Transitioning from summer to fall is happening in a big way here – most of it behind-the-scenes as I prepare for a new look and theme for this seasonal shift. It’s a re-invention in a way, as well as a stepping into some new shoes that instantly felt like old ones – more on that to come. In the meantime, this purgatorial pause is a good point to stop and assess where we are – something in service to the old adage than an unexamined life is not worth living.

The journey into the next level of consciousness and life is fraught with such landmines – tricky spots where you might end up blowing your life up if you make the wrong step. I’ve always been too careful and measured to make those kinds of rash decisions and movements, but you lose out on certain things playing it too safe, so this season I’m planning on being bold and changing things up – all with an eye to being better.

The road to fall stretches out before us. Summer is still here, but senses her time is limited, at least until her triumphant return next year. I’m just trying to enjoy the journey.

The first of September entered with a rainstorm – all of the night and much of the day. I drove into work through the rain, then drove home through the rain – which usually makes for the saddest sort of bookends. On this day, however, I didn’t mind it – the dismal weather matched the dismal mood as the irrevocable shift toward fall continued unabated. Light lingered in the sky – enough for Andy to eke out a couple of grilled burgers for dinner. On the patio, rain droplets preened and posed on the enormous leaves of the potted banana – this plant always starts out so unpromisingly slight, then somehow unfurls one leaf by one larger leaf at a time, until you have an enormous specimen by the time the move to fall commences. I don’t think I’ll bother overwintering this one. The last time I tried that it made for a rotten mess by the time spring arrived, and it never even came back. We’ll use our limited garage space for the bamboo planters instead – they survive easily, sometimes never losing all of their green leaves. They’re hardier than the banana too, so there’s less need for pampering.

I’m totally over pampering things that can’t be bothered to do their part and grow.

It’s Virgo season, and I feel powerful and entirely out of fucks – a dangerous combination for anyone getting in the way. On the rainy night on which I write this, I hear water on the roof – a soothing sound, ideal for sleeping, even if I’ve had trouble finding slumber lately. The restless turn of summer’s last few screws of its own coffin. It’s all just sleep in the end.

I didn’t post this – somebody else did – and I love it.

School’s back in session – get ready for a lesson!

Some of us have been working year round. Buck up.

It’s one of life’s cruel little fuck-overs that my initials (AI) have turned into such a monstrosity. Personally, I can’t stand AI (the Artificial Intelligence one) – and most artistic types with a modicum of talent feel the same. At the same time, I already see this battle is lost, and as I have fewer years ahead of me than behind me, someone else will have to take up the war. Fight on, fine friends.

A little-known Boston landmark, this is Hiscock Park.

Need we say more?

This is a question for Diana Vreeland, if only she were alive…

How we came to arrive at September so quickly its beyond my limited comprehension. Time moves in tricky ways these days, and summer seems to have flown by as much as it seemed to linger. Time speeds along at a mighty pace when we are enjoying the days, then stalls when troubles arise. Which do we pick? Which do we hope for most? To speed through with pleasure or pause with a little bit of pain? It’s too early in the day, and the week, for such philosophical mental meandering. Tuesday mornings were never meant to go this deep. Let’s pull back for a minute and slow this train down – it is, after all, still summer. And while summer hasn’t treated all of us particularly well, we’re still here, still going, and in that there is success and accomplishment. Let’s revisit a few other September starts in service of nostalgia…

September 1, 2025 – A mindful beginning to the month.

September 1, 2024 – A pair of coquette swim trunks.

September 1, 2023 – A sunlit September song.

September 1, 2023 – A show of love in a September sky.

September 1, 2022 – A reminder of summer, and links to more Septembers…

The downtown Albany cafe scene is doing us all proud – with Cafe 66, Alias, and two locations for Stacks (three if you count the Outpost in my office building). It’s a far cry from the monopoly that Dunkin’ Donuts had over this area when I first started working for the state of New York 25 years ago.

Holy shit – that just struck me: yesterday’s date marked the 25th anniversary of my first day at a state job. I’ve worked in this state career for a quarter of a century. What hits me most profoundly when I think about that now is not how much I’ve already learned, but by how much more there is and always will be to grow and improve to be better. That is a long way from how much I thought I knew 25 years ago. The path to wisdom is traveled quicker by those who accept that there will always be more to learn.

For obvious reasons and ample evidence (see the bulk of all the blog posts on this site) I’m not yet a wise man – but slowly that’s where I want to head. Be patient with me on the journey – and be patient with yourselves if you’re attempting a similar trip.

This timeframe, couple with my recent birthday, now puts my retirement eligibility date at five years from now. Let’s see how much damage I can do in that time…

A totally nude blog post is nothing exactly new for these parts, but naked here has always held more of an emotional aspect than any full-frontal revelations – though glimpses of that may be found here if you know how to search (I’m not going to tell you). This is one of my first posts as a 51-year-old, a fact that makes me feel both all of my years and hardly any of them at once. Sometimes my outer shell is the part that ages; sometimes my ancient tendencies are all in my head. It all depends on the whim of the moment, the mood and the magic at hand, and the elusively-shifting idea of perspective that informs more than we mostly realize.

If that’s all a bit much for a Monday morning session of quarterbacking when we usually just do a simple introductory paragraph for the weekly blog recap, well, consider it my gift to you for persual after you’ve had your coffee fix. I’m drained, mentally bereft of clothes and dressing, physically hanging out with cock and balls free as a bird, and continuing my merry way along this third or fourth mid-life crisis journey. Come with me… you know you want to join in this fun.

A killa filla dilla.

A favorite of the bees returns to bloom and extend the summer season.

The golden friendship high is one I’ll chase for my entire life.

Prick up at the sight of these lavender bunny ears.

A bouquet fit for friends – the finest friends I know.

Muscles against a green screen thanks to Nicholas Galitzine.

When the bush is late, people start to worry. Or maybe that’s just me…

This gratuitous Ben Platt shot though, am I right?

An introductory Boston birthday post begins the bday bombast.

Birthdays in Boston are beautiful.

Birthdays in Boston are quiet.

Birthdays in Boston are delicious.

Gone with the scone.

Get me to the Greek (salad).

Closing the day and the week with the glory of morning.

Dazzlers of the Day included Luke Christian and Brett Goldstein.