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Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Dazzler of the Day: Chrissy Flanagan

Every once in a great while, someone breaks through the social media bedlam to touch me in just the right way, providing something I didn’t realize I needed so badly. In the case of this Dazzler of the Day, that magical person is Chrissy Flanagan, and when I stumbled upon one of her videos in which she’s grappling unsuccessfully with a lamp which refuses to remain lit, I laughed – deep, stomach-muscle-building laughter, with tears pouring forth from my eyes – and I was reminded of how much joy there still is in the world if you know where to look for it. 

Flanagan is a former sausage queen (aren’t we all) and has the meaty background to back it all up, but she has recently moved into a new business venture, one which showcases her gorgeously-infectious energy and enthusiasm – it’s called Chaotic Social, and though it’s halfway around the world (greetings Australia!) the spirit she captures on camera for her online outlets carries over the distance without any sort of deterioration. A sausage queen who can sew and paint and conjure colorful enchantment is my kind of person. (Her fashion style alone is giving me life this week.) Check out her beautiful link tree here. 

“The break of up a decade long relationship and subsequent bouts of loneliness have led me – Sydney’s former Sausage Queen, Chrissy Flanagan – to solve others’ desire to make adult friends, as well as my own.

It’s often said Sydney is a particularly tricky place to make friends as an adult. If you miss out on doing any of the big four locally or at all – high school, uni, work, kids – it’s hard to bridge the gap, leaving many of us lonelier than we would like.

And yet, as adults we’re embarrassed or too self conscious to use modern tools such as friend networking apps to solve this problem.

Chaotic Social is seeking to bridge that gap, in the form of classes on weird crafts, mad skills and naked ambition, where you’re encouraged to roll solo and go home with a few new mates in your phone.

While making hectic articles such as creepy dolls, bad badass self portraits and bedazzled tiddie tassels, we will also have big chats and indulge in purely fun sh!t like blue light discos and stand up. Yes there will be games, no participation is not optional.

Formerly co-owner of restaurant The Sausage Factory and brewery Queens of Chaos, my notoriously rowdy and long running sausage classes will continue Sundays at the new venue.”

~ Chrissy Flanagan

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Again… Tomorrow (Or the Very Last Iris)

When we were young I thought I needed the bombast.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I needed the driving guitars, the wall of sound, the driving noise, and the rush and wail of the original version of this song. Back then it carried the power to pull me away from the ledge, and perhaps that’s precisely the drastic and bombastic shove which saved me, something to jolt and shock and force myself into any other state than the one in which I simply wanted to cease existing. That sort of mindset requires a bigger bang than the orchestral song you are about to hear here. Necessary for its time and purpose in life, and long fallen by the wayside in favor of something more sustainable and reasonable. 

These days, I am finding more meaning and resonance in a quieter mode of living. When you’ve had a proper thrashing when you’re young, and lived a few crazy years of fun and wildness, you can have your mid-life crisis, embrace it, and hopefully come out on the other side a bit better for all of it. 

“Such men believe in luck, they watch for signs, and they conduct private rituals that structure their despair and mark their waiting. They are relatively easy to recognize but hard to know, especially during the years when a man is most dangerous to himself, which begins at about age thirty-five, when he starts to tally his losses as well as his wins, and ends at about fifty, when, if he has not destroyed himself, he has learned that the force of time is better caught softly, and in small pieces. Between those points, however, he’d better watch out, better guard against the dangerous journey that beckons to him –the siege, the quest, the grandiosity, the dream.” ~ Colin Harrison

Every time I feel that I might be moving beyond this pocket of danger, and that others in my orbit are safe too, something happens that reminds me we are not quite fifty, not quite to the shore yet. Even the most seemingly-innocuous storm could be the one to take us out – to sea, to loss, to regret, to worse… And I wonder if there will ever be a safe day, a day or time when we can simply relax, let down our guards, and be. I wonder and I hope… and I listen to this song called ‘Tomorrow‘. 

Today in the garden the very last Japanese iris bloomed – through the afternoon storm, and unexpectedly, as I had thought their blooms were already done. This one must have hidden itself in the fading remnants of its predecessors, tricking me into thinking the display was over when really there was one day more of beauty. That’s the magic of a tomorrow – you never know what might show up and bloom for you. 

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Hit It & Quit It

Fresh off this simple post comes another quick hit to loosen things up. It was getting entirely too dense with the detailed and privileged post of whining from this morning, so here is a view of our lace-cap hydrangea, enjoying a banner year in the garden. Happy Friday!

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Another Pet Peeve? What Else!

Why does anyone use these ridiculous things? The concept is lovely, the look is sweet, but the practicality is nowhere in evidence. My first, and last, brush with them came gratefully with some cheap-ass version from Target or Marshall’s, made of plastic, but designed in the same way as these fancier ones from Crate & Barrel. In all the designs I’ve seen, you’ve got to fill the thing with a good two to three inches of whatever you’re drinking before you even reach the spout. For a household of two, that’s already way more liquid than can be imbibed in a single sitting.

And if you do happen to have a party or event where you’re serving a bazillion people, once you come close to finishing the thing, you are left with that same two to three inches of liquid that you must tilt and twist and pour without breaking it or spilling it or swearing up a storm in front of all the kids. 

Don’t even get me started on what happens when all the pretty fruit you are inspired to add clogs the damn spigot. 

I just don’t get it. 

Any of it.

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Dazzler of the Day: Roger Frampton

When you get to be my age (should you ever get to be my age, or if you already have gotten to be my age and decided not to stay) the body begins to slacken and harden into something you never thought it would be. I’ve felt it in recent years – the slowing, the tensing, the hunching, and the general shrinking into itself – and the way I’ve been moving, or not moving, is having a deleterious effect on physical comfort and mental well-being.

Enter Roger Frampton and the idea of stretching to build flexibility and strength, while returning to a more youthful vigor and stance. His first book, ‘The Flexible Body’, is en route to my home as I just ordered it, and I look forward to engaging with the Frampton Method for the rest of this summer, and hopefully beyond. He offers an online training program which comes with a multi-media onslaught of support to help anyone begin or improve upon their fitness regime. For Frampton, it begins and ends with flexibility, and for encouraging us all to get a little more creative and active, he earns this Dazzler of the Day.

Check out his website here for further inspiration. 

The modern lifestyle has revolutionized the way we utilize our bodies, which were not evolved for extended periods of sitting at desks, fixating on screens, or enduring prolonged hours in a seated position.

Whilst our bodies cannot articulate their needs through words, they communicate through signals akin to those of a baby. These signals manifest as pain.

The initial step is to revert to the fundamentals and embark on a journey to restore the inherent movements we were born with. This can be accomplished by cultivating a daily habit beginning with just 10 minutes each day, and then gradually increasing the duration until it becomes as instinctive as brushing your teeth.

Before you bring up your age and contend that immobility is an inevitable part of aging, please take a stroll through the parks in China where you will see ‘elderly individuals’ free from pain and moving as gracefully as they did many years back.

If they can achieve it, there is no reason why you can’t too. I’ve had the privilege of helping people worldwide to transform their lives and reclaiming their true mobility.

~ Roger Frampton

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A Casual Bouquet, A Quick Post

Back in the early days of this blog (twenty years ago!) I would do posts that consisted solely of a few photos, without explanation or given reason. Let’s go back to before…

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Dazzler of the Day: Dave Becker

Recently celebrating three years of sobriety, Dave Becker earns this Dazzler of the Day for his efforts at spreading a sober celebration and lifestyle. He helms the ‘Sober Gay Sunday’ Podcast here (which goes beyond Sundays!) and heads up a Sober Social group in the Boston area – not an area known for its welcoming or warm social activities. Recovery from addiction is a daily, sometimes hourly, effort that lends itself to serious introspection and evolution, and Becker manages to go deep on his podcast while retaining a refreshing candidness that can be an element of joy. This joy is what drives his embrace of sobriety – a word and concept that has historically carried all kinds of somber connotations. These days, sobriety has gotten a much-deserved rebranding into something actually fun – a way to more genuinely connect with others, and a lifestyle that is just as fabulous as those days of drinking without the regret and health risks. Becker is the embodiment of getting up and trying every day as if it’s the first, and sharing his journey to help others along the way. 

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Do All Eye Care Centers Suck?

My eye exam was May 1, 2023. 

As of today, I still don’t have contact lenses.

That’s nine weeks from the time of my first appointment, and I still can’t see.

Let’s go back to May, when this Visionworks debacle began. In truth, my sad and frustrating history with the optometrist goes back further than that – I remember a three-hour wait just for a follow-up appointment in Amsterdam that set the tone for seemingly everything that followed, and I ended up switching eye-care centers every few years due to poor service, but they always end up sucking. Not sure why this is across the board for all the eye places I’ve been – does anyone else know?

As for this latest go round, on May 1st I went in for my 9 AM appointment, and once the doctor arrived (ten minutes late) we had a relatively quick exam and she sent me out with a trial pair of contacts – my first progressives, thank you old age. She advised to let my eyes get used to them and follow up in a week. If they worked out we would order the 6-month batch my feeble eye insurance plan would cover. 

After a week of trying them out, and freaking out while driving because the distance sight just wasn’t there, I went back and said we had to try something else. She arrived ten minutes late again (the waiting room is right where she has to walk in, so it’s not an easy place to sneak in the back and pretend you were there all the time). That said, my time with her was blessedly quick, and she offered a mother progressive lens and I went away for another week.

Same deal – driving was difficult, as was seeing up close, so the progressive lenses were great for a twenty-foot section of world around me – neither up close nor far away – so I went back and said I’d be fine with regular distance lenses and could use the readers I’d grown accustomed to (and finally have in each room of the house). She advised trying a different brand of progressives. Amenable to that, we went with another pair. 

Another week of poor performance, another week of questionable driving, and another appointment where the doc was twelve minutes late. (My appointments were all at 9 AM when the store opened, and apparently this doctor rarely rolled in at the 9 AM mark, so I wondered why they even scheduled appointments for that time.) 

At the 6th week mark I asked if this was some sort of record for contact trials. She laughed and said almost. 

At the 7th week, we broke the record, and I insisted on just doing distance lenses (which is what I thought from the beginning but figured since I wasn’t the optometrist I didn’t know any better). She gave me one pair that almost worked, but not quite, so I went back for week 8.

They had changed out their seating by then; I’d been going there so long I actually witnessed a revamping of the seating. Doc was on time! I took it as a good omen, and the lenses she gave me to try would work as well as we are going to get with my almost-48-year-old eyes. I can live with readers; I can’t live with driving and not seeing anything other than what’s immediately ahead of me. So the distance lenses were a go, and a week later I called the store to order them.

No answer.

I called again the next day, first thing at 9 AM right when they opened in case there was a crowd.

No answer.

Tried later that day.

No answer.

Tried the next morning.

No answer.

Well, you get the idea. 

Finally stayed on the customer service re-routing message and punched in that I was trying to order contacts. Got through to a person at Visionworks who advised that it would be easier if I ordered the lenses online. With my insurance payment already in mid-processing mode, I didn’t think that would work without causing problems, but I stayed on and asked her to help me through that. She took down the lens info I had and after ten minutes said these weren’t available to order online. 

Huh.

The eye doctor prescribed lenses that I can’t order online?

The customer service person said that’s what it looked like, but she would try to call the store herself. I thanked her profusely, saying I just hadn’t been able to get through. And ten minutes later, neither was she. She took my name and number and said a manager would call me back.

The next day, I tried again. Another customer service rep said she would try to contact the store. “Good luck!” I chimed, chipper than a chipmunk in a broken bag of birdseed. A few minutes later she returned. 

“No one is answering at the store so I will escalate this to the territory manager. They should respond in 24 to 48 hours, and since the first call already went out to them this has already been 24 hours.”

On the third business day, I tried the store again.

No answer.

I called customer service, gave the ticket number, and asked if the 48 hour thing was just a joke. It was the same rep from the week before. We laughed – oh how we laughed! She said she would try the store again – before I could stop her I was once again waiting to hold while she dialed a number I knew would not be answered.

Spoiler alert: no answer.

She came back and said no one was answering the phone there. 

“NO!” I shouted. “I don’t believe it!”

And we laughed again – oh how we laughed again. 

She said she would now tag ANOTHER territory manager on this fiasco, and I thanked her for her efforts. 

At this point I am hoping to see something – anything – by Christmas. Because I literally cannot see anything without these contact lenses.

And I am dropping Visionworks after this because they clearly, ahem, don’t care about their clients. 

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

With all this talk of Threads lately, I’d like to remind Mark Loser Zuckerberg and Elon Loser Musk that I started this #TinyThreads series way back on September 22, 2018, preserved in this post for all posterity and proof. Who do I need to sue to get some recognition now? I mean, kiss my ass already

As for this #TinyThreads series, perhaps it’s time to bring it back.

Bringing it and bringing it and bringing it back…

(Also, insider hint – click on the #TinyThreads link below to bring you to the last installment, and then again when you hit that one – that thread will eventually take you back five years, and even if you start your own Threads account now, you’ll never reach that far back.) 

#TinyThreads

{See my very first official Thread below.}

 

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Dazzler of the Day: Laurie Metcalf

While she may be best known for her role as Jackie on ‘Roseanne’ and ‘The Connors’, Laurie Metcalf is more appreciated in my world for her theatrical work, which began in Chicago and continues to her current role in Broadway’s ‘Grey House’ (which simply must be seen to be believed, and then seen again). More on that show later (I just saw it last weekend and, whoa, is there more to say). Metcalf earns this Dazzler of the Day thanks to a long line of impressive performances in myriad stage productions. She is a true shape-shifting chameleon when it comes to taking on a wild variety of characters, inhabiting and finding the heart of each, no matter how difficult or untouchable they may seem. Adding such a human element takes a genuinely understanding and compassionate view of humankind, a heart that can find the connecting thread among all of us. At such a time, that sort of work is necessary, and it’s testament to Metcalf’s craft and talent that she can still bring us together. 

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A Happy Banana

The tropical weather we’ve had of late has made for one very happy banana tree in our backyard. It’s been a few years since I grew one of these, and their tropical vibe melds well with our loose bohemian summer theme. The foliage is the main draw here, with a single gigantic leaf being produced once a week when the weather cooperates. We don’t have a season long enough for this plant to go to fruit, but the leaves are more than enough. 

In our one pot, there may be two bananas – which makes sense for a home with two guys. One variety is plain, as seen above, and the other is beautifully variegated as seen below. Together they make a pretty scene, a dazzling duet to see us through the summer. 

Oh, did I mentioned there is ribbing too? Striking ribbing. 

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Dazzler of the Day: Scotty Dynamo

Actor, DJ and singer Scotty Dynamo handily earns this Dazzler of the Day thanks to a spellbinding career. He crested on social media outlets while maintaining a talent and drive that sets him apart from other social media stars. Engaging with a genuine and honest accessibility, Dynamo connects with his fans thanks to a sparkling personality and earnest desire to entertain. 

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Summer Buzzing

Last year’s dearth of bumblebees is but a memory, as they swarm and buzz around the lace-cap hydrangea, alighting on the purple and pink blooms. Back in full, floating effect, they are the first of my companions on a summer day bathed in sun, basking in the sweet perfume and pollen of the flowers at hand. 

The fragrance of the lace-cap hydrangeas is one of the secrets they keep. Their broad-flowered cousins carry no scent whatsoever, and in exchange for the showiness of those blooms the lace-caps come with a sweet fragrance that is a lighter version of a privet flower. It must be incredibly appealing to bees, as they are happily rummaging through the fields of pollen and nectar. The climbing hydrangea has an even more sweetly pungent bloom, one that drifts throughout the backyard. This relatively smaller specimen still pacs a punch, wafting over the pool as I take a moment to enjoy this summer day. 

My arms slung over a rubber pool float, I let my body dangle weightlessly in the water – the instant relief of gravity suddenly lifted, replaced by the pressure of cool liquid. Summer came with pleasures that seemed unthinkable just half a year ago. It carried its own meditative moments, and as I let the current of the pool swirl me around I caught the sparkle of a dragonfly out of the corner of my eye. It darted closer, then hovered right in front of me, its saucer-like eyes both scary and awe-inspiring. So many creatures saw so much more than we humans ever could. How foolish to think we could ever see it all. 

The dragonfly circled, coming back to hover before me again, then did it a third time, as if to say hello, to make a connection, to dance a little dance across the water. Summer enchantments… 

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Dazzler of the Day: Kim Cattrall

She gave ‘Sex & the City’ its spark and sizzle, and now she’s lending her heat to the current ‘Glamorous’, which Boy Culture, my go-to site for all things gay and fabulous, recently and glowingly reviewed. Kim Cattrall is one of those stars with whom some of us have grown up and now affectionately consider a friend despite having never met her. Personally, I recommend the under-appreciated gem ‘Live Nude Girls’ for a career highlight, which I saw at a Boston Film Festival and absolutely adored. She seemed to be sewing the seeds of Samantha Jones there, and ever since then she’s been proving to be so much more than that, as witnessed by theatrical turns on stage and musical turns as a jazzy chanteuse. She’s earned this Dazzler of the Day thanks to the sheer determination, guts, grit and glamour that it takes to survive in show business all these years. 

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Call me AL… for Azure Lime

With an anniversary coming up, I’m putting this little Tom Ford wish out into the universe, and the timing is ideal as a re-release from Ford’s original Private Blends line is bringing us back. For me, it goes back in more ways than one, making this a sign from the universe, and a connection from one uncle to another. 

Back in the 80’s, my favorite Uncle was visiting us around the holidays, and my brother and I had to find a gift for him. The Amsterdam Mall had a men’s department store – Mortan’s – which sprawled out with tan decor and carpet, and the generally dull but classic trappings of stuffy men’s fashion. At the register was a small tray of cologne with the very basic of offerings. My nose knew nothing then, so one was just as good as another. There was one that came redolent of limes, and since citrus reminded me as much of the holidays as it did summer, that seemed the natural choice. Packaged in what looked like a wicker-wrapped bottle, it was St. John’s West Indian Lime Cologne to the best of what I can remember and discover online now. The red banner of ‘Imported’ across some of the bottle photos looks comfortingly familiar. As for the scent, it was a traditional citrus scent for men, one that has lasted through the decades.

We gave the bottle to my Uncle for Christmas, and he set it on the wooden desk of my bedroom, where he and my Aunt were staying for their visit. Some spilled onto the wood, and after they left – after Christmas and New Year’s were done, after the emptiness and quiet seeped back into our winter world, I leaned into the desk, bringing my nose close to the wood, and inhaling the scent of lime, remembering my favorite Uncle. It was a balm that brought his memory back to me when I was missing him the most. 

As for ‘Azure Lime’ by Tom Ford, I remember trying it years ago, but I wasn’t quite ready for its classic structure and traditional musky dry-down. Being older now, I’ve grown into such a masculine scent where it no longer feels too mature. I’ve also always loved a citrus scent, but for some reason I’ve always been fighting it. The time has come to embrace what we love. Maybe one day when I’m gone, my godson will remember ‘Azure Lime’ when a whiff of citrus comes his way, not knowing why it rekindles the summer of his first birthday… 

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