17
March
2016
Tags: Male Models
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Gratuitous St. Patrick’s Day Ginger Post

St. Patrick’s Day means different things to different people. To some, it’s a Shamrock Shake, plain and simple. To others, it’s a river dyed green in the heart of Chicago. To more, it’s some sort of religious event honoring a Saint none of us really know. For me, it’s all about the gingers. 

Rather than give you some link-heavy ginger post, I’m going to let these unmarked and unidentified ginger gentlemen tickle your sights anonymously. A ginger is a magical creature, and I don’t want to scare any of these guys off. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

PS – Come back in the middle of the day for an extra ginger treat…

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16
March
2016
Tags: General
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Wacky Wednesday: Dump Trump

What in the name of God Almighty is this evangelical insanity???

Is this a magical land of shamans and witchcraft?

Are they speaking in tongues?

Can that rabbi move his hand lower to cover Donald Trump’s mouth forever after?

Watch this and tell me these yahoos aren’t completely whacked out of their minds.

Wow.

Wacky.

Cracky Wacky. As in they are on the CRACK.

Step back.

Remember Whitney.

Crack is Whack.

And so is Donald Trump.

I may have to make a new category of ‘Crazy’ for this one. (Or file it under the ‘Homophobia‘ one, cause you know these loons hate a little man-on-man action.)

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15
March
2016
Tags: Flowers
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Jumpin’ Jonquils

Like a little burst of sunshine from the muddy earth, the jonquil is a happy sign of spring. Though these are cut flowers from Europe (as many spring bulbs are in the Northeast this early in the season) it still holds the same excitement as those just breaking through the ground outside.

At this point, I’m desperate for all the sun I can get – and if it happens to be in the form of a daffodil, that’s quite all right. It may be even better, as there’s the sweet accompaniment of perfume to go with this kind of sunshine. There are a number of fragrances that attempt to capture the elusive and varied scent of narcissus, but I’ve not found one that accurately conveys it. Some bits of beauty aren’t meant to be bottled, and I’m profoundly tickled that this is one of them. There is a time and a place for the jonquil, and it is because of this small window that we value them all the more.

It is a reminder to celebrate the moment, to live in the here and now, to be fully present and aware of the lush life around us.

All right, enough nonsense. This isn’t the fucking Oprah Winfrey network.

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14
March
2016
Tags: General
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Recap Rendezvous

On Monday mornings we recap the previous week’s posts, kind of like a little coffee clatch/clutch to ease into the work week. It’s especially needed when we were robbed of an hour this past weekend and will only really feel it come this lovely Monday morning (too soon). Let’s postpone for a bit and look back as we begin the final week of winter, minus one hour.

Kickstarting things off was this Coco Peru post. Anything Ms. Peru does is an instant pick-me-up.

I still have a love/hate relationship with Madonna’s ‘Autotune Baby’.

You’ll never believe what I put in my mouth in high school. (And I even did it while marching down the street.)

Zac Efron took his shirt off, but that was nothing compared to this glimpse of his star-spangled Speedo.

The imminence and eminence of the bedroom.

Lost: the men of Boston.

Madonna took us to the circus.

The Red Witch.

The White Drops.

The Shirtless Men.

As always, there were Hunks galore, and they were all over the map, from baseball player Bryce Harper, crooner Matt Dusk, model Ekhosuehi Eseosa, porn star Justin King, fitness fanatic Brandon Myles White, underwear guru Daniel Miller, and actor Dwayne Cameron.

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13
March
2016
Tags: Shirtless Male Celebrities
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Shameless Sunday Salaciousness

Leaving winter behind in a flash, this final week of the sad season is being given a hot make-over with this gratuitous post of man flesh. It kicks off with that meaty pile of muscles, Joe Manganiello, who is beloved in these parts for his, well, everything.

He probably deserves his own Super Sunday post, but for now Henry Cavill carries the second spot in bulked up hunky form and fine shirtless fashion.

Speaking of super, check our Bryan Hawn’s naked butt and Chris Pratt’s naked torso.

Gavin Henson knows his way around a ball, but you probably wish he’d move it.

Bringing up the caboose here is Adam Levine, who looks fine from the front, but even better from the back, especially when he gets naked for it.

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13
March
2016
Tags: Flowers, Gardening
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Drops Absent of Snow

These early spring bulbs rarely show themselves before March, but this small clump was in resplendent late-afternoon bloom at the tail-end of February. They lived up to their common name of ‘Snowdrops’ as patches of dirty white stuff still clung to shaded spots, and the only other signs of life were a few branches of witch hazel suspended overhead.

For some reason I’ve never invested much into planting these early bulbs, yet they are my favorite sight at this time of the year. They’re also relatively easy to grow. (I went on a crocus kick a couple of years ago, planting hundreds of corms, only to watch them unearthed and torn apart by the chipmunks and squirrels in our backyard, so I’m a bit wary of the whole scene.) A few might be worth trying to sneak through, however, so remind me again in the fall of how much I love them at the end of winter.

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12
March
2016
Tags: General
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When the Witch Turns Red

When bloods runs from the otherwise bare limbs of a witch hazel shrub, the end of winter is at hand. I think the yellow version of this is the one most typically seen and known, which makes this burgundy variation all the more intriguing. We want that which is rare and uncommon – at least, I do.

One of the first spring shrubs to dare to bloom, witch hazel is a brave and hardy little thing, often shining through late season snowfalls and whipping wind, not to mention the deluge of spring storms just around the corner. Such resilience in the face of Mother Nature’s final gasps of winter – always the most cruel – is a thing of rugged beauty. The embodiment of idealism in a crinkled bloom.

The most thrilling turn of seasons is when winter bleeds into spring – whether that’s in the running water of a melting pile of snow, or the metaphorically bloody clumps of this crimson witch hazel.

We are ready.

Let it come.

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12
March
2016
Tags: Madonna, Music
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Madonna’s Tears of a Clown

It sounded like a guaranteed train-wreck. As much as I love Madonna, her ill-conceived and poorly-executed stand-up bit during an appearance on a Jimmy Fallon show for her Rebel Heart promotional tour was proof that her greatest strengths are her musical performances. (Witness the insanely good ‘Bitch I’m Madonna’ dance-fest of that same show.) This evening – a gift to her Australian fans – promised to be an intimate and raw affair of music, stories and comedy, but I didn’t have much faith in how it would play.

Making a whimsical entrance on a tricycle, Madonna makes an effectively glamorous clown. Make-up is flawlessly spot-on, costume is sexy but innocent, and the flaming-pink wig and off-set top hat are a new take on some Madonna stand-by accessories. She’s done the sexy circus theme before (‘The Girlie Show’) and it fits her well. Still, I had my doubts.

It begins in somewhat-shaky but moving fashion as Madonna tackles the Stephen Sondheim classic ‘Send in the Clowns.’ To my knowledge, it’s the first time she’s sung Sondheim since her stunning ‘Sooner or Later’ performance from 1991’s Oscar telecast.

It’s always a thrill when Madonna performs my favorite song she’s ever written, so the appearance of ‘Drowned World/Substitute for Love‘ from her magnificent (and thus far best) album ‘Ray of Light‘ was a welcome beginning to her string of songs this evening.

The unfairly-maligned ‘American Life’ album got a welcome revisit, with emotional renderings of ‘X-Static Process‘, ‘Intervention‘ and the first-ever live performance of ‘Easy Ride.’ Though I’ll never be a big fan of ‘I’m So Stupid’ it fit in well with the raw, sometimes-self-flagellating nature of the night.

Some of the intervening “comedic” bits fall as flat as expected (that dumb donkey joke) but they are less harsh and more endearing than previous comic efforts. She also pokes fun at herself, not something she does often, but one of her unheralded strong-points when it happens. Sipping from a Cosmopolitan, she was more relaxed in a free-form style that usually leaves her more rigid. How, at this late stage of the game, she manages to reinvent and surprise after what we’ve already seen is a real revelation.

The mostly acoustic style of the songs neatly aligned with the intimate feel of this loosely-plotted show, and sets Madonna up for an even longer run should she choose to maintain her unprecedented sway. She expounds upon the creation of one of the most emotionally-wrenching songs she’s ever written – ‘Mer Girl’ – before giving it a stark reading – a haunting highpoint, a raw wound, a glimpse behind the curtain. This clown had many sides, this clown had depth, and this clown had some serious feeling.

By the time a gentle, easy-going version of ‘Borderline’ comes along, the music is finally, and reassuringly, revealed as her one true salvation, as the single aspect that has buoyed her career and changed the entire landscape of pop culture – for better, for worse, and forever. Her penultimate song for this event was the too-rarely-performed ‘Take A Bow’ – the perfect ending both thematically and lyrically; all the world does indeed love this clown.

I expected the whole thing to be a dud, an embarrassing mis-step at the end of her otherwise-amazing ‘Rebel Heart’ Tour, but I was proven wrong. That’s the majesty of Madonna at work, even when the unlikeliest naysayers are ready to wag our naughty fingers at her. Touche, Madame, and well-played.

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11
March
2016
Tags: Boston
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The Disappearing Men of Boston

In fifth and sixth grades, one of my favorite moments of class was when we got to go to the library and read. There was a corner where the books on paranormal activity were kept, and I’d occasionally pick up a compilation on ghost hauntings and read a bit of it – only a bit, for I was soon too scared to turn the pages. Like the Loch Ness monster or the Abominable snowman, those ghost stories carried an unsolved mystery to them, the notion of something being off. They originated somewhere, there had to be something to them, but the veracity of it, the existence of such hidden evils, was always suspect. It was the only thing that kept me from going completely sleepless.

Black and white photographs of haunted staircases, of blanks walls covered in faded Victorian wallpaper, and doors slightly ajar, would come back to my mind at night, and I spent many hours frightened of every sound that emanates from a sleeping house. It wasn’t the existence of ghosts or monsters that horrified me, it wasn’t the damage they might do – it was the mystery of it. The absence of knowledge or proof was what bothered me, and that worked both ways. If it couldn’t be proven that they existed, how could it be proven that they didn’t exist? That same fear came to me the other day as I looked up at a poster of young man who was missing in Boston – Zachary Marr. On the platform of the Downtown Crossing Red Line, hordes of people rushed past his smiling image. He watched over all of them, as blind to their worries and concerns as they were to his, but I saw it all.

It had a title straight from clickbait hell: “Boston’s Mysterious Vanishing Men.” Of course I fell for it, then went down into a dark hole of conspiracy theories and paranoid speculation. For a few years, and in similar fashion, men in Boston were reported missing, then found dead a while later in a body of water – usually the Charles River or the harbor. In each instance, the men had gone off on their own, usually late at night, and often after a few drinks at a bar. They were all considered accidents, moments of drunken stumbling that resulted in unfortunate circumstances when a city has such easy access to water.

Still, something bothered me about these stories. Some vague underlying sense of dread and danger, some small seed of ‘What if?’ coupled with an inability to completely dismiss the connections made between cases. I don’t know the statistics, I don’t know how often such accidents happen. At the same time I find it hard to believe that such happenings are the work of some mastermind serial killer. As always, it’s the not knowing for certain that bothers me most. That’s what creeps into my head sometimes.

Boston’s lost boys, gone mysteriously missing then found in the water days or weeks later, haunt the most morbid corners of the mind, residing there partly resigned, partly pleading for help, partly at peace— or so we want to believe. It’s a haunting that spooks through its missing pieces, just like those ghost stories spun such fear through their very mystery.

I walk the streets and notice things differently now. The marks of men. The remnants of the lost. A single sock. A weathered Brooks Brothers collar point. A muddy comb missing several of its teeth. Ghostly items. Faded with weather and time and neglect. The forgotten. An eerie uneasiness settles over some nights now, and only when I lock the two formidable entry doors behind me do I feel a sense of relief.

UPDATE: Sadly, Zachary Marr’s body was just found in the Charles River.

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10
March
2016
Tags: General, Literature
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Bedroom Domain

“Waking up begins with saying am and now. That which has awoken then lies for a while staring up at the ceiling and down into itself until it has recognized I, and therefrom deduced I am, I am now. Here comes next, and is at least negatively reassuring; because here, this morning, is where it has expected to find itself: what’s called at home.” ~ Christopher Isherwood

“I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.” ~ Stephen Chbosky

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?” ~ Ernest Hemingway

“It doesn’t matter what you do in the bedroom as long as you don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses.” ~ Daphne Fielding

“Before you sleep, read something that is exquisite, and worth remembering.” ~ Desiderius Erasmus

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09
March
2016
Tags: General
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Wacky Wednesday: Marching with an Oboe

There’s a very good reason the oboe is not traditionally part of a marching band: it’s fucking dangerous. How I managed to march in the Amsterdam Rams Marching Band with an oboe and not stab myself in the face with a sharp double reed is more a testament to my stubborn refusal to learn a new instrument than any sense of reason. Here is proof that it did happen.

If ever I were to be put off by purple feathers, this would have been it, but since it didn’t happen I doubt it will ever happen. The rest of that scratchy uniform, however, did instill an abhorrence to polyester and all its evil forms. I’d go into the details of how it all came about, but I think the picture is more than enough for this Wacky Wednesday post. One day I’ll regale you with tales of how I fashioned a clarinet lyre onto the base of the oboe to hold my music, or the night we put on a half-time show in the midst of flurries, or the simple fact that I marched down the streets of Amsterdam WITH A FUCKING OBOE IN MY MOUTH.

Since so many of you enjoy seeing the piss taken out of me, Wacky Wednesday may be a new regular, or semi-regular, feature. Or it might not. As much as I enjoy a bit of silliness from time to time, I’ve suffered enough. (You’re going to love it.)

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08
March
2016
Tags: Madonna, Music
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The Madonna Timeline: Song #122 ~ ‘Autotune Baby’ – Late winter 2015

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

Madonna’s B-sides and Bonus Tracks have only gotten better over the years (see ‘I Fucked Up‘, ‘Super Pop’ and ‘Beautiful Killer.’) This Madonna timeline selection – ‘Autotune Baby’ – is one of the best, wrapped in an annoying baby gimmick that almost – almost – ruins the whole beautiful affair. But I guess babies tend to do that, so we will make do. It’s a bonus track from the excellent ‘Rebel Heart’ album, and got lost in that release’s mad shuffle.

I TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT YOU ALL THE TIME CAUSE YOU’RE NOT MINE

I’M NOT IN LOVE BUT I’M IN LIKE, SO FAR IT’S WORKING FINE. 

BUT WHEN I NEED YOU THEN I’M DESPERATE,  I’M A LITTLE CHILD

JUST LIKE AN ANIMAL, DOWN ON MY KNEES AND BEGGING…

She’s employed the baby thing once in the past – in an unobtrusive bit of recorded laughter reportedly by Pat Leonard’s daughter in ‘Dear Jessie‘. That one was forgivable given the whimsical childhood fantasy of the song. This time around, an annoying child’s cry is used, distorted, and turned into a jarring musical recurrence.

YEAH, ALL WRAPPED UP, I WANNA BE YOUR LITTLE BABY NOW

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER, YOU CAN ROCK ME, ROCK ME NOW

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT YOU CAN HEAR ME CRYING LOUD

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER AND ROCK ME.

On repeated listens, however, it becomes an integral part of the song. Not that it isn’t for a moment anything less than grossly agitating, but there’s a useful purpose for it. That bothersome grating on the ears actually makes the chorus, when it arrives, that much sweeter. And what a gorgeous chorus it is – probably one of her best in a long time. Such a shame it had to be bound with the baby.

OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK ME

WE’VE GOT TONIGHT, SO ROCK ME NOW.

Lyrically it’s a casual relationship gone obsessive, a sweet love song surrounded by emotionally sadomasochistic tension. The push and pull of power and weakness, of domination and subjugation, of love and hate – it finds fruitful musical resolution in the chorus. (Again, this could have been one of the great ones were it not for that damn baby.)

I’M IN MY BED AND I’M OBSESSED AND LYING WIDE AWAKE

I NEED SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO COME AND PUT ME IN MY PLACE

CAUSE IN THE DAY I CAN’T BE TAMED, BOY YOU DON’T WANNA KNOW

BUT IN THE NIGHT MY HANDS ARE TIED, YOU TELL ME WHERE TO GO.

It’s a fuck you/fuck me lullaby, filled with barbed sweetness and poisoned candy. We all want to be so strong in the light of day. We wrap ourselves in armor and pretend that we don’t need anyone, that we are not dependent or needy creatures. Nobody wants to be the weak one.

YEAH, ALL WRAPPED UP, I WANNA BE YOUR LITTLE BABY NOW

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER, YOU CAN ROCK ME, ROCK ME NOW

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT YOU CAN HEAR ME CRYING LOUD

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER AND ROCK ME.

Once the night falls, however, most of us just want to be held. Rocked gently to sleep. Comforted and wrapped in loving arms. We aren’t supposed to admit it, but there it is. From the moment we enter this cold world, we just want to be loved.

OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK ME

WE’VE GOT TONIGHT SO ROCK ME

OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK ME

WE’VE GOT TONIGHT SO ROCK ME NOW.

{I just can’t get over the damn autotune baby. I tried, but I can’t.}

ROCK ME NOW… ROCK ME NOW.

SONG #122: ‘Autotune Baby’ ~ Late Winter 2015

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07
March
2016
Tags: Gay
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Kickstarting Conversations with Coco

Coco Peru is without challenge one of my favorite entertainers. From her scene-stealing, semen-burning turn in ‘Trick’ to her hilarious (and surprisingly touching) performance in ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ Ms. Peru has been giving audiences razor-sharp wit and side-splitting commentary for more years than any of us cares to recall.

Now she’s making a very serious and earnest play for the television stardom that should have been hers all this time, with a Kickstarter Campaign in which she aims to film a pilot for ‘Conversations with Coco’ – a genius idea that I’d make must-see viewing (and I barely watch TV). There are just a few days left to fund it, so if you are feeling the least bit generous, please visit the ‘Conversations with Coco’ Kickstarter page and get to it. You know she’s worthy.

The best part is that if and when the show kicks off, portions of the proceeds will go to the Los Angeles LGBT Center. Do good, feel good, make good – and enjoy the laughs along the way.

 

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07
March
2016
Tags: General
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A Recap as We Round the Bend

It may be a rather long bend, but it’s happening – the arrival of spring. With temperatures set to soar to 70 degrees this week, I’m gearing up for the exciting and imminent arrival of relief. It’s much too soon to start the full-on celebration, but it’s always been the anticipation that I adore anyway. On with a look back at the frigidness that came before…

For all those who say there is no justice in this world, I give you Hunk of the Day Justice Joslin. (He’s also the guy featured in the pics here.)

We entered March on the wings of a witch (hazel).

A Madonna dancer, Loic Mabanza, took a bow as Hunk of the Day.

The weather remained cold enough for a proper duck dinner.

Keeping things warm was this hodgepodge collection of shirtless male celebrities.

My delusions are far from done.

Pietro Boselli earned his second Hunk of the Day crowning, and is well on the way to a third.

Other Hunks of the Day included Chris Masters, Torben Liebrecht, Dan Rodrigues, and Sean O’Reilly.

A sneak-peek at Zac Efron’s star-spangled Speedo.

The Madonna Timeline made a quiet return with the lead-track (‘Survival’) off her ‘Bedtime Stories’ album.

By far the biggest news for my week was the announcement of plans for a Boston bathroom renovation. The time is at hand… now wish me all the luck in the world, because it’s going to be needed.

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06
March
2016
Tags: General, Home Design
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A Boston Bathroom Renovation In its Infancy

With the very obvious exception of the day it’s finally done, the early days of a renovation project are usually my favorite part of any undertaking. After well over two decades of untouched. but decently serviceable performance, it is time to renovate the bathroom at the Boston condo. I’ve been putting it off for a few years, mostly due to funding and lack of ambition. Re-doing our kitchen in upstate New York was enough of a headache to put me off of a project of this much import for a couple of years, but with a toilet that keeps running (and wasting water) as well as a shower that has always been a little leaky, I decided to bite the bullet and put this plan into effect.

A few measurements, some online browsing, and a retirement loan later, we are at the starting stage for this renovation. I’ve got a good idea of what the layout and design will be, and it won’t involve any change-up in plumbing location, which is probably the only good thing. Everything else will need to be re-done. Being that I’m not living there full-time makes things better and worse. There will be some Hotels Tonight stays that result, but I won’t need to deal with living in dust and debris 24/7. Pros and cons to both. Early days yet. And all is possibility.

Hopefully the work will get underway by late summer or early fall. It’s a small space, but it’s in Boston. Pros and cons again. Right now I’m solidifying the design plan (clean, minimalist, and Zen-like, with modern flourishes and lines, that somehow utilizes an exposed brick wall) and seeking out contractors. If you know of anyone reliable and reasonable, please send some recommendations my way. Though it’s a big project for me, it’s only a small bathroom for everyone else. Somewhere there’s someone who’s perfect for the job. (I’d also throw in some free advertising seen by thousands each day – ahem…)

The best and only way I’ve found of getting through such an endeavor is to find an inspiration piece, and focus on that when things get difficult. To that end, I have an image, and a feeling. It’s an image of elegance: a pair of Tom Ford Private Blend bottles nestled beside one another, on the edge of a bamboo-fronted vanity backed by sleek white subway tile, perhaps something in aqua-hued glass. The feeling is one of serenity, after a long day of walking through the South End, wrapped in a waffle-weave bathrobe following a blissfully hot shower.

Now, how do we get there… from here?

 

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