Latest news with #DaddyIssues
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
I didn't want my millions of followers to see me as 'the deaf girl.' Finally getting a hearing aid has changed all that.
Violet Benson always struggled to hear in her left ear, but it took her years to realizehow big the problem was — and even longer to do something about it. The Daddy Issues meme account creator, podcaster and author — her book comes out next year — kept her hearing loss secret from most people until her 30s. It was only this summer that Benson revealed to her millions of Instagram followers that she'd recently been fitted with a hearing aid. Getting the device, and opening up to her audience, gave Benson back much more than her hearing. In this interview with Yahoo's Natalie Rahhal, she opens up about experiencing new sounds — and Celine Dion — and accepting her full self. Growing up, everything on my left side was always off. As a child, I just assumed everything was better on the right side because I was right-handed. I was born this way: Legally deaf in my left ear, with an enamel deficiency that made my bones weak, including my left leg, which was crooked from birth. I have to assume that it was all because I was born with vitamin D deficiency. I was born in Russia, where, if you're born in the winter, there's no sun. Plus, I was born under communism, when many babies were born malnourished. Once we left Russia, my mother took me to a doctor for a consultation about having surgery to fix my leg. The doctor said to just put me in the sun for vitamin D therapy. And the sun worked! I now have two very straight, very normal, same-size legs, without any surgeries! I was even able to do gymnastics, jazz and ballet until I was 17. But my other health issues persisted. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Violetta Elaia Benson (@violetbenson) As a child, I didn't give much thought to my hearing because my biggest struggle was with my teeth, which were bad due to an enamel deficiency. People made fun of me, and I was at the doctor or dentist every week; I've had more than 15 root canals. So, my hearing was just not at the top of my priorities list. I first really became aware of my hearing loss after we won the green card lottery and moved to the U.S. when I was 14. I saw my sister talking on the phone. First, she held it on the right side of her head, then she switched the phone to her left side. I was shocked. I asked her how she could hear on her left side. She told me I sounded stupid and that she switched ears whenever she felt like it. That's when I realized: I can't do that. Still, I tuned it out. I told myself, It's not that deep, I'll just deal with it. I think that's a very 'immigrant' mentality. My whole family was living crammed in an apartment, so my hearing didn't feel important compared to the other things we were dealing with. Plus, I'm Eastern European, so I was kind of taught that you hold the pain inside. Instead, I just adapted. I learned to read lips without realizing it. Your brain is such a marvelous organ; mine just learned to adjust to hearing on one side. I would always tilt my head to the right side when people spoke to me. Sometimes people thought I was rude because I would stare at the ground, trying to concentrate on hearing them on my right side. As an adult, I finally told many of my friends that I was deaf in my left ear, so they would just speak to me in my right. But otherwise, I continued to ignore my hearing loss and focus on building the identity that I wanted to have. In my 20s, I got 'celebrity'-style porcelain veneers (the only type that will work on my teeth because you could see the yellow through others) and, for the first time, I felt beautiful. I started my 'Daddy Issues' Instagram account. I had worked so hard to build my confidence and this perfect exterior because I'd rather mask my flaws and make sure no one else could see them. The pandemic was the first time my hearing loss really became an issue. With people wearing masks or standing far away, I couldn't read their lips. I started to feel really embarrassed and uncomfortable, especially if someone was speaking to me with an accent. I wouldn't be able to make out what they were saying because I'm deaf and I couldn't read their lips. But I felt so guilty because I know what it's like to be foreign and have people struggle to understand you. It was exhausting, and I felt so much shame that I genuinely stopped leaving my house for a long time. With the pandemic over and masks off, it got easier. But after a year or two — maybe because I'm aging — I started to struggle again, especially trying to hear people at events or on nights out. Trying to talk to people when there's any background noise becomes really exhausting, and I would get tired and irritable. People thought I just didn't care because I didn't want to have a heart-to-heart in the club. This year, I started to feel like I could hear less and less. I didn't understand why I was getting tired faster than usual when having conversations. After struggling more and more, I finally decided to take a hearing test a few months ago. On my left side, I could only hear very high pitches, and it sounded like I was standing far away from an intercom and someone was trying to speak to me through it. I felt tears fill my eyes, and I started to get overwhelmed. The audiologist told me that my brain was experiencing so much shock. I had no idea how bad my hearing was on my left ear. After the test, the audiologist told me that I have 90% of my hearing in my right ear and 30% in my left. That means I have severe hearing loss. She said that I would slowly lose more and more hearing, including on my right side, because your ears are like a muscle: If you don't use your hearing, it kind of dies off. She said that my migraines, fatigue and irritability were likely due to my right ear working overtime, trying to tune out background noise so I could listen. The audiologist told me that if I don't start wearing a hearing aid, not only will I struggle to understand when other people speak, I'll start losing my ability to pronounce words. People who are deaf on both sides speak differently because they can't hear themselves. That was a big fear for me, because I speak for a living. The audiologist warned me that I needed to take my health more seriously. There were two weeks between the exam and the day that I accepted the hearing aid. I cried about it every day and didn't tell anyone. As humans, we have so many annoying emotions. Part of me felt like I would lose my identity if I had to wear a hearing aid, and people could see it. I worried they would think of me as the deaf girl, instead of the person I've built my identity around: this confident person, the creator of Daddy Issues who gives advice. I felt like the hearing aid was going to take my identity without my permission. And I even felt shame around the fact that I was embarrassed about it. I'm supposed to be this person who tells others to be confident and love who they are. I'd rather be the villain in the story than someone that you pity, and there I was feeling shame about my self-pity. I'm even writing a book that's part memoir, part self-help about how not to be a victim! Then one day, I woke up and was like, Hello, listen to the advice in your own book! I can't control what someone else thinks about me, and while I'm thinking they're looking at my hearing aid, in reality, maybe they think I'm ugly or my personality is annoying. We can make up as many stories as we want about what other people are thinking, but I can only control what I'm thinking. And no one can make me a victim unless I make myself the victim. It took me 20 years to accept my insecurity about my teeth, and I'm not doing that again. So, yes, I'm deaf in my left ear. Now what? I got the hearing aid and put it on. Imagine: For the first time in 36 years, there's suddenly sound on your left side. It was overwhelming, but I also felt like Superman. I walked out of the audiologist's and I could hear everything. I could hear the cars behind me on the street. I went into UPS, and a lady put tape on a box, and it felt like nails on a chalkboard. I was like, How is this not a superpower? But then I got in my car and turned on music with the volume just halfway up. I've always loved concerts because it's the only time I can hear music the way everyone else hears it. The first thing I listened to was a Celine Dion song that she sings in French. It was so beautiful to be able to decipher the differences between her voice, the background sounds and the piano. I had tears in my eyes. When I found out I had to wear a hearing aid or lose my hearing, I had thoughts like, What if I'm less lovable? There's this constant fear of being judged — or judging yourself because there are bigger problems in the world, so how dare I feel these emotions? But it's all in our heads. In reality, as an adult, I gave myself something I wasn't able to as a child: I told myself my feelings were important. You have to have those conversations and allow yourself to cry. It goes way beyond hearing loss: You have to be able to accept yourself. I realized that if I kept my hearing aid to myself, it would be a shameful thing. But if I put a video out into the world, it would force me to just be OK with it. I was surprised to get teary while making the video, but once I posted it, it was just this sense of acceptance. We often think we're the only person who experiences those emotions and that shame, whether it's about hearing loss, or your appearance, or ADHD or depression. Your pain can become your identity when you don't know how to deal with it and think that it's the only thing that represents you. But it's not. Once I said it out loud — that I am deaf and need a hearing aid — I didn't feel like a prisoner to my own pain. It's out there, and now I'm free from it. If I hadn't accepted myself, then the first person I came across who didn't was going to break me. But now, you can't break me without my permission. I already cried about it! When I walked outside with my hearing aid for the first time, no one even noticed! They didn't have pity in their eyes. It felt like such a big deal, but that's because I made it such a big deal. This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
I didn't want my millions of followers to see me as 'the deaf girl.' Finally getting a hearing aid has changed all that.
Violet Benson always struggled to hear in her left ear, but it took her years to realizehow big the problem was — and even longer to do something about it. The Daddy Issues meme account creator, podcaster and author — her book comes out next year — kept her hearing loss secret from most people until her 30s. It was only this summer that Benson revealed to her millions of Instagram followers that she'd recently been fitted with a hearing aid. Getting the device, and opening up to her audience, gave Benson back much more than her hearing. In this interview with Yahoo's Natalie Rahhal, she opens up about experiencing new sounds — and Celine Dion — and accepting her full self. Growing up, everything on my left side was always off. As a child, I just assumed everything was better on the right side because I was right-handed. I was born this way: Legally deaf in my left ear, with an enamel deficiency that made my bones weak, including my left leg, which was crooked from birth. I have to assume that it was all because I was born with vitamin D deficiency. I was born in Russia, where, if you're born in the winter, there's no sun. Plus, I was born under communism, when many babies were born malnourished. Once we left Russia, my mother took me to a doctor for a consultation about having surgery to fix my leg. The doctor said to just put me in the sun for vitamin D therapy. And the sun worked! I now have two very straight, very normal, same-size legs, without any surgeries! I was even able to do gymnastics, jazz and ballet until I was 17. But my other health issues persisted. As a child, I didn't give much thought to my hearing because my biggest struggle was with my teeth, which were bad due to an enamel deficiency. People made fun of me, and I was at the doctor or dentist every week; I've had more than 15 root canals. So, my hearing was just not at the top of my priorities list. I first really became aware of my hearing loss after we won the green card lottery and moved to the U.S. when I was 14. I saw my sister talking on the phone. First, she held it on the right side of her head, then she switched the phone to her left side. I was shocked. I asked her how she could hear on her left side. She told me I sounded stupid and that she switched ears whenever she felt like it. That's when I realized: I can't do that. Still, I tuned it out. I told myself, It's not that deep, I'll just deal with it. I think that's a very 'immigrant' mentality. My whole family was living crammed in an apartment, so my hearing didn't feel important compared to the other things we were dealing with. Plus, I'm Eastern European, so I was kind of taught that you hold the pain inside. Instead, I just adapted. I learned to read lips without realizing it. Your brain is such a marvelous organ; mine just learned to adjust to hearing on one side. I would always tilt my head to the right side when people spoke to me. Sometimes people thought I was rude because I would stare at the ground, trying to concentrate on hearing them on my right side. As an adult, I finally told many of my friends that I was deaf in my left ear, so they would just speak to me in my right. But otherwise, I continued to ignore my hearing loss and focus on building the identity that I wanted to have. In my 20s, I got 'celebrity'-style porcelain veneers (the only type that will work on my teeth because you could see the yellow through others) and, for the first time, I felt beautiful. I started my 'Daddy Issues' Instagram account. I had worked so hard to build my confidence and this perfect exterior because I'd rather mask my flaws and make sure no one else could see them. The pandemic was the first time my hearing loss really became an issue. With people wearing masks or standing far away, I couldn't read their lips. I started to feel really embarrassed and uncomfortable, especially if someone was speaking to me with an accent. I wouldn't be able to make out what they were saying because I'm deaf and I couldn't read their lips. But I felt so guilty because I know what it's like to be foreign and have people struggle to understand you. It was exhausting, and I felt so much shame that I genuinely stopped leaving my house for a long time. With the pandemic over and masks off, it got easier. But after a year or two — maybe because I'm aging — I started to struggle again, especially trying to hear people at events or on nights out. Trying to talk to people when there's any background noise becomes really exhausting, and I would get tired and irritable. People thought I just didn't care because I didn't want to have a heart-to-heart in the club. This year, I started to feel like I could hear less and less. I didn't understand why I was getting tired faster than usual when having conversations. After struggling more and more, I finally decided to take a hearing test a few months ago. On my left side, I could only hear very high pitches, and it sounded like I was standing far away from an intercom and someone was trying to speak to me through it. I felt tears fill my eyes, and I started to get overwhelmed. The audiologist told me that my brain was experiencing so much shock. I had no idea how bad my hearing was on my left ear. After the test, the audiologist told me that I have 90% of my hearing in my right ear and 30% in my left. That means I have severe hearing loss. She said that I would slowly lose more and more hearing, including on my right side, because your ears are like a muscle: If you don't use your hearing, it kind of dies off. She said that my migraines, fatigue and irritability were likely due to my right ear working overtime, trying to tune out background noise so I could listen. The audiologist told me that if I don't start wearing a hearing aid, not only will I struggle to understand when other people speak, I'll start losing my ability to pronounce words. People who are deaf on both sides speak differently because they can't hear themselves. That was a big fear for me, because I speak for a living. The audiologist warned me that I needed to take my health more seriously. There were two weeks between the exam and the day that I accepted the hearing aid. I cried about it every day and didn't tell anyone. As humans, we have so many annoying emotions. Part of me felt like I would lose my identity if I had to wear a hearing aid, and people could see it. I worried they would think of me as the deaf girl, instead of the person I've built my identity around: this confident person, the creator of Daddy Issues who gives advice. I felt like the hearing aid was going to take my identity without my permission. And I even felt shame around the fact that I was embarrassed about it. I'm supposed to be this person who tells others to be confident and love who they are. I'd rather be the villain in the story than someone that you pity, and there I was feeling shame about my self-pity. I'm even writing a book that's part memoir, part self-help about how not to be a victim! Then one day, I woke up and was like, Hello, listen to the advice in your own book! I can't control what someone else thinks about me, and while I'm thinking they're looking at my hearing aid, in reality, maybe they think I'm ugly or my personality is annoying. We can make up as many stories as we want about what other people are thinking, but I can only control what I'm thinking. And no one can make me a victim unless I make myself the victim. It took me 20 years to accept my insecurity about my teeth, and I'm not doing that again. So, yes, I'm deaf in my left ear. Now what? I got the hearing aid and put it on. Imagine: For the first time in 36 years, there's suddenly sound on your left side. It was overwhelming, but I also felt like Superman. I walked out of the audiologist's and I could hear everything. I could hear the cars behind me on the street. I went into UPS, and a lady put tape on a box, and it felt like nails on a chalkboard. I was like, How is this not a superpower? But then I got in my car and turned on music with the volume just halfway up. I've always loved concerts because it's the only time I can hear music the way everyone else hears it. The first thing I listened to was a Celine Dion song that she sings in French. It was so beautiful to be able to decipher the differences between her voice, the background sounds and the piano. I had tears in my eyes. When I found out I had to wear a hearing aid or lose my hearing, I had thoughts like, What if I'm less lovable? There's this constant fear of being judged — or judging yourself because there are bigger problems in the world, so how dare I feel these emotions? But it's all in our heads. In reality, as an adult, I gave myself something I wasn't able to as a child: I told myself my feelings were important. You have to have those conversations and allow yourself to cry. It goes way beyond hearing loss: You have to be able to accept yourself. I realized that if I kept my hearing aid to myself, it would be a shameful thing. But if I put a video out into the world, it would force me to just be OK with it. I was surprised to get teary while making the video, but once I posted it, it was just this sense of acceptance. We often think we're the only person who experiences those emotions and that shame, whether it's about hearing loss, or your appearance, or ADHD or depression. Your pain can become your identity when you don't know how to deal with it and think that it's the only thing that represents you. But it's not. Once I said it out loud — that I am deaf and need a hearing aid — I didn't feel like a prisoner to my own pain. It's out there, and now I'm free from it. If I hadn't accepted myself, then the first person I came across who didn't was going to break me. But now, you can't break me without my permission. I already cried about it! When I walked outside with my hearing aid for the first time, no one even noticed! They didn't have pity in their eyes. It felt like such a big deal, but that's because I made it such a big deal. This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
I didn't want my millions of followers to see me as 'the deaf girl.' Finally getting a hearing aid has changed all that.
Violet Benson always struggled to hear in her left ear, but it took her years to realizehow big the problem was — and even longer to do something about it. The Daddy Issues meme account creator, podcaster and author — her book comes out next year — kept her hearing loss secret from most people until her 30s. It was only this summer that Benson revealed to her millions of Instagram followers that she'd recently been fitted with a hearing aid. Getting the device, and opening up to her audience, gave Benson back much more than her hearing. In this interview with Yahoo's Natalie Rahhal, she opens up about experiencing new sounds — and Celine Dion — and accepting her full self. Growing up, everything on my left side was always off. As a child, I just assumed everything was better on the right side because I was right-handed. I was born this way: Legally deaf in my left ear, with an enamel deficiency that made my bones weak, including my left leg, which was crooked from birth. I have to assume that it was all because I was born with vitamin D deficiency. I was born in Russia, where, if you're born in the winter, there's no sun. Plus, I was born under communism, when many babies were born malnourished. Once we left Russia, my mother took me to a doctor for a consultation about having surgery to fix my leg. The doctor said to just put me in the sun for vitamin D therapy. And the sun worked! I now have two very straight, very normal, same-size legs, without any surgeries! I was even able to do gymnastics, jazz and ballet until I was 17. But my other health issues persisted. As a child, I didn't give much thought to my hearing because my biggest struggle was with my teeth, which were bad due to an enamel deficiency. People made fun of me, and I was at the doctor or dentist every week; I've had more than 15 root canals. So, my hearing was just not at the top of my priorities list. I first really became aware of my hearing loss after we won the green card lottery and moved to the U.S. when I was 14. I saw my sister talking on the phone. First, she held it on the right side of her head, then she switched the phone to her left side. I was shocked. I asked her how she could hear on her left side. She told me I sounded stupid and that she switched ears whenever she felt like it. That's when I realized: I can't do that. Still, I tuned it out. I told myself, It's not that deep, I'll just deal with it. I think that's a very 'immigrant' mentality. My whole family was living crammed in an apartment, so my hearing didn't feel important compared to the other things we were dealing with. Plus, I'm Eastern European, so I was kind of taught that you hold the pain inside. Instead, I just adapted. I learned to read lips without realizing it. Your brain is such a marvelous organ; mine just learned to adjust to hearing on one side. I would always tilt my head to the right side when people spoke to me. Sometimes people thought I was rude because I would stare at the ground, trying to concentrate on hearing them on my right side. As an adult, I finally told many of my friends that I was deaf in my left ear, so they would just speak to me in my right. But otherwise, I continued to ignore my hearing loss and focus on building the identity that I wanted to have. In my 20s, I got 'celebrity'-style porcelain veneers (the only type that will work on my teeth because you could see the yellow through others) and, for the first time, I felt beautiful. I started my 'Daddy Issues' Instagram account. I had worked so hard to build my confidence and this perfect exterior because I'd rather mask my flaws and make sure no one else could see them. The pandemic was the first time my hearing loss really became an issue. With people wearing masks or standing far away, I couldn't read their lips. I started to feel really embarrassed and uncomfortable, especially if someone was speaking to me with an accent. I wouldn't be able to make out what they were saying because I'm deaf and I couldn't read their lips. But I felt so guilty because I know what it's like to be foreign and have people struggle to understand you. It was exhausting, and I felt so much shame that I genuinely stopped leaving my house for a long time. With the pandemic over and masks off, it got easier. But after a year or two — maybe because I'm aging — I started to struggle again, especially trying to hear people at events or on nights out. Trying to talk to people when there's any background noise becomes really exhausting, and I would get tired and irritable. People thought I just didn't care because I didn't want to have a heart-to-heart in the club. This year, I started to feel like I could hear less and less. I didn't understand why I was getting tired faster than usual when having conversations. After struggling more and more, I finally decided to take a hearing test a few months ago. On my left side, I could only hear very high pitches, and it sounded like I was standing far away from an intercom and someone was trying to speak to me through it. I felt tears fill my eyes, and I started to get overwhelmed. The audiologist told me that my brain was experiencing so much shock. I had no idea how bad my hearing was on my left ear. After the test, the audiologist told me that I have 90% of my hearing in my right ear and 30% in my left. That means I have severe hearing loss. She said that I would slowly lose more and more hearing, including on my right side, because your ears are like a muscle: If you don't use your hearing, it kind of dies off. She said that my migraines, fatigue and irritability were likely due to my right ear working overtime, trying to tune out background noise so I could listen. The audiologist told me that if I don't start wearing a hearing aid, not only will I struggle to understand when other people speak, I'll start losing my ability to pronounce words. People who are deaf on both sides speak differently because they can't hear themselves. That was a big fear for me, because I speak for a living. The audiologist warned me that I needed to take my health more seriously. There were two weeks between the exam and the day that I accepted the hearing aid. I cried about it every day and didn't tell anyone. As humans, we have so many annoying emotions. Part of me felt like I would lose my identity if I had to wear a hearing aid, and people could see it. I worried they would think of me as the deaf girl, instead of the person I've built my identity around: this confident person, the creator of Daddy Issues who gives advice. I felt like the hearing aid was going to take my identity without my permission. And I even felt shame around the fact that I was embarrassed about it. I'm supposed to be this person who tells others to be confident and love who they are. I'd rather be the villain in the story than someone that you pity, and there I was feeling shame about my self-pity. I'm even writing a book that's part memoir, part self-help about how not to be a victim! Then one day, I woke up and was like, Hello, listen to the advice in your own book! I can't control what someone else thinks about me, and while I'm thinking they're looking at my hearing aid, in reality, maybe they think I'm ugly or my personality is annoying. We can make up as many stories as we want about what other people are thinking, but I can only control what I'm thinking. And no one can make me a victim unless I make myself the victim. It took me 20 years to accept my insecurity about my teeth, and I'm not doing that again. So, yes, I'm deaf in my left ear. Now what? I got the hearing aid and put it on. Imagine: For the first time in 36 years, there's suddenly sound on your left side. It was overwhelming, but I also felt like Superman. I walked out of the audiologist's and I could hear everything. I could hear the cars behind me on the street. I went into UPS, and a lady put tape on a box, and it felt like nails on a chalkboard. I was like, How is this not a superpower? But then I got in my car and turned on music with the volume just halfway up. I've always loved concerts because it's the only time I can hear music the way everyone else hears it. The first thing I listened to was a Celine Dion song that she sings in French. It was so beautiful to be able to decipher the differences between her voice, the background sounds and the piano. I had tears in my eyes. When I found out I had to wear a hearing aid or lose my hearing, I had thoughts like, What if I'm less lovable? There's this constant fear of being judged — or judging yourself because there are bigger problems in the world, so how dare I feel these emotions? But it's all in our heads. In reality, as an adult, I gave myself something I wasn't able to as a child: I told myself my feelings were important. You have to have those conversations and allow yourself to cry. It goes way beyond hearing loss: You have to be able to accept yourself. I realized that if I kept my hearing aid to myself, it would be a shameful thing. But if I put a video out into the world, it would force me to just be OK with it. I was surprised to get teary while making the video, but once I posted it, it was just this sense of acceptance. We often think we're the only person who experiences those emotions and that shame, whether it's about hearing loss, or your appearance, or ADHD or depression. Your pain can become your identity when you don't know how to deal with it and think that it's the only thing that represents you. But it's not. Once I said it out loud — that I am deaf and need a hearing aid — I didn't feel like a prisoner to my own pain. It's out there, and now I'm free from it. If I hadn't accepted myself, then the first person I came across who didn't was going to break me. But now, you can't break me without my permission. I already cried about it! When I walked outside with my hearing aid for the first time, no one even noticed! They didn't have pity in their eyes. It felt like such a big deal, but that's because I made it such a big deal. This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Time Magazine
04-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Magazine
Owen Wilson's Stick Sounds Like a Ted Lasso Ripoff. Actually, It's Better
The third episode of the new Apple TV+ golf comedy Stick is called 'Daddy Issues,' but that might as well be the title of the show. Created by Ford v. Ferrari writer Jason Keller, it stars Owen Wilson as a former top golfer, Pryce Cahill, who publicly flamed out 20 years ago. He's been mired in the past ever since, from his job at a sporting goods store to his refusal to finalize the divorce initiated by his long-suffering wife (Judy Greer), move out of their old house, and accept that he's no longer a husband, a father, or a pro athlete. When he spots a surly teen at a driving range, Santi (Peter Dager), who has the makings of a major talent, Pryce sees in this potential protégé a shot at redemption. But Santi, whose now-estranged dad used to push him too hard on the golf course, doesn't exactly relish the prospect of having a new father figure to satisfy. It sounds hackneyed and heartstring-yanking—another comedy that uses sports as a cover to talk about men's feelings and relationships from the platform that brought us Ted Lasso. There are indeed elements of Stick, which premieres on June 4, that come off as pandering; as if a dad-rock soundtrack ('Baba O'Riley,' 'The Boys Are Back in Town') weren't enough, it even rips off Lasso 's earnest folk theme song. While it's a relief that Greer isn't forced to play a harpy, the show can be cringily conspicuous in its efforts to model empathy for women. A self-described 'genderqueer, anticapitalist, postcolonial feminist' character named Zero (Lilli Kay) initially reads as an assemblage of lazy Gen Z clichés that exist mostly in the imaginations of boomers. Yet within the limitations of its formula, Stick works. A trite setup gives way to a looser road-trip vibe after Pryce convinces Santi and his savvy mom (Mariana Treviño) to pile into a RV with him and his cranky ex-caddie (an effectively typecast Marc Maron) for a summer of amateur tournaments. Everyone is low-key lonely, with familial baggage that keeps them from connecting with others. Thankfully, Keller's scripts aren't as twee or didactic about this stuff as Lasso and Shrinking creator Bill Lawrence's tend to be. Nor are his characters cartoons like Ted; most, including Zero, quickly become multifaceted people, courtesy of a cast blessed with unshowy charisma. A game changer it isn't, but Stick still comes out a few strokes ahead of par.
Eater
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Eater
The Best Old Fashioneds in D.C.
View as Map Bourbon or rye, a sugar cube, and bitters. It's a simple drink that focuses on highlighting its base and is a great way to start a meal or end a night. But in a city with creative mixologists and a global palate, an Old Fashioned don't have to stay so, well, old fashioned. Here's just a few places that are taking these three basic ingredients and trying something new: bringing in some sweet, some heat, and a lot more banana than you'd expect. Did we miss your favorite spot? Drop a note at the tipline or email dc@ and we'll consider it for the next update. Read More Eater maps are curated by editors and aim to reflect a diversity of neighborhoods, cuisines, and prices. Learn more about our editorial process. If you buy something or book a reservation from an Eater link, Vox Media may earn a commission. See our ethics policy. Although Cana markets itself as a caipirinha bar (and believe me, they do the signature Brazilian cocktail well), they have one of the city's best new Old Fashioneds hidden away on their menu too. The bar strips back everything you know about the drink, leaving just the bourbon base (but finished with amburana) and then adding its own Brazilian flavors, including guava, banana, and the signature tamarind. Its namesake ingredient gives it a tangy caramel flavor that feels like it could easily be found on a beach in Rio. Signature Old Fashioned at Jack Rose Dining Saloon Jack Rose, with its 2,700 different whiskeys, doesn't make an Old Fashioned. They make the Old Fashioned. Wild Turkey, demerara, and bitters. That's it. This is for the staunch traditionalist who wants an alcohol-forward drink and they want to have it in a dimly-lit room while sitting in a smooth leather booth. If you want to switch it up a bit though, they'd be happy to switch out the Wild Turkey for something else from their robust selection. Alchemist Old Fashioned at The Alchemist Tucked away behind a hidden door, this speakeasy is secretly serving up a simple and smooth Old Fashioned with just a hint of pageantry. As the name would suggest, they love to play with fire at the Alchemist and their eponymous Old Fashioned runs with that idea. Served with a blowtorch and a skull head that looks like something out of Indiana Jones, the drink is smoked at the table while sugar and orange rind are charred beforehand. This brings out a real depth of flavor from every ingredient while keeping things quite traditional. Daddy Issues at Service Bar Recently re-anointed as one of North America's 50 best bars, Service Bar is sure to impress with not one but two Old Fashioned options. While those looking for something traditional and alcohol-forward may want to go with the Whiskey Whiskey, the Daddy Issues is something a bit more unique than your own father's preferred pour. A combination of black cardamom-infused Michter's, fig balsamic, and creme de cacao give it a smoky, verging on umami profile. It is not too sweet but still has the richness of a good dessert making for a great nightcap. Cigar Old Fashioned at Bar Pilar Bar Pilar promises to take you on a journey through Ernest Hemingway's life in Cuba and this Old Fashioned feels like the perfect way to honor The Sun Also Rises author. The focus here is on the blend of Nearest Green bourbon and Laphroaig scotch with just sugar, bitters, and a bit of cinnamon to round it out. It's a stiff drink and makes for a great sipper. There is a reason that this is the first cocktail the wait staff at Korean hit Anju will tell you to order. Taking the light and gentle flavor of Japanese Iwai whiskey and washing it in sesame oil gives the drink a rounded nutty flavor with a creamy mouthfeel. This melts together perfectly with black tea-infused tart cherry juice and rhubarb bitters which makes the whole concoction very refreshing and just a little bit too easy to drink. If you're looking for something a little more classic, the Seoul Fashioned is also available but this one is just too special not to highlight. Capital One Dining Book primetime tables set aside exclusively for eligible Capital One customers. Capital One Dining is the presenting partner of the Eater app. Sign up for our newsletter. With a spectacular Roman cocktail menu (available now through the end of the summer) it makes sense that beverage director Jonathan Henriquez insists on putting on a show for every guest. For the menu that took him over a year to put together, he made sure that every drink has a performative element and he made no exception here. As a small plume of smoke billows out from the top of the skull-shaped goblet, you'll notice a custom-made ice cube (courtesy of the Ice Queen) with a picture of Mount Vesuvius frozen into the center. Henriquez even made sure it was laminated so guests could bring it home as a memento. The drink itself leans on the delightfully smoky side thanks to a port-finished Woodinville bourbon, porcini mushrooms, and Ardberg Uigeadail. Capital One Dining Book primetime tables set aside exclusively for eligible Capital One customers. Capital One Dining is the presenting partner of the Eater app. Draft Old Fashioned at Last Call Bar If you're looking for a no-frills Old Fashioned that goes down smooth and is easy on the wallet, Last Call has what you need and the owners are so confident in it they keep it on draft all year round. It's alcohol-forward for those who don't want something too sweet and, at $8, is by the far the most affordable on this list. Beijing Old Fashioned at Chang Chang It might not be common to sip an Old Fashioned alongside mapo tofu, kung pao chicken, and fried rice but Chang Chang is not your common Szechuan restaurant. The wild banana chai-infused whiskey and cardamom clove syrup give the drink a balanced smoky sweet flavor that lends itself well to the restaurant's spicy menu. Lakhan's Old Fashioned at Tapori Co-owner Dante Datta and manager EJ Apaga take a yin and yang approach to developing their cocktail menu. While Dante is very interested in unique drinks you won't see anywhere else, EJ focuses on elevating the classics. Their perfect Old Fashioned falls more into the latter camp, taking Wild Turkey bourbon and marrying it with a slightly-spicy, smoky chaat masala and the delicious unrefined jaggery cane sugar that is popular across the Indian subcontinent. Ni De Aqui Ni De Alla at Providencia 'Ni de aquí, Ni de allá' is the immigrant experience summarized in a single sentence, describing the complexity of being between two cultures. Co-owners Pedro Tobar and Danny Gonzalez turn this sentence into liquid form; blending together classic Kentucky bourbon with small-batch Oaxacan mezcal. Plantains give the drink a distinctly soft sweetness that radiates through every sip. It reminds us that Latin American ingredients enhance the more traditional flavors of our shared America. Old Fashioned Habits at Dirty Habit Beverage director Aniceto 'JR' Rena knows what you need to start the summer, blending Rowan's Creek bourbon and Uncle Nearest whiskey (named after the original distiller of Jack Daniels) with sassafras sugar and root beer bitters to make for something very refreshing on a hot day. While this gives the drink a subtle vanilla/caramel flavor, it's not overly sweet. Finished off with picked hon shimeji mushrooms, there's always a fun bite at the bottom of your glass (don't be afraid to use a finger to fish them out). © 2025 Vox Media, Inc. All rights reserved. Link copied to the clipboard. Although Cana markets itself as a caipirinha bar (and believe me, they do the signature Brazilian cocktail well), they have one of the city's best new Old Fashioneds hidden away on their menu too. The bar strips back everything you know about the drink, leaving just the bourbon base (but finished with amburana) and then adding its own Brazilian flavors, including guava, banana, and the signature tamarind. Its namesake ingredient gives it a tangy caramel flavor that feels like it could easily be found on a beach in Rio. Jack Rose, with its 2,700 different whiskeys, doesn't make an Old Fashioned. They make the Old Fashioned. Wild Turkey, demerara, and bitters. That's it. This is for the staunch traditionalist who wants an alcohol-forward drink and they want to have it in a dimly-lit room while sitting in a smooth leather booth. If you want to switch it up a bit though, they'd be happy to switch out the Wild Turkey for something else from their robust selection. Open in Google Maps Foursquare Tucked away behind a hidden door, this speakeasy is secretly serving up a simple and smooth Old Fashioned with just a hint of pageantry. As the name would suggest, they love to play with fire at the Alchemist and their eponymous Old Fashioned runs with that idea. Served with a blowtorch and a skull head that looks like something out of Indiana Jones, the drink is smoked at the table while sugar and orange rind are charred beforehand. This brings out a real depth of flavor from every ingredient while keeping things quite traditional. Open in Google Maps Foursquare Recently re-anointed as one of North America's 50 best bars, Service Bar is sure to impress with not one but two Old Fashioned options. While those looking for something traditional and alcohol-forward may want to go with the Whiskey Whiskey, the Daddy Issues is something a bit more unique than your own father's preferred pour. A combination of black cardamom-infused Michter's, fig balsamic, and creme de cacao give it a smoky, verging on umami profile. It is not too sweet but still has the richness of a good dessert making for a great nightcap. Open in Google Maps Foursquare Bar Pilar promises to take you on a journey through Ernest Hemingway's life in Cuba and this Old Fashioned feels like the perfect way to honor The Sun Also Rises author. The focus here is on the blend of Nearest Green bourbon and Laphroaig scotch with just sugar, bitters, and a bit of cinnamon to round it out. It's a stiff drink and makes for a great sipper. Book with OpenTable Book with OpenTable Open in Google Maps Foursquare There is a reason that this is the first cocktail the wait staff at Korean hit Anju will tell you to order. Taking the light and gentle flavor of Japanese Iwai whiskey and washing it in sesame oil gives the drink a rounded nutty flavor with a creamy mouthfeel. This melts together perfectly with black tea-infused tart cherry juice and rhubarb bitters which makes the whole concoction very refreshing and just a little bit too easy to drink. If you're looking for something a little more classic, the Seoul Fashioned is also available but this one is just too special not to highlight. Open in Google Maps Foursquare With a spectacular Roman cocktail menu (available now through the end of the summer) it makes sense that beverage director Jonathan Henriquez insists on putting on a show for every guest. For the menu that took him over a year to put together, he made sure that every drink has a performative element and he made no exception here. As a small plume of smoke billows out from the top of the skull-shaped goblet, you'll notice a custom-made ice cube (courtesy of the Ice Queen) with a picture of Mount Vesuvius frozen into the center. Henriquez even made sure it was laminated so guests could bring it home as a memento. The drink itself leans on the delightfully smoky side thanks to a port-finished Woodinville bourbon, porcini mushrooms, and Ardberg Uigeadail. Open in Google Maps Foursquare If you're looking for a no-frills Old Fashioned that goes down smooth and is easy on the wallet, Last Call has what you need and the owners are so confident in it they keep it on draft all year round. It's alcohol-forward for those who don't want something too sweet and, at $8, is by the far the most affordable on this list. Open in Google Maps Foursquare It might not be common to sip an Old Fashioned alongside mapo tofu, kung pao chicken, and fried rice but Chang Chang is not your common Szechuan restaurant. The wild banana chai-infused whiskey and cardamom clove syrup give the drink a balanced smoky sweet flavor that lends itself well to the restaurant's spicy menu. Open in Google Maps Foursquare Co-owner Dante Datta and manager EJ Apaga take a yin and yang approach to developing their cocktail menu. While Dante is very interested in unique drinks you won't see anywhere else, EJ focuses on elevating the classics. Their perfect Old Fashioned falls more into the latter camp, taking Wild Turkey bourbon and marrying it with a slightly-spicy, smoky chaat masala and the delicious unrefined jaggery cane sugar that is popular across the Indian subcontinent. 'Ni de aquí, Ni de allá' is the immigrant experience summarized in a single sentence, describing the complexity of being between two cultures. Co-owners Pedro Tobar and Danny Gonzalez turn this sentence into liquid form; blending together classic Kentucky bourbon with small-batch Oaxacan mezcal. Plantains give the drink a distinctly soft sweetness that radiates through every sip. It reminds us that Latin American ingredients enhance the more traditional flavors of our shared America. Beverage director Aniceto 'JR' Rena knows what you need to start the summer, blending Rowan's Creek bourbon and Uncle Nearest whiskey (named after the original distiller of Jack Daniels) with sassafras sugar and root beer bitters to make for something very refreshing on a hot day. While this gives the drink a subtle vanilla/caramel flavor, it's not overly sweet. Finished off with picked hon shimeji mushrooms, there's always a fun bite at the bottom of your glass (don't be afraid to use a finger to fish them out). Book with OpenTable Book with OpenTable Open in Google Maps Foursquare
