Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Marline posted this on FaceBook the other day, and while I didn’t have time to do it there and then, here it is with some answers that are longer than one word. Feel free to post it on your FaceBook page because I love reading these about friends.

1. Who are you named after? My parents got my name from a ‘Name Your Baby’ book. It was the 70’s. That’s where my middle name is from too. (It turns out there is also a great author named Alan Bennett, whom my parents are probably hearing about for the first time as they read this.)
2. Last time you cried? Serious crying, a couple of weeks ago. But I welled up two days ago because these are crazy times.
3. Do you like your handwriting? Only when I put effort into it.
4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Pulled pork, because it’s not just a verb.
5. Longest relationship? Almost 20 years.
6. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes – I can’t bear to part with pieces of my body.
7. Would you bungee jump? Probably not.
8. What is your favorite kind of cereal? I haven’t had cereal in years, but there was some granola shit I used to love. And frosted mini wheats. Only the minis.
9. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? No. Lazy fuck.
10. Do you think you’re strong willed? Much of the time. Too much, perhaps.
11. Favorite ice cream? Mint chocolate chip, but I won’t turn down cookies and cream.
12. What is the first thing you notice about a person? How well they listen, and not just to important things.
13. Football or baseball? Go Red Sox!
14. Last thing you ate? Trail mix and lemon ginger tea. Fancy fuck.
15. What are you listening to? Japanese meditation music and some birds.
16. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Nude.
17. What is your favorite smell? Ford. Tom Ford.
18. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Mom. (I hate talking on the phone as a general rule.)
19. Married? Yes.
20. Hair color? Salt ‘n’ Pepa. Supersonic!
21. Eye Color? Brown.
22. Favorite food to eat? All of them.
23. Scary movies or happy endings? This is a poorly-worded question. It doesn’t deserve an answer.
24. Last movie you watched In a theater? I had to check texts with Skip to see that it was ‘The Emancipation of Harley Quinn’ or whatever the longwinded title was. I think we had more fun at the concession stand than at the movie.
25. What color shirt are you wearing? I’m in a robe. A fabulous red silk robe with pink and cream flowers and matching pants. Da fuck are you wearing?
26. Favorite holiday? Memorial Day, because no one ever chooses Memorial Day and it comes at my favorite time of the year.
27. Beer or Wine? No thanks, I’m good. (Never thought I’d say that.)
28. Night owl or morning person? Give me a disco nap and I can do either.
29. Favorite day of the week? Friday. The day before is always better than the day of.
30. Favorite animal? Fox. (What does it say?)
31. Do you have a pet? I am animal enough.
32. Where would you like to travel? Thailand. But I’d settle for Boston. Hell, I’d settle for Albany if it meant I got out of the house.

You came in so quietly I didn’t hear you.

And then you changed so quickly with that weird snowfall, I didn’t recognize you.

And now you stall and pause in fits and starts and I’m already frazzled enough.

Still, you will find your footing and get into your groove, I have no doubt.

Well, I have my doubts. How could anyone not doubt everything at this point?

But I also have my faith.

It’s all we have.

And somehow, it’s enough.

It has to be.

Any weight I may have lost in the past few months is creeping back on thanks to Easter candy and isolation – a bad combination , especially when one has lost the stairs of the office and the mobility that previously allowed for such occasional indulgences. Now it’s non-stop indulgence and a sedentary lifestyle. 

That Easter Bunny has never been a friend of mine. 

And that icebox is too near!

Sometimes snow makes the world prettier than the sun ever could.

Finishing my first full day of working from home, I found a single note of solace in the way that the snowfall picked up as the afternoon wore on: it was not of any great concern to me – we had nowhere to go, and no rush to get there – and so I could embrace the moment, savoring the time – the hours, the minutes, the seconds – of the beauty before us. And so the snow fell, past the first day of spring, past the midday mark, showing no sign of letting up – and it was all good.

I opened the window to breathe in the scent of it. Our winter didn’t give us all that much this year, and surely it wouldn’t last. I worried for the early daffodils by the garage, but there was nothing to be done. It was too late to bring in the buds, so they would have to fend for themselves. Gardening remains a ruthless game, even and sometimes especially at this early stage of the season.

Rather than intone rage and madness at the too-late-for-winter timing (we always get snow in spring – this is upstate New York) I instead chose to celebrate the beauty. As the light was fading from the sky, I watched as the snow nestled into the radial whirls of the Japanese umbrella pine. Somewhere in the distance a few birds sang, unseen and lending an enchantment they don’t usually conjure in the middle of winter. On this afternoon, their song melds nicely with the Japanese flute music that’s playing in the background.

Inside the living room, a stick of cedar incense glows at one end, tendrils of smoke curling gracefully into the air before dissipating with nothing but the sweet scent of cedar ashes drifting through the room. A fern arches its fronds over the edge of its ceramic pot, while a Norfolk Island pine extends its reach beside the couch – portending the green yet to come outside the window.

On this night, the sky is white and gray, before coloring the blanket of snow a deep blue. We do not know what tomorrow will bring. We never do. Yet at this moment, as the snow still falls and the light fades, the beauty outside is seen and felt from within.

Why do some of the prettiest little tea cakes turn out to be the least delicious? It’s as if some cosmic force decrees that in order to be beautiful, we must sacrifice flavor and substance. At least that was the case with a bunch of tea cakes I managed to buy before all hell broke loose in the markets. This little cake looks delectable, like something out of a fairy tale at the precise moment the protagonist was about to faint from starvation.

But the taste? Not at all up to the appearance. It tasted like a lie. Sickly sweet, like store-bought frosting from a can – that gross, manufactured essence of falsity. It leaves one gasping for a hint of something natural and real – butter or vanilla or, Jesus, even Crisco. Anything but the plastic-like putrid fakeness of something masquerading as food.

All that glitters ain’t gold.

Over the years, a few kind and perhaps overly-generous people have told me that this blog offers them some reassurance and escape in what feels like an ever-darkening world. Others have said I occasionally give voice to something they’ve also felt but never knew quite how to express or release. Those are pretty powerful gifts – not what I do here, but what those wonderful friends have expressed. They are gifts to my soul and I will always be grateful for them.

As for the purpose of this blog, which I’ve sometimes pondered over its seventeen years of existence, if it serves as a place of reassurance, escape, calm, entertainment, frivolity, amusement, or fantasy, well, I’d consider that an honor and a privilege. And if it brings a few of my favorite people together, either in stories or simply in having them mention that they’ve read something here, then I’ve done some small part in contributing to our community. I don’t take that lightly, and I hope you don’t find too much hubris in my admission that my voice is one that seems to matter to certain people, especially in times of uncertainty and fear.

The world definitely feels darker than it did a few years or even months ago. I can sense that. As much as I try to keep such somber thoughts on the outskirts of this silly space, they can’t help but seep into the overall arc of our journey here. That’s ok. I like to sparkle; I don’t like to sugarcoat. But for my own sanity, and my own enjoyment, I’m going to do my best to keep things welcoming and light here, accented by bright moments of beauty, riotous bouts of silliness, skin-baring antics of derriere-derring-do, and occasional passages of spiritual intent.

Whenever I pause and think about the purpose of what I do here, it always comes back to creating a cozy little nook of the internet that doesn’t scream or shout with effects or noise or bother, but one that invites the visitor in, welcoming you with a reserved spot on the couch or a leopard-patterned chair, where you can indulge in a cup of tea or a smart cocktail, and we can chat or simply sit in silence reading a cherished book. A place where nothing is forced or difficult, a place where a sense of peace and tranquility calmly floats through all our gentle actions, a place where we can simply be, a place where that is enough.  

Come, sit with me for a while…

Considered by many to be her second divorce album (‘Like A Prayer’ being the first), Madonna’s ‘MDNA’ album, released on this date in 2012, is also considered one of her weaker efforts. I don’t agree with those assessments – this is a pretty kick-ass collection of songs – I just think it suffered from a poor choice of lead-off single, and Madonna’s own movie-focused lack of a promotional push. She gave it a Super Bowl toast and then retreated into movie and tour promos. The track-list is worth a revisit, as is the album overall, which finds her raging against romance while simultaneously reaching out for it, resulting in the very best kind of creative contradiction. 

1. Girl Gone Wild
2. Gang Bang
3. I’m Addicted
4. Turn Up the Radio
5. Give Me All Your Luvin’
6. Some Girls
7. Superstar
8. I Don’t Give A…
9. I’m A Sinner
10. Love Spent
11. Masterpiece
12. Falling Free

For me the trio of highlights are the exhilarating opening track, the pure pop perfection of ‘Turn Up the Radio’, and closing ballad ‘Falling Free’ which was helmed by ‘Ray of Light’ guru William Orbit.

This marks the first week I’ll be working from home, and I’m very afraid I won’t be very good at it. In many respects, I’m an old-fashioned guy, a Virgo addicted to structure and most at home within a rigid regiment of scheduling and organization. Plus I can’t imagine what everyone is going to be wearing. That’s a horror show I just don’t want to entertain. Anyway, on with the recap, as there will likely be more missives from the home-front now that we’re stuck here for the foreseeable future. That’s Life. 

A parade of Hunks now seems like such a quaintly superficial exercise in prettiness, and in times such as this it’s imperative that we keep such nonsense going. 

The world seemed to fall apart before our eyes. News changed by the minute, and drastically so, and suddenly it felt best to face everything head-on with the simple realization that we are most definitely fucked. 

St. Patrick’s Day got lost in the shuffle, but we have this gingerific post of hot red-headed gents to remind you of the reason for the season. 

How to fly under the radar while wearing hot pink Tom Ford boxer briefs. 

Botanical fireworks were the only explosions I wanted to see or sniff.

The first day of spring came early this year, at odds with the hopeless sense of foreboding that was otherwise going around. Still, spring came despite everything else, and there’s a small seed of happiness in that. 

For those parents or guardians stumped on how to fill a day with activities for the cherubs stuck at home, I give you Uncle Al’s Guide to Home-Schooling: Completely and Totally Untried Tips & Tricks for Kids and Shit. 

A week like this required some breathing room, something to which we may have to become quickly accustomed. 

Being alone takes practice. I’ve had years, but no one could prepare for the world as it currently is. I wish us both luck.

A few friends have indicated they’ve had trouble sleeping of late. To combat that, I compiled a post of 231 links for anyone who needs to be knocked out by the mediocre and mundane miscellany I’ve posted here for the past seventeen years. 

Things got somber and serious for a moment, and as our stores and offices and places of worship and gathering go dark, I offer this as a wish that we may find each other here and on other social media platforms. Isolated but not alone. 

Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ album celebrated the anniversary of its release in 1989. Times were simpler then. I wanna take you there…

And speaking of the 80’s, here is my underwear-clad homage to ‘Weird Science’ and all its crop-topped glory. Who knows what my closets might cough up this week? 

Hunks of the Day included Dominic Albano, Matthew Dempsey, Telly Leung, Russell Todd, Tom Goss and Sam Morrison.

Every now and then I have a moment of learning that happens in real time, not in retrospect, and I am completely aware it is happening as it happens. Most recently it occurred at a coffeehouse across the street from my office building. It was on my last full day at the office before we began isolation. All I wanted on my lunch break was a coffee and a cookie, preferably served with a minimum of small talk and chatter.

The barista lit up when I walked in. A sign indicating that they were only doing take-out orders, and that people could no longer use mugs brought in from home, hung on the door. The times were changing at a rapid pace. Already downtown Albany was largely deserted. Most of the places that had been open since I started my first state job in 2001 were closed. There was an apocalyptic feel in the air, a strange sense of doom and foreboding. Spring had arrived, but it was cloaked in a strange sickness. I remained upbeat, closing the door behind me and ordering a coffee and a kitchen sink cookie. If this was the last time I would be in this coffeehouse, I’d be damned if I didn’t get a cookie.

I asked how long they were going to be open and he said as long as payroll can afford to keep people on, they’d be open. I was happy to hear it. I didn’t know then that I wouldn’t be downtown for a while, and all I cared about was the supply of coffee and cookies ~ something that suddenly seemed to be in danger. He continued talking, always a risk when you open up a line of seemingly-innocuous questioning, and often why I tend not to engage. My inner voice sighed and started its usual loop of ‘Please stop talking to me, please stop talking to me, please stop talking to me’ while my real voice said empty words of agreement, my head nodded up and down, and my eyes darted elsewhere.

Then he paused as he handed me the cup of coffee. “It’s not really about business or payroll, it’s about this, and he motioned to me and our interaction, “It’s about the social connection.” My inner voice was about to make a sarcastic quip, but stopped itself.

“You’re right,” I said out loud.

I turned to go out the door and looked back, wanting to say something more, but he was already back on his phone, head down and typing away. I guess our limited social exchange was enough for the moment. 

The next day, most of our office was sent home. I thought I would be relieved at the news ~ and health-wise and social-distance wise I am. Yet as much as I know it’s for the best, I’m conflicted. As I looked at Marline and later at Skip doing his FaceBook live posts to reach out, I realized how difficult it would be for everyone else, especially those for whom social interaction is such a vital and important part of their make-up. My heart broke a little as I said a quick goodbye to Sherri and Jen, and I understood that I might not see my friends for a while. Lorie drove me home and I was grateful for one last bit of time with her. Later that day, Suzie dropped off a board game ~ Life, no less ~ that I had asked for in service of a photo shoot. I had assembled a bunch of ridiculous nonsense for her and her family in a large shopping bag, so we made a quick exchange. She stood a good ten feet away as I hovered in the doorway. Maybe I need people more than I realize. Maybe I’m a bit more social than I thought I was. Maybe this is loneliness.

Any socially-anxious introvert will gladly tell you that being in isolation is not exactly a bad thing. To be honest, I was waiting for the opportunity to try it out, to see how enjoyable it would be for those of us who have to muster an enormous reserve of energy simply to get through an average day of interacting with people ~ strangers, friends and family alike. What I was not expecting was the wave of empathy and emotion that came from seeing how it affected others. People like my friends Chris and Marline and Skip are at their best when they are surrounded by friends and loved ones. They need that physical engagement and interaction, they need that connection. They need that hug. It’s what helps them thrive and survive in this crazy world. 

The guy at the cafe reminded me of that, and as I headed home for who knew how long, my heart broke not for my loneliness, but for theirs.