visibility is the biggest thing, I think, 'he said. 'Being able to be part of not only the trans community, but the LGBTQ community allies' families. That's something Stand With Trans has always been about – making sure that we're on that journey, both for trans members, but also their families and, again, allies, any supporters of the trans community. Just being out here and being able to see all of the community members who want to come up and talk about the services we've helped them with, or showing them that they're able to refer their families to us … that's the biggest reason we're out here.' Trans attendees Jill, Suzumebachi and Kelly, all of whom stopped by the Stand With Trans booth, spoke about the event's importance. All three said they moved to Detroit in the last few years from red states seeking safety. 'To me," said Suzumebachi, "Pride means casting off the shackles of Christo-fascist white supremacy and colonialism.' 'We're still here, no matter what's happening outside,' said Kelly. Suzumebachi cited ancient historical research. 'We're a demographic humanity,' she said. 'People who are queer have existed for thousands of years. You know, there are records of us going back to Sumeria, and they've been trying to eradicate those for the last millennium or so, unsuccessfully, and so we're just proving that point again and again.' Rodriguez summed it up by recognizing the origins of Pride events nationwide. 'Pride started as a protest,' he said, 'a gathering of individuals who were sick of sitting on the sidelines not having equal rights. Today, the spirit of our LGBTQIA+ ancestors were very much with us. We are reminded we can recharge our emotional batteries, find community and protest injustice at every Pride we attend. 'All while doing it fabulously.' This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Motor City Pride celebrates 53 years of uplifting LGBTQ+ community
Yahoo
19 hours ago
- Yahoo
Garland Jeffreys Was One of Rock's Most Essential Voices. Where Did He Go?
In the late 1970s, many of music's top tastemakers felt sure Garland Jeffreys would become the next big thing. Rolling Stone named him the 'most promising artist' of 1977. The prestigious PBS program Soundstage predicted he would become 'the next performer to lay claim to superstardom.' And powerful radio stations like New York's WNEW-FM kept his songs '35 Millimeter Dreams' and 'Wild in the Streets' in heavy rotation. The sound that drew all this praise was marked by vocals that recalled the sardonic cadence of Jeffreys' close friend Lou Reed, matched to a theatrical blast of rock that brought to mind the work of another friend, Bruce Springsteen, had he grown up in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, rather than his old stomping grounds in New Jersey. So deep was the belief in Jeffreys' talent in those days that, two decades later, he was still famous enough for the massively popular TV show Jeopardy to feature the title of one of his most acclaimed songs as the answer to a question. Unfortunately, the reaction of the show's three contestants in 2000 revealed a sad disconnect: None of them showed any sign of recognition when his song was mentioned. 'That tells you everything,' says the singer's wife of more than 30 years and manager, Claire Jeffreys. 'Garland was hot enough to have his song mentioned by Jeopardy's writers, but not known by enough of the general public to get a single response.' More from Rolling Stone Rob Reiner: 'Bruce Springsteen Is 100 Percent Right' About Trump Hear Bruce Springsteen's Lost Nineties Mariachi Song 'Adelita' Bruce Springsteen Is Under Attack by Trump. These Are All the Artists Supporting Him That sense of missed opportunity forms the emotional core of a new documentary about the star titled Garland Jeffreys: The King of In Between. The title refers both to Jeffreys' musical style — an uncategorizable mix of rock, reggae, and soul — and to his identity as the mixed-race son of a Black father and a Puerto Rican mother who struggled to find his place in the overwhelmingly white world of '70s and '80s rock. That struggle became his most sustained subject, forming the basis of many of his most powerful songs. 'I don't know of anybody who has written about race as directly as Garland has,' Springsteen says in the documentary, which premieres at New York's IFC Center on Friday before arriving in select other theaters in the coming weeks. (The film will stream on Amazon Prime, iTunes, Google Play, and Tubi starting in August.) Striking as the story of Jeffreys' career may be, it's been dwarfed in some ways by the dramatic events that have taken place in his life in the nine years since his wife began making the documentary. In 2018, the now 81-year-old musician began showing signs of dementia, a condition that has progressed to the point where he is now unable to care for himself and barely able to communicate. The daunting task of his care at their Manhattan apartment has fallen to his wife, with assistance from a home aide. Despite that, she chose to leave his dementia out of the film she made. 'I felt it would overwhelm the music and everything else about his life,' she says. Ultimately, she adds, she chose to talk about this with Rolling Stone to give full context to a tale that already touches on a host of hot-button topics. Even today, years later, Jeffreys' autobiographical style of songwriting remains remarkable. 'Garland has been incredibly courageous in the particular way he has written about race,' says guitarist Vernon Reid, who played on one of Jeffreys' albums in the Nineties. 'He writes about it in a very intimate way so that what you hear in his songs isn't like the work of anyone else.' Jeffreys introduced his approach in the very first track off his self-titled debut album in 1973. In the 'Ballad of Me,' he described himself as 'Black and white as can be … a freak in the family/Like a newborn child/With a frozen smile.' As his lyrics suggest, Jeffreys' family life was fraught from the start. His birth father left the family when he was just two. His mother, whom his wife describes as 'high maintenance,' remarried a few years later to a man who beat Garland on a fairly regular basis for the smallest infractions. 'His mother would tattle on him, saying 'Garland didn't sweep the stoop,' and then his father would wallop him,' Claire says. 'That his mother, the person who's supposed to protect him, would tell on him created in him a deep psychological distrust of people.' She adds, 'It made Garland into someone with a huge chip on his shoulder, both personally and professionally.' Despite that, she says her husband's childhood in Sheepshead Bay had many bright spots, some involving the family, others involving neighbors whom he would entertain by singing doo-wop on street corners in the style of his idol, Frankie Lymon. At seven, Garland started coming into the city for piano lessons. By his early teens, he sneaked into jazz clubs in Greenwich Village to hear singer Carmen McRae (a distant relative) and sax work from Sonny Rollins (who later played with him in his PBS Soundstage performance). A few years later, his father made sure to send Garland to Syracuse University, no small feat for a man who made his main living waiting tables. At Syracuse in the early 1960s, Garland met and quickly befriended Lou Reed, a fellow student there. The fact that Reed already wrote songs despite his limited vocal range inspired the more vocally adept Jeffreys to perform himself. Part of their bond came from their mutual ability to reflect the character of their birth city in their music. 'You can hear New York talking in both of those guys,' says Laurie Anderson, who married Reed in 2008. 'They're both connected to the language of the streets. When they hung out, they would always riff on it and turn it into a song.' After college, Jeffreys attended the Institute of Fine Arts in New York but dropped out to pursue music. In 1969, he played guitar on John Cale's debut solo album, Vintage Violence, and, that same year, formed a band named Grinder's Switch that was signed to Vanguard Records and performed at the Fillmore East. Their debut album was produced by Lewis Merenstein, who had recently overseen Van Morrison's classic Astral Weeks. Though the Grinder's Switch album flopped, Jeffreys managed to get a solo contract with Atlantic. And while his sole release for the label — that 1973 self-titled debut featuring 'Ballad of Me' — was another bomb, it got good reviews for a sound that favored folk rock, blues, and reggae, a style that was just beginning to make an impact in the U.S. at the time. In an attempt to get attention for himself in that period, Jeffreys told some media outlets he was Jamaican. The lie revealed a flair for self-mythologizing already evident in his choice of a stage name: Born William Jeffreys, the singer chose to use his middle name, Garland, to sound more exotic. Four long years passed before he got another record contract, this time with A&M. His 1977 debut for the label, titled Ghost Writer, featured a song called 'Wild in the Streets' that was inspired by a horrific incident in the Bronx in which two teenage boys raped and murdered a nine-year-old girl. 'He was deeply affected by that story because it happened to children,' Claire says. 'He always felt like a wounded child himself.' 'Wild in the Streets' earned lots of FM radio play and was later covered by the Circle Jerks in what became such a signature piece for the California hardcore punks that few of their fans know Jeffreys actually wrote it. It didn't help that their version inverted its meaning entirely, turning it from a tragedy into an expression of joyous freedom. 'Garland didn't mind,' says Claire, who would go on to marry him in 1989. 'No matter how someone interprets your song, it's still an honor when someone covers it.' Given all the hype behind Ghost Writer, including RS' 'most promising artist' rave, Jeffreys took it hard when the album failed to sell. It didn't help his cause, his wife says, that he frequently fought with his label. 'He never felt like the label was doing right by him, even if they technically were,' she says. 'He always came from a place of insecurity and distrust.' Despite all the setbacks, Jeffreys continued to soar creatively, releasing notable albums like 1979's American Boy & Girl, whose cover featured an image of an interracial couple, and which generated a huge hit in Europe with the song 'Matador.' Stateside, Jeffreys continued to burn through labels, issuing albums on Epic and RCA. His first effort for the latter label channeled all of his frustrations into a stirring 1992 concept album about race called Don't Call Me Buckwheat. Its confrontational title was inspired by an ugly incident in the early '90s at a Mets game when someone in the crowd yelled at Jeffreys, 'Hey Buckwheat, get the fuck out of here,' making reference to the Black character from the 1930s series Our Gang. To drive home the pain and poignancy of that, the album cover featured a photo of Jeffreys as a child dressed in his baseball uniform to attend the historic game in which Jackie Robinson broke the color line. One song on the album was titled 'Color Line,' while another, named 'Racial Repertoire,' discussed what's known today as code-switching. 'The way you speak in the neighborhood is different from the way you speak on the job,' Reid explains. 'Garland wrote about that situation better than anyone.' More daringly, Jeffreys wrote about his own internalized racial shame in 'I Was Afraid of Malcolm,' with lyrics that found him struggling to accept Malcolm X's message. 'Malcolm was demanding an accounting, and Garland was terrified of what that would mean,' Reid says. 'To face the truth of racism is a monstrous thing.' While the album resonated in Europe, aided by strong support by a German record executive, it was buried in the U.S., once again reinforcing issues the singer had long faced as a Black rocker. In an interview I did with Garland in 2011, he talked about that. 'I'm too Black to be white, and too white to be Black,' he said then. 'We faced the same issue in my band,' Reid says of his pioneering group Living Colour. 'Black artists are not considered in the rock field.' At his most frustrated, Jeffreys resorted to painting his face Black, while also creating blackface masks to wear onstage. 'He knew that could be controversial,' his wife says. 'But he felt he had to do something.' Reid considers Jeffreys' blackface move to be an 'act of self-lacerating performance art. He was forcing the issue while also forcing the audience to face their own complicity in the situation.' Jeffreys' lack of success in the States ultimately left him without a recording contract in his home country for nearly 20 years. When he finally returned to recording with The King of In Between in 2011, the album appeared on his own label, Luna Park. Critics raved. Again, audiences remained aloof. Undaunted, Jeffreys continued issuing new work through 2017 with 14 Steps to Harlem. Two years later, he announced his retirement, though his wife thinks he should have stepped back sooner. 'He had been faltering in live performances for quite a while, forgetting lyrics or telling a story that was meandering,' she says. Her initial suggestion to stop didn't go over well. 'It was definitely a case of killing the messenger,' she says. 'It was really rough because performing was so important to him — way more important than success.' Eventually, however, not only did Jeffreys come to accept retirement, he began to appreciate the level of success he had achieved by re-centering his focus on the quality of the work itself. For the documentary, Springsteen offered the most laudatory summation of Jeffreys' talents. 'He's in the great singer-songwriter tradition of Dylan and Neil Young,' Springsteen said, 'one of the American greats.' Spreading the word on that was the main impetus behind Claire Jeffreys making the documentary, but it took some persuading to get her husband to go along. 'At first, he was ambivalent because it brought back all of those hard feelings,' she says. Despite his declining health, Jeffreys was able to appear during much of the filming. Eventually, though, his wife had to jump onscreen to speak for him. Relieved as she is to finally get the film out, it pains her to know that her husband may be unaware of either its release or its reception. Regardless, she believes his story has a silver lining. 'Ultimately, this is a story about perseverance,' she says. 'When each of us gets older, we realize that certain dreams of ours haven't been fulfilled. I hope this film helps people to accept what they have achieved, as Garland eventually did. Despite all that he faced, his has been a life well lived.' 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