When all else fails on a new album promotion plan, it’s often wise to go shameless, and shirtless. Justin Timberlake has employed such a shirtless move in the past, and it’s worked. Now that his new album isn’t quite the blockbuster success previous efforts have been, we get just a hint of former naked glory in the featured shot here. Isn’t it as revealing or provocative as previous poses and pics? Not even close. But maybe a tease is better than a blatant delivery? Meh… not in these parts.
When they make you put on something this atrocious with your ass just hanging out, how does one’s blood pressure do anything BUT go up? Ridiculous. Anyway, I have reached the age of scheduled colonoscopies and shit (hopefully not in close proximity to each other) and here I am modeling the latest in Physician Examining Room apparel (put that on your roster of ballroom looks). If anybody knows anyone who can get me in for the ass-probing in the near future around the Albany area, please DM me. It’s all but impossible to get anyone to look at my ass these days, and scheduling a colonoscopy is proving just as difficult. Oh what a changed world…
Along with Judy Garland, Billie Holiday has one of the most poignant, powerful, and moving voices in musical history. Both women were dealt difficult hands in life, and both seemingly did the best they could do with their immense talents, outrageous expectations, and the basic impossibility of being a woman at any stage of our human existence. To palpably convey such heartache is an art in itself – to do so with the exquisite gorgeousness that an artist like Billie Holiday can conjure is the stuff of the sublime, and we are all blessed for having heard it.
Here she sings ‘Some Other Spring’ and it’s the vibe of the week now that we’re in season.
You are invited to pause in whatever you’re doing, take a minute or two for yourself, and listen to this spring song. Make it a mini-meditative moment, the way any pause in the day can be if you focus and allow the worries in your mind to pass, even if it’s temporary. Put a pin in them – they aren’t going anywhere – and allow your mind and body to relax. With practice, this can happen at any point, under any duress. When the spring storms arrive, because they always do, you will be ready.
Thirty-five years ago, the bedrooms of many burgeoning gay boys were filled with the incense-like fragrance of patchouli, the hold-over hippie scent from the 60’s, thanks to Madonna including it as part of the packaging for the ‘Like A Prayer’ album. For perhaps the first time, a musical artist was pushing the notion of the artistic listening experience into one that went beyond sound and sight and included an actual scent. It was a powerful moment for me – not only being my first brush with patchouli (contrary to popular belief, I was not alive in the 60’s) but also my first experience with how an artistic project could be so powerfully immersive for the consumer and viewer. It was also a lesson in how scent can be one of the most power memory triggers, bringing us back to a time and place more effectively than any other sensory stimulus.
Since that time, patchouli has held a special place in my heart, though these days it’s in a more refined form, such as this delicious fragrance from the House of Guerlain Paris – ‘Patchouli Ardent’. Here, the patchouli runs through the fragrance arc, its golden threads shimmering at each stage of development, while a magnificently rich rose note works a velvety floral into the mix. At the start, some pink and black pepper brings a spicy accent to an almost-fruity and figgy voluptuousness, while a woody smokiness lends echoes of Tom Ford’s ‘Oud Fleur’ and Frederic Malle’s ‘Portrait of a Lady’ (both of which I adore). Meanwhile, layers of leather reveal themselves as it settles down, taking it blessedly further from the edge of sticky sweetness (the danger zone of many a rose and patchouli duet).
Taken together, this is a powerful perfume, perfect for these blustery days that feel more like winter than spring, when you need a little richness in the arid and barren landscape. The patchouli is prettily present throughout the story, bringing its years of memories into my mind, taking me back decades to a world that feels enchanted, as much by the rose-tinted-glass frame of time as by the sweet innocence I held onto as a thirteen-year-old boy.
Still enraptured by the new twist that Madonna gave to this iconic corset, I’m posting another pic of the ensemble from her Oscar party. That’s about all I have the energy or desire to do right now, so take a look back at the week that came before in this typical Monday morning recap.
As mentioned, Madonna reworked her magical reinvention powers here.
The Madonna Timeline was back with ‘Joan of Arc’ from the glorious ‘Rebel Heart’ era.
Maluma took some of it off for Playgirl.
Better looks at that Madonna reinvention.
Carnations and stock make for a beautiful pair.
Green and lavender love in a cup.
My fake-smiling skills have been honed to steely perfection. That still doesn’t make it right.
A shirtless Lenny Kravitz, John Cena, Zac Efron and more!
Career goals have been supplanted by retirement goals, which is the way life should be.
Dazzlers of the Day included the luminous likes of Eric Andre, Mickey Boardman, Ian Paget, Bobby Ilagan, Gina Yashere, and Nicholas Capolino.
This is a post in which I have absolutely nothing and everything to say, and I expect it to be largely a mess, the way the end of winter is so often messy. It will also be blessedly brief, for both our sakes. My allergies have come early, mold and mites and a bunch of things that were never quite properly killed off with a righteous blast of the freezing spells that once characterized our winters are in full effect, undimmed by this relatively warm season. Unburied by snow and ice, such tiny monsters are wreaking their havoc, leaving me with the infuriating feeling of being constantly on the edge of a cold, with sinuses that sting and a nose that runs at only the most inconvenient of times. And exhaustion, regular and debilitating exhaustion that is entirely unwelcome when there is so much to be done.
This little crocus is the first sign of floral life, but I’m not counting on it to bloom. Chipmunks usually eat its head off before it can give us a proper show, and I find life is better spent not expecting anything great, and then being happily surprised if such good events are destined to happen. All we have is the here and now.
The back patio is a shambles. Our canopy has been disassembled, and we need to rent a dumpster to get rid of two broken-down canopies. I need to paint a bathroom somehow. And the yearly yard clean-up, always one of the most onerous and back-breaking tasks, looms immediately on the horizon provided there is no rain. My spirit is dampened and I’m seeking (and failing to find) the ambition and drive to make much of this happen beyond a few half-hearted minor motions per day. (On the evening of this writing, I moved some turtlenecks from the guest room closet to the attic. That would be it.)
So let this crocus inspire you, and me, and the whole coming onslaught of spring. Godspeed to us all.
Hey, at least we’re not in the royal family. Silver lining.
In our antiquated and stubborn time system, we lost our annual hour this past weekend, and the less said about it the better. I’m also at a loss for words because I’m wiped out. Not a good state in which to find yourself at the start of the work-week, but here we are. On with the weekly recap…
Wayfair went the way of Pier 1 in my life, and it’s for the best.
Looking up in Albany.
Flowers make all the difference in all the ways.
Proof of the former is in this ravishing ranunculus post.
The most beautiful glass isn’t entirely clear.
A Boston tease, please.
An end-of-winter Boston adventure with Kira provided a brief respite that won’t be seen again until summer.
A naked John Cena at the Oscars.
Dazzlers of the Day included Caitlin Clark, Colin Grafton, Joe Phillips, Sarah Millican, and Jonathon Nason.
The long but not terribly unkind knot of winter slowly unravels, and plans for future guests slowly take shape for the warmer seasons. Preparing for guests is one of life’s happier experiences, and I’ve leaned into and loved it ever since I was a kid and we would eagerly begin getting ready for the all-too-rarely occasional visit from family or family friends.
This year, it begins slowly, as I start to take apart the canopy that saw its last bit of shade giving-life depart thanks to a squirrel’s sharp claws, which made razor-quick shreds of the worn canvass. It’s another neglected bit of wreckage left from last summer, when I couldn’t even bring myself to take down the candy for the winter season. Maybe part of me knew it was time for a new set-up.
As the temperatures crawled closer toward fifty degrees, I stepped outside in the late afternoon and began unscrewing the rusty bolts, freeing the posts from their wooden base, and piling up all the dirty pieces in the side yard. Later we will rent a dumpster and get rid of two canopy sets that now sit cluttering up the side of the house. All in the name of creating a beautiful space.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
In our main bathroom, a new vanity mirror cabinet finally hangs on the wall above the sink. The lighting demands a different paint job, another task that feels onerous, overwhelming, and impossible. Eyeing the walls wearily, I make a mental list of what will be needed – tape, paint, paint brush – because no matter how many times I paint a room, I never save the brushes. The idea of preparation may be its own source of inspiration. The feeling is familiar, the feeling is fine.
This marks Day Five without a fully-functioning bathroom thanks to Wayfair’s dismal installation service, so I want to again strongly dissuade anyone from ordering from Wayfair, and most importantly I adamantly advise against ever utilizing their installation service, in this case Angi.
We ordered a mirror/light/medicine cabinet for our bathroom, which arrived fully assembled at 4 feet wide, 32 inches tall, and 115 pounds. It looks like a great item, and I also paid for the installation service. We took out the original light and cabinet on Wednesday night, for the scheduled installation on Thursday morning at 7:30 AM. After no one showed, we got a text at 8:30 from the Angi “Pro” saying they weren’t coming. I rescheduled for Saturday morning, and tried to impress upon Angi and Wayfair that this would require at least two people to install. They argued that I would have to order a second ‘pro’ to come and pay for that out of pocket. They also said it might be good to wait until Saturday to see if one person could do it.
On Saturday, the second ‘pro’ arrived and indicated there was no way one person could do that job (DUH), and that this was far from the first time that Wayfair ordered for one person to do a multiple-person job by Angi. So here we are, medicine bathroom cabinet and light resting on our bathroom floor, and Andy and I unable to see anything or lift it up ourselves since he just had hernia surgery.
Once again, don’t buy anything from Wayfair (this was my second or third purchase from them, and now last), and definitely do not waste your money on their installation service.
(Update: see the original post at the first link above for how they are rectifying this.)
While our entry into March has been one of a relatively calm and quiet lion, I’m certain there are several meteorological roars coming before winter departs later this month. Before that, here is our weekly recap for your enjoyment and perusal.
Suzie and I shared a flowering onion in our hometown of Amsterdam, NY.
A man of a certain age running out to get the mail in his underwear in the middle of winter. (See also ‘This Is Me.’)
Cheerful glimpses of hope in the grocery store.
The pendulum of light brings out the bloom of this beauty.
Shirtless male celebrity heat.
A day of leaping deserves an exclamation point!
Move. I’m gay.
Beware of the woeful Wayfair and equally-awful Angi.
Father Time tricks and treats.
If only… a dangerous frame of mind indeed.
The light of aural heaven – Madonna’s ‘Ray of Light’ celebrates another year of majesty.
Dazzlers of the Day included Daniel W. Green, Ari Shapiro, BJ Gruber and Barbara Smith.
Earliest harbingers of spring, pussy willows make their annual appearance in this blog post, paving the hopeful path for spring weather and fun-in-the-sun to come. As much as I enjoy these fuzzy fellows, I don’t bother with a pussy will tree in the yard – they demand too much water and this is their only big show – the foliage that follows is basic. Still, I love finding them in the market at this time of the year, along with all the forced daffodils and hyacinths and tulips.
Andy has already been talking of opening the pool come next month – as we have bumps dit up into April over the past few years – a happy extension of pool season when it’s usually too fleeting. Last year I didn’t spend much time in it, so maybe it’s time to get back into the wet swing of things… and these pussy willows would more than likely agree.
A lazy post, as I’m scheduled to be taking a break in Boston this weekend, and pre-populating posts is tedious business at best. Let’s take a look back at ten previous March 2 entries on this blog, assuming I was so consistent.
In began in black briefs on March 2, 2014, and in white briefs as well.
On March 2, 2015, it was the weekly recap with a naked male model.
Holy fuck, I cooked a duck on March 2, 2016.
Playing the numbers game on March 2, 2017, and a quokka.
A 15th anniversary of this very website took place on March 2, 2018.
A sneak-peek of a Madonna Timeline featured her ‘American Life’ album on March 2, 2019 while the Jonas Brothers returned with this ‘Sucker’.
March 2, 2020 featured this lion-hearted recap.
An attempt a these Ogunquit oaties opened March 2, 2021, and Dr. Angela Davis was Dazzler of the Day.
Red and gold flowers bisected winter blue for March 2, 2022 and Ariana Debose was Dazzler of the Day.
On March 2, 2023, winter blues looked beautiful and Russell Tovey was Dazzler of the Day.
A while way back, our bathroom mirror/medicine-cabinet/light source became unhinged and let go of two of its mirrors, leaving storage shelves of toiletries and medication and cuticle oil (three scents!) on disagreeable display. The other day, a Wayfair ad for precisely the item I was looking for – a modern mirror/medicine-cabinet’LED light – went on sale for about $600. (Don’t even ask the original price.) After scouring the specs and comparing with some other offerings online and in person, I decided this one looked like the best of the lot, so I read through the fine print of the “professional installation service” they offered as that’s always a concern. The policy read as such:
This item requires installation. We recommend adding professional installation so you can enjoy your item quickly, conveniently, and safely.
Sounds great, right? And they even posted a glowing review by Cindy D. Of course, I wasn’t content to rely solely on Cindy, so I clicked the ‘Learn More’ tab to read the fine print, which included the following: “Service pros are not responsible for disposing of packaging materials or moving the item before or after assembly/installation. For plumbing or electrical installations, there must be an existing line or the pro will be unable to complete your service.”
That sounded good – we already had the existing hardwire line that was used for the previous light. I reached out to check if they removed the existing product (as I’m not an electrician or handyman and I figured we would have to phone a friend to get help with that). The bot at the other end indicated that we were responsible for removing the previous item, and moving the new object into the room where it’s being hung. Fair enough, so I made the order and our friend Jim came over to remove the light and mirror we had hanging there.
Product arrived perfectly assembled on Wednesday as scheduled, and the installation appointment, now parceled out to Angi and our local “pro” was set for Thursday morning at 7 AM. I had to go to work, so Andy, recent recipient of hernia surgery, had to get up and wait in the front room for the “pro” to arrive. By 8:30 no one had arrived, and at work I received a text: “Hello Im with ppl services i apologize for the late message I arrived at ya location and for some reason my phone would not llet me contact you or the number did not work I’m tryna to contact now to see if you want to reschedule or to cancel”
Three lies in a first text is a big red flag. No one arrived at our location as my husband was sitting in the front room with a very big view of our driveway and street. (And simply ringing the doorbell would have been an easy fix.) You did not try calling my phone, and my call list will verify that, and my phone is working fine. Receipt of this text also indicates the communication was entirely possible. I wrote back and said someone was there waiting, then followed it up a few times with no response. A few hours later I tried texting again and got the following: “Sorry, this number is inactive” with a link to an Angi support page that said it was unavailable.
After going through an impossible process of setting up a new appointment, I came to find out that they were only sending one person for the rescheduled appointment for this Saturday at 10:30 AM. Three phone transfers and multiple conversations later, Angi said that someone had made an error in dispensing only one person for the job, so I would have to cancel the appointment and set up a new one for two people and pay for all this out of pocket.
This was a big item. 48 inches wide, 32 inches tall, and 115 pounds. One person could barely lift the unwieldy thing, much less install it. At least, that’s what sense told me. Angi put the blame squarely back on Wayfair for not setting up the original appointment correctly. This is when Wayfair got involved.
I explained that I had purchased a professional installation, and assumed that that meant the requisite number of people with the requisite knowledge of installation would be sent. Sending one person with the task of a “mirror wall hanging” seemed to indicate they had absolutely no knowledge whatsoever of their own product, and no idea that it needed an electrical hook-up as well.
A long afternoon of text chatting with WayHelp Wayfair’s Social Media bot, who later became Alicia, Bill, Kallie and Jacob (I’ve got the screen-shot receipts to prove all this, and more) resulted in them unable to work with Angi to set up a two-person service, and putting it back on me to cancel the first rescheduled date, order a new one for two people and pay out of pocket, after which they ‘may’ reimburse me. I asked about the electrical aspect, to which they replied “What Angi would consider installation would be hanging the cabinet but not the electrical aspect.”
So they are planning to have one person hang this enormous item, not connect it electrically, and call it a day? That’s Angi and Wayfair’s apparent answer. I reiterated that this was an item that required electrical work – hello, it’s a light! In their own explanation of what they don’t provide it says, “For plumbing or electrical installations, there must be an existing line or the pro will be unable to complete your service.” There is an existing line right where the item is to be hung. But alas, installation is just hanging this thing, so Andy and I will have to find an electrician to do that. (At one point one of them suggested that we have someone on hand who might help with the lifting – I’m out of town that day and my husband just had hernia surgery, so that seems dumb.)
We should have just done the work ourselves and not even bothered with the installation fee, but I’m waiting to see how tomorrow works out because I ordered this with the good faith that the product and service would be rendered as represented. The last that Jacob said was that “I think we can wait until March 2nd to see if this item can be assembled (installed) by one professional.”
Spoiler alert: it can’t.
If I’m wrong, I’ll happily update this post accordingly.
And if I’m right, I’ll also happily update this post accordingly. Watch this space!
And if by some miraculous miracle Wayfair and Angi decide to treat this customer with the basic services that have been purchased, then I’ll be happy to take down this post. Until then, the search engines for ‘Wayfair customer service’ or ‘Wayfair nightmare’ or ‘Wayfair awful service’ or ‘Angi fraud’ or ‘Angi terrible service’ or ‘Angi sucks’ can rev up for anyone considering a Wayfair installation service.
UPDATE: Saturday morning, March 2, arrived, and with it the second ‘pro’ that Wayfair had hired from Angi. He was great – and he confirmed what I had told Angi and Wayfair multiple times: the item could not be hung or installed by one person. Well DUH! He also said that Wayfair and Angi had been pulling this sort of thing many times, only requesting one person for jobs which needed multiple people to complete. There’s much more to say about the chats I had to have with Wayfair and Angi, and if they fail to appropriately correct this maybe I’ll post those receipts. People love to read about such drama!
UPDATE #2: After several disappointingly rude discussions with Wayfair and Angi, on chat texts and on the phone, which took up two days of time and increasing aggravation, I requested the refund on the installation service, which I think (can’t be sure until it goes through) is happening. We will find our own installer, which only delayed our bathroom from being functional, but I simply don’t trust Wayfair or Angi to do this properly. I posted a new blog to give a quicker synopsis than this lengthy entry offered, and shortly thereafter I got a message from Wayfair saying the following:
“I have been speaking with my manager regarding your displeasure with the Angi installation service, and what was included. Wayfair, would be happy to help, with providing a discount on your order, so you could hire someone locally. I do see the Angi service was refunded ($72.35) already. We would be happy to issue a discount of 30% on that bathroom cabinet… which would have us issue a refund back to your card for $181.43. I look forward to your response.”
I thanked that final rep and said I appreciated their help. What baffles me is why they think paying me back $250+ is better than simply contacting their service company (Angi) and having them send two people instead of one based on my original request. I asked why there was such a change in tone and practice with this discount offer after days of questionable correspondence. They replied:
“On occasion, we do not always solve issues correctly, and do apologize for that! We looked at it from your perception, and too were frustrated that Angi left you hanging not once but twice. In addition, all the added time you have spent on this order, we felt a discount would be the best way to help. I do want you and all customers to return to shop with Wayfair.”
We shall see…
This is the extra day that makes 2024 a Leap Year. If I cared, I’d google the original and reason for it, but I really don’t. If you do, look it up yourself and tell me if it was worth it. While supremely uninterested in the reasons for it, I’m fascinated by the fact of it, the same way I’m fascinated by the extra hour of time we trick ourselves into thinking we get with Daylight Saving Time (coming up on March 10). The idea of a whole extra day that appears once every four years feels like some literary machination to get characters into or out of trouble in service of an otherwise non-existent narrative. These days life is tense enough without adding more drama to it, and perhaps that’s why I’m not so keen to discover the origin of the Leap Year.
Instead, I’m doing a different kind of leaping – with a few links leaping to sunnier and funnier days.
Last summer began in hopeful fashion, and it required a second part to begin.
Summer in shades of gray, also requiring a second part.
Another summer post that needed another summer post that needed another summer post…
Summer begins where the boys are.
It’s finally happened – I’ve turned into an almost-old man. (By the way, the original title of this blog post was ‘ He’s Got Legs and He Knows How to Use Them’ – still torn about whether I made the right decision…)
The realization of old-manhood came as I was halfway down our driveway to pick up a package that had been delivered to our mailbox. I got the message late at night and slept on it, and upon remembering it first thing in the morning, I just threw on an overcoat over my long-sleeved t-shirt and underwear, then stepped into a pair of ancient, battered slip-on sandals that Andy and I have been sharing for years, and made my way out into the cold, sunny day. As I reached the end of the driveway, I looked down at myself and saw what any of the neighbors might be seeing – a middle-aged guy with crazy hair and glasses, bare legs and sandals, with an overcoat hopefully buttoned in the right holes whose occupant was too scared to fully check. (Some things are better left unknown.) When I got back inside (and the short walk back into the house was much quicker than the walk out as my brain woke fully) I realized that I actually didn’t care. Moreover, I wanted to capture the reality of it, so I took a few pics with my phone to commemorate the early-morning occasion.
It is a most unflattering photo you will see below, but not inaccurate, and if we’re going to be real here – my main endeavor whenever possible – we are going to be super-real. That means owning and acknowledging and accepting all 48-and-a-half years I’ve lived on this earth. It means being ok with being perfectly (and often wildly) imperfect. It means being messy and crazed and unkempt, and embracing all of it at every moment.
That makes for a sillier, and happier, life.
It also makes me feel less alone, because you are all just as fucked-up in the morning, and I don’t see any of your asses out posing for pictures. Good day.
