Monthly Archives:

April 2015

Madonna, Top Hat & Ghosttown

If the sneak teasers are any indication of what the actual video will be like, I’m already completely entranced by Madonna’s new ‘Ghosttown’ single. While it was supposed to premiere yesterday on some trendy, or not-so-trendy, app, it appears to have been delayed to today. Any minute, it’s due to be unveiled, and I can’t wait. The look is the same one that Madonna sported on her recent Taylor-Swift-aided performance, and it’s perfection. Give me a corset and a top hat and I’m a happy guy.

‘Ghosttown’ is a highlight of her ‘Rebel Heart’ masterpiece, and looks like one of those sleeper anthems that resonates in a quieter, more profound, and more lasting way. Haunting and elegiac, yet imbued with grace and hope, it’s one of Madonna’s finest efforts, sidestepping trends with a timelessness, and somehow an entirely-of-the-moment urgency.

When it all falls, when it all falls down

I’ll be your fire when the lights go out

When there’s no one, no one else around

We’ll be two souls in a ghost town…

Leave it to Madonna to find a sliver of beauty in this post-apocalyptic world, some small ray of hope and gorgeousness that transcends this mad, mad world.

UPDATE: Here is the video, in full… and it’s a masterpiece.

Continue reading ...

Burst of Crocus

The island in the middle of Braddock Park features a fountain and a line of trees protected by a wrought-iron gate. Beneath the trees are patches of ivy and a few clumps of spring flowering bulbs. The first – these lavender-hued crocus – are a bright burst of happiness, and one that I was not expecting. We’re behind because of all the snow, but we’re getting there, and my heart jumped when it caught sight of these beauties.

I planted a great number of crocus in the backyard back in upstate NY, but with all the hungry squirrels and chipmunks it’s unlikely that many of them survived. For some reason if they make it through the first season they’ll usually last. It’s the first season that’s the most dangerous. The animals sense newly-disturbed ground and smell the seductive relatives of saffron, feeding upon the corms in the fading warmth of fall. We’ll see if any made it through the wilderness. I’ll remain hopeful.

I’ll also keep trying, because there is no greater harbinger of spring than these happy blooms. From the dreary brown and gray detritus of winter, the bursting of the crocus gladdens the weariest of hearts.

Continue reading ...

On Golden Wings

For the first time in my life, I’m on a waiting list for a pair of shoes.

Not just any shoes: a pair of sneakers.

Yes, sneakers.

But if I can deal with L.L. Bean rubber on my feet, I can get on board with these Adidas. Especially if they’ve got wings. Gold wings. Designed by Jeremy Scott. It doesn’t get more exciting than that, and if anyone’s going to get me into sneakers on a regular basis, it’s Mr. Scott and his brilliance. My hat goes off to any guy who loved wings as much as I do.

I’ve had some shoe obsessions in the past, but they were in the fantasyland of Tom Ford. Nice to fantasize about, but at four grand most decidedly unattainable in the real world. At a price point below $300, these sneakers are something I can justify. I can already see golden dreams in my future.

“Fashion visionary Jeremy Scott’s latest iteration of his beloved winged shoes, these Wings 3 sneakers feature a lustrous gold metallic upper and futuristic spiky wings that sweep energetically across the upper. They’re finished with Jeremy Scott’s signature on the heel.”

I will channel Icarus, I will channel Mercury, I will channel Apollo ~ and I will fly like the sun-kissed phoenix.

(As soon as my number comes up.)

 

Continue reading ...

Blue Boston Brilliance

A blue sky after a very gray winter can be a boon to the soul, and Boston offered one of its most blue moments this past weekend. There were a few rain showers, but in-between I got a peek at what’s been hidden all this time. Though the wind was the strongest I’ve experienced in a while, the sky was mostly clear but for some swiftly-moving bands of clouds, captured here in the reflection of the John Hancock Tower.

Beside the mighty tower, the warm hues of the dwarfed Trinity Church provide the history of old and relatively new encapsulated in one gorgeous juxtaposition. That’s one of the most charming aspects of Boston – the old and the new beautifully co-existing and forging a future together.

As for my visit, I accomplished much: a major spring cleaning, in four separate stages (vacuuming/dusting, floor mopping, bathroom, and the carting out of garbage). Setting the stage for Boston weekends to come this spring, this annual rite of passage always makes me happy. I live in the anticipatory moments, in the times of preparation and planning. Good times with Kira and JoAnn are in store…

Continue reading ...

Easter Monday Recap

Now that He is Risen, may we all get back into the groove? It’s been a week of high holy madness, with a (hopefully) final resolution of all my bunny issues, and a slightly more poignant Easter memory of my grandmother.

It was also the week I returned to Boston after a snow-blocked winter.  There’s nothing better than a Market Daze.

Confessions: I slept with a woman.

And Tom Daley went full-frontal on us.

And you won the lottery.

In the midst of all the holiness, a holy backlash.

A pair of Holy Hunks: Pietro Boselli and Aaron O’Connell.

It ain’t the meat, it’s the motion.

A Boston Tea Party, minus the hate.

If I were married to a woman, it might look something like this. And that’s no laughing matter.

Finally, Nick Jonas got all nude and naked on us. Happy Easter indeed.

Continue reading ...

Nick Jonas & More Nude GIFs

Nick Jonas has solidified his status as worthy and willing Hunk with all the times he’s removed his clothes in the past year or so. Starting with the Instagram shot heard round the world, and following up stunningly with his fittingly chosen magazine cover for ‘Flaunt,’ Mr. Jonas has come into young adulthood in sexy fashion. Further proof of his penchant for taking his clothes off is evidenced here, and in GIFs from another instance where he appeared in the buff. Yes, we still get jealous…

Continue reading ...

Gram’s Jewelry Box

Most of the Easters of my childhood were spent in scratchy starched miniature three-piece suits, stuffily sitting at a tiny kids’ table in my Grandmother’s apartment in Hoosick Falls. After being forced to go to church, we’d load our Easter baskets into the car and make the hour-long drive from Amsterdam for a lunch of ham and potatoes, and a dessert of chocolate treats.

Somewhere there’s a photo or two of my brother and I sitting beside two huge pastel-colored baskets, grinning ear-to-ear with the beautiful bounty of sugar before us.

As much as we loved our Gram, something about the whole formality of the day dampened what should have been an otherwise-happy occasion. As any good Catholic knows, Easter is the real high holiday of the religious year. Christmas gets all the gift-laden glory, but the resurrection is where the real power is at. Anyone – in fact everyone when you think about it – can be born. Only one guy was born again and brought back to life. (That’s how the story goes, at least, even if I was unclear as to where JC went after escaping that cave and leaving his clothes behind. Naked guys couldn’t get nearly as far today without incident.)

Catholic confusion aside, my brother and I focused on the treats of the day, and worked to extricate ourselves from the watchful eyes of our parents and doting grandmother. We’d invariably shed our jackets, untuck our shirts, and lose our clip-on ties.

If we ate most of our lunch, we’d be excused to explore the bedroom and guest room, leafing through Gram’s books and playing her music boxes. While ‘Misty’ played from a spinning trio of porcelain ships, it was a rose-lacquered music box clock that played the waltz that would forever signify my grandmother.

As a braille-like drum turned and plucked bands of stiff metal, the magical pluckings of the music boxes filled the wooden surrounds of Gram’s bedroom. As each one slowed to a sad stop, we’d wind them up again, as tight as they would go, and the music sped up in a way that made us smile. Such was the excitement of Easter morning for two little boys in Hoosick Falls.

Of greater interest to one of those boys was a jewelry box that held all sorts of sparkling confections. If I have any notion of how to accessorize, it’s largely from these early days of rummaging through my Gram’s jewelry. Though most of her belongings were garish costume pieces (my favorite) a few held great value, such as the ones seen here. It was a lesson that informed the rest of my life: the most ostentatious-looking items weren’t necessarily the most valuable. That would be our little secret.

In her own way, Gram taught me what really mattered, and though we could glitter and glam up with the best of them, the love between a Grandmother and her grandson was worth more than the prettiest diamond and the bluest sapphire.

Continue reading ...

Easter Bunny Bedlam

Having been scarred for most of my life by an early lap-dance on a frightening Easter Bunny, I decided to turn this holiday around a couple of years ago with this unplanned encounter with my nemesis. While that went a long way toward repairing my warped view of the seasonal celebrant, it didn’t complete exorcize the demon from my nightmares. That would take another twist, and this year I think I’ve finally worked through that Easter bunny madness in my own underwear-clad manner. A string of pearls aided in the transformation, and ~ VOILA! ~ a new meaning for our risen Lord was born this way.

Sometimes the only way to confront a childhood trauma is to face it head (and underwear) on.

Burberry briefs and bunny ears may not be your idea of conquering fear, but in my case they worked wonders.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Easter without posting the original Scary Easter Bunny shot that led to a lifetime of haunted nights. So many people have told me that this is their favorite photo of me, which basically means I need a new group of friends. The sheer terror on this little boy’s face says more than any ensuing therapy confession ever could.

Continue reading ...

A Laughing Matter

There’s no greater joy than dissolving into uncontrollable laughter with an old friend over nothing. As you can see from the evolution of these photos, I tried to be serious, but ultimately failed. Kira held it together much better, but her expression seems more confused (and therefore more hilarious) than anything else. Like so many who know me so well, my antics don’t register as anything more than typical nonsense. All in a day.

We tried to do a more meaningful photo set earlier in the day, but these lighthearted shots are more indicative of our easygoing, enjoyable relationship. I’ve known Kira for almost seventeen years, and in that time she’s become like family. I’ve never needed that more than I have recently, so seeing her in Boston last weekend was a boon to my heart.

She’s one of the few people in the world around whom I am completely comfortable to be myself, and to let my guard down. Hell, I even got into bed with the woman. (Despite what you may have heard in the past, I don’t usually do that. I like a healthy three feet of distance between me and the closest person, and woe to those who violate that issue.)

She’s like a sister to me, and someday I’ll go deep and try to figure out why I seek out substitute parents and siblings who will protect and make me feel safe. Kira does that ~ in her unassuming kindness, in her supportive, helpful way, in her genuinely good-hearted nature. It is one thing to act out of forced familial obligation, quite another to actively choose to be kind and interested in someone.

As you can tell from the evolution of these photos, we always deteriorate into laughter, no matter how hard I try to be serious. That ease and release is something I treasure above all else. It’s rare and it’s precious and it’s the only way I’ve known to feel like all is right with the world.

Continue reading ...

Portrait of a Marriage Not Mine

While broken marriages are not usually a laughing matter, sometimes a little joke is exactly what is needed to put things in perspective and move on with your life. To that end, Kira and I worked through her relationship woes with a few staged photos meant to depict the waning days of a marriage. We only got two semi-serious shots out of the whole thing (the comical test shots are coming up because they make me laugh hysterically) which is actually a good thing. Reaching the stage where you can laugh at something is the final part of the healing process.

Intended to portray two people at the end of their ropes, at the very moment between hanging on and letting go, these pictures hint at darkness, and the dimming of the romantic idealization of love. Heavy stuff for two silly friends just filling a Saturday afternoon. There is more than a little cathartic magic in make-believe.

Continue reading ...

Boston Tea Business

My long-awaited return to Boston finally came to fruition last weekend (with a possible repeat visit this weekend to execute a proper spring cleaning). I didn’t quite get around to scrubbing the floors because of all the fun I was having with Kira, who at long last cut her hair off and listened to what I’d been advising for almost two decades. It looks amazing, and has instilled a self-described new confidence in her life. (She’s already asking me to go skydiving with her.) While the weather outside was far from spring-like, we ventured forth undaunted. Too long had it been since we’d pounded the Boston pavement, and both of us were feeling a little stir-crazy. Still, there were moments of pause and rest, such as in this tea stop at the condo. After a snowy walk to the new Whole Foods Market deep in the South End, we stopped for a warming lunch of pho in Chinatown, then returned to the condo for a mid-afternoon siesta.

The importance of a breather in the midst of a long day cannot be overestimated. A lot of people assume my entire life is one long breather, but that’s because I work so hard to make it appear so effortless. It takes a lot more than tea to get through some days, but on the days when tea is enough, such as when I’m lucky to find myself in the company of a dear friend, it’s precisely what is needed. Especially when Boston just can’t move beyond the snow.

Continue reading ...

The Running of the Meat

It’s almost blasphemous to post this on a day like Good Friday, but such is the state of this blog. When in doubt, blast out the blasphemy! God strike me down if I did you wrong, this is not a love song! I saw these crazy kids running in Boston during last weekend’s snow Saturday. Weather be damned, they were going to get their meat run on if it killed them. I was in a far less celebratory mood, barely containing my disgust in my winter parka, and certainly not running around like a lunatic in a hamburger costume. (And I almost always love a costume, especially in an unlikely place – which is basically anywhere when you’re a hamburger.)

Continue reading ...

Holy Backlash

Mike Pence, Governor of Indiana, has gotten himself into a bit of a pickle with his Religious Freedom Restoration Act, which paves the way for legalized discrimination against gays and lesbians. I’ve been galvanized by the swift and strong reaction to Governor Pence’s proposal. The problem for Pence and anyone who doesn’t believe in equality is that the majority of people are no longer going to allow such thinly-veiled acts of discrimination to exist without a battle – and that battle isn’t yet harming gays and lesbians, it’s hurting the state of Indiana. Hardly effective leadership for someone who is, say, the Governor.

If the growing boycotts and unprecedented backlash against Pence and his problematic religious freedom fight are indication of anything, it’s that this country, and this world, will not stand for discrimination against the LGBT community. It’s simply unacceptable to treat a gay person as anything less than a human being. We have the same rights and privileges as any other human being.

For me, it’s pretty simple: if you are open to the public, you have to serve the public. Gay, straight, black, white, Christian, Muslim, mean, nice, pretty or ugly ~ everyone. Do you have to become gay if you serve a gay person? No. Do you have to stop believing in Jesus Christ if you serve a Buddhist? No. Do you have to give up your Prada bag if you serve someone wearing Crocs? No.

We’ve had this argument before, but the world has changed and evolved a lot in the last few years. As the vitriolic response to Pence has proven, setting the stage for discrimination is not only bad policy, it’s bad business. I don’t feel the need to pontificate upon it any further, and the good thing is that there are other far more powerful entities willing to do so. The corporate world is standing against it and taking millions of dollars away from Indiana. Sports teams are considering pulling their biggest events out of the state. Other governors have banned travel and non-essential trips to the state of Indiana. The irony is that Mike Pence’s religious freedom act, far from helping or aiding Indiana, has served only to harm and inflict financial pain upon its own constituents. That’s the problem with anything rooted in hatred: the underlying nature of the beast will ultimately devour itself.

Continue reading ...

Tom Daley’s Leaked Full-Frontal Shots

There will likely be more leaking than what Tom Daley has already inspired here due to these photos, and while this has traditionally been a full-frontal-free zone, there’s one day a year when those rules go out the window. These are the Tom Daley full-frontal shots that are about to shake all the fruit from the gay tree.

But first, a few teaser pics because you can’t do the big reveal without a few lead-ins…

Mr. Daley has come close before, with a naked butt shot (allegedly) and tons of Speedo pics, but nothing approaches the majesty of his member…

And nothing gives me more glee than another April 1st post.

{See also the full-frontal shots of Ben Cohen and David Beckham.}

Continue reading ...

My Straight Sex Scandal (With Photos)

Move over Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian, my sex scandal involving a woman is about to hit the sheets – I mean the streets. Rather than let rumors and stories circulate, rather than allow speculation to run wildly rampant, I’m going to put it all out here and let you get it straight from the source.

Years ago, my friend Kira and I went out for an after-work shopping expedition to some mall outside of Boston. A friend and co-worker offered us some weed, but we each steadfastly refused. I just didn’t do it, but Kira’s explanation was more succinct, and I quote: “If I do that I will make love to Alan right here in the backseat of this car!” Obviously, I pushed the pot as far away from Kira as I could.

Cut to this past weekend in Boston. While there was no pot involved, one photo shoot led to another and before you know it we might as well have lit up a doobie or swallowed a batch of funny brownies.

You know my motto in life: hit it and quit it.

And you know my other motto on days like this: Happy April Fool’s!

Continue reading ...