This summer sparkled and shone like some glittering golden disco ball twirling in the hot beams of a smoldering sun. Maybe there was nothing of substance of seriousness behind it, maybe there was no beating heart to the tin-man/gold-man parading prettily before us, and maybe what was going on inside my head made summer fun largely performative – we had our summer, and it has come to an end. Maybe we’ll make it better next year, or maybe we’ll realize how good we had it and reframe the memories we think we have made. The Solid Gold Summer of 2026 will not be remembered for what happened to us, but what we made happen for ourselves. That’s the very best kind of summer to make anyway. Here’s a link-filled look back at some notable blog posts, and some ridiculous posing to send this golden summer off with some pizzazz. I’ll get back on the horse for autumn – see you in a few…
Father’s Days ring differently now.
Short shorts were the official summer wardrobe.
Someone left the cake out in the rain!
When time is golden. (And when isn’t it?)
Yes sir, Boston can boogie – and we got down at our annual BroSox Adventure.
Are we golden? Not sure about this…
Sure we are – golden summer reflections.
Read my lips, shut my mouth? Never.
Peek the pubic hair, if you dare.
A moment of summer melancholy.
Madonna provided the soundtrack to the summer with ‘Confessions II’ – and it was epic.
People are getting more stupid.
A Speedo moment of contemplation.
Solid gold summer realizations.
Soleil summer hallucinations between my legs.
Summer turns sickly, starting with the sky.
Doffing the underwear in the pool.
Cloudbusting. Still not sure I’m doing it right…
First harvest of the summer season.
Summer reading was a bit of a beast, but worth it. I think. Though I enjoyed this one a bit more.
Per my niece Emi’s decree, this golden summer had a few Egyptian accents to it.
The cutest godson ever turned four!
Meanwhile, our couple-hood turned twenty-six!
A summer weekend in Boston is often spent scuttling between cool spots until the night opens up and provides respite and relief.
Don’t forget that your family is gold.
Briefs and bulge as the years go passing by.
What is there to do in summer? Sometimes… only rain.
An Egyptian mood lent Emi’s recommendation a musical accompaniment.
At the hard turn of summer, another moment of melancholy.
A summer pyramid scheme finds fruition in channeling Cleopatra.
The crux of July and August somehow changes everything; in this case we had a Gold Rush.
A semi-solid gold summer playlist.
A letter to Dad three years later.
All that glitters… or what to do when your crown falls off.
Nicholas Galitzine gives good He-Man.
Feeling my golden cheeky self again. (But not in this gown.)
It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.
The Madonna Timeline returned to match the summer boogie moment.
My secret super-powers revealed.
Throwing August away in a pile of garish accessories and golden beaded sparkle.
The almost-birthday-suit post. (With the requisite bit of navel-gazing.)
A quiet birthday in Boston was precisely how I wanted to pass the marking of my 51st year here on earth. And thanks to Andy that’s precisely what we did.
September – that two-pump chump – came too soon.
Tom Ford’s Noir Extreme closed out the season with a delicious bridge of fragrance.
Candles in the September rain.
Bit of a golden boogie because it’s not quite over yet.
A last golden dance of summer to elongate the season with an extended remix like only Donna Summer can do.
A Boston weekend with my nephew Noah provided the first part of an Ilagan Twins’ Summer Send-Off as Labor Day marked its unofficial ending.
