NYC: A Helluva Town – Part 1

New York, New York! I’ve made it no secret that I’m not the biggest fan of the Big Apple, but you can’t find the number and variety of Broadway and Off-Broadway shows anywhere else, so to that end New York is a necessary evil. Fortunately, there are enchantments and pockets of magnificence to counter the sinking-humanity feeling I get when pushing my way through the idiot-infested crowds of Times Square, and the chance to spend some time with my Mom was just a bonus.

In previous years we’ve done three shows in two days, which can be a daunting schedule to keep. This time around we narrowed it to two, with some buffers for shopping and simple decompressing. Oh, and some very extravagant meals – probably the most extravagant I’ll ever have the fortune of enjoying – and we certainly did that.

It began at La Grenouille – sometimes billed as New York’s most beautiful restaurant. It certainly cornered the floral market – walking into the entry one was pleasantly overcome by the unmistakable scent of a florist. Though powerful, it was never overpowering, and if you love flowers as much as I do it was an absolute revelation. Two grand bouquets rose to the ceiling, while each table was given its own special bouquet. These were not paltry carnations or Alstroemeria either – these were filled with peonies and roses and lilies and even dried fiddleheads.

It was sublime. Flattering soft lighting, red velvet banquettes, and tuxedo-clad waitstaff who were never snooty or arrogant (and after bringing a twist in my martini instead of an olive, and oddly following up with a plate of olives, they had no reason to be) it made for an impressive (and costly) dining experience.

And it was an experience I’ll not soon forget. As much as I might whine about New York, you can’t find this sort of thing anywhere else. On every corner and behind every door there is the possibility for magic that doesn’t exist in other places. The city is vast and varied in that way, and just when you think you might have a grasp or handle on it, it unfurls further expanses and delights.

(Even the bathroom had this glorious bouquet of hyacinths on the sink.)

After stuffing ourselves with an amazing meal, we walked over to see ‘Fun Home’. Our return Broadway engagement was off to a rollicking start…

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A Recap for the Roses

The month of June has traditionally been about the roses, and while we don’t grow very many (circulation, poor soil, and humid summers make for difficult rose-growing conditions) we certainly appreciate a few bouquets of them now and again. They provide the seasonally-appropriate backdrop for this quick early June recap – the best time of year to remember.

Up and down and all around.

A coral-hued peony is a thing of beauty.

An anniversary in Boston

And a Red Sox game to come.

The Glamour!!!

The Panache!!

The Purple!

The Delusional Grandeur Tour rounded its final, albeit long, turn with the ‘Samsara Healing Water’ section, Part One and Part Two.

Shaking the seed.

My mother’s dress, reborn.

You are invited to a Wonderland Gala this Friday, June 10 – and I’ll be there with more than bells on.

Nick Bateman and his nude butt.

The parade of Hunks included Vinny Vega, Vinny Castillo, Enrico Omri Ravenna, & the Mertailor, Eric Ducharme.

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Nick Bateman Bares His Naked Ass

The title of the post pretty much sums up the assets on display. Nick Bateman has been a Hunk of the Day before, but it clearly due again. In the meantime, he just posted a naked butt shot on his mega-popular Instagram feed. For those who are hungry, here’s something to whet the appetite.

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A Wonderland Gala

“I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is ‘Who in the world am I?’ Ah, that’s the great puzzle!”  ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

The season of Pride is once again upon us, and one of the more exciting events (in my fanciful estimation) is the only official formal event of the Albany Pride season – the GLSEN Alice in Wonderland Gala. An evening for supporting the Gay Lesbian & Straight Education Network of the New York Capital Region, this event is always one of sparkle and glamour, arriving on the eve of the actual Pride Celebration & Parade.

I love a party, especially a somewhat formal party where there’s a theme and a reason to get dressed up. This year that theme is the very-fertile ‘Alice in Wonderland’ which poses its own challenges and possibilities. Though Lewis Carroll (the troubling writer of the books) comes with his own set of questionable baggage, the works themselves are collections of imaginative whimsy – and the recent movie versions offer their own wonder and spectacle (and some of the most exquisite costuming I’ve seen of late). To that end, this theme is the perfect opportunity for sartorial excess and over-the-top frills. Mad-hatters and bow-tied, waist-coated bunnies are all welcome, and this Cheshire cat will be grinning ear-to-ear in some splendiferous ensemble that is as ridiculous to create as it will be to wear.

The party is scheduled for 6-8 PM on Friday, June 10, 2016 at the recently-renovated Renaissance Hotel (a world of enchantment itself) in downtown Albany. You may get your tickets at this link, and if you can’t make it perhaps you’d consider donating to such a great cause. Here’s a bit of background on the organization and all that they work to accomplish:

Since 1990, GLSEN has led the way on LGBT issues in K-12 education. Through pioneering research, program development and advocacy, GLSEN has made the case for the urgency and importance of these issues, and identified effective school-based solutions. Today, GLSEN remains at the vanguard of the “Safe Schools Movement,” many thanks to the active partnerships with the largest national organizations in elementary/secondary education, youth development and youth service, civil and human rights. The GLSEN-led National Safe Schools Partnership, for example, now includes more than 90 member organizations, and within the past year, each of GLSEN’s bullying-prevention strategies has been endorsed by a federal agency as a best practice in education or youth development. UNESCO has asked GLSEN to assist with the exchange of knowledge and best practice with NGOs and education ministries worldwide.

GLSEN is now focused on leveraging our access and assets to ensure that K-12 education continues to advance on LGBT issues: becoming fully inclusive of transgender students; addressing the multiple challenges confronting LGBT students of color; adopting GLSEN’s proven model policies and programs on a broader scale; and contributing to an emerging international dialogue on LGBT human rights issues and educational access for all children. To do this, we partner with and engage all education stakeholders, most particularly the students who experience our schools every day and are in the best position to help change them.

Your support helps make GLSEN the most transformational organizations of its kind, addressing important school safety issues that have relevance to every member of today’s school communities.  Together we are creating climates and attitudes of respect that will resonate across generations.

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I Learned It By Watching Her

Parents who know fashion have children who know fashion.

My Mom was the first person who taught me how to put an outfit together. Whether it was matching the shoes to the belt, or the shirt collar to a color in a sweater, she instilled a basic knowledge of what worked and what didn’t, and it was on that foundation upon which I relied until I could find my own way. (When you know the rules, you can break them.)

She took her cues from Jackie O, style pontiff of that period, and carried herself with a grace and an unintentional air of aloofness that got passed down directly to her first-born son. What I didn’t learn directly from the outfits she pre-selected for me and my brother I learned through watching her own style evolution, and the way she set about crafting an ensemble with her jewelry and accessories.

A number of years ago, I came into possession of the dress pictured here – a fancy evening gown straight out of the sixties (literally) with gold metallic threading that lent it a shimmer and glow that was a daring departure for my Mom’s usually conservative yet elegant taste. From the moment I first saw it, I was entranced by its beautiful pattern, its use of peacock-like color, and the texture and movement of its unique fabric. (I was also impressed because it was like nothing else my mother owned, and I couldn’t picture her in such a head-turner.)

For many years I’ve been wondering how to make use of it, to showcase and re-envision its purpose to impress, and I think I finally came up with something (without having to remove several ribs, a stomach, and most of a thigh in order to simply slip into it). The new version retains the integrity of the fabric without cutting it to pieces, while entirely revising its function and form. One of the most important things I learned from my Mom’s style was to embrace classic simplicity. (I may not employ it very often, but I appreciate it.) And in situations such as this, when it would be easy to take this dress and turn it into something unrecognizable, I made judicious use of restraint, keeping the fabric largely intact and whole.

The intricately excessive colors and patterns and textures are more than enough to hold visual interest, though a few golden adornments may be a possible addition. For some celebrations, more is more is more…

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Shaking the Seed

Behold the seed capsule of the poppy. Culled from this beautiful arrangement, I allowed these seed heads to dry in the hope of gaining some viable poppy seeds. Though this “florist poppy” was likely grown specifically for its globular form seen here, there has to be a bloom before that happens, so I’m rolling the dice and scattering some on the ground to see what may come up.

Never having had much luck with poppies, I’m not counting on anything. For some reason they have liked neither the clay soil of my parents’ home nor the sandy stuff of my subsequent houses. I’ve tried growing the fuzzy-leaved Oriental versions from potted plants and bare-roots, none of which ever deigned to bloom. Each would die a slow death after a season of decline and poor performance. Seeded “Flemish” poppies fared even more poorly, not even bothering to germinate.

These little maracas hold the promise of another start, but after such consistent failures it’s difficult to work up much hope.

Still, I dream of bright and bold blooms, of veiny petals streaked with enough color to raise a Renaissance painting from the dead.

We shall see what comes up, if anything.

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The DG Tour: Samsara Healing Water ~ Part 2

If you’ve never seen the ocean, and many times even if you have, you cannot comprehend its vastness, the sheer scope and expansiveness of such immensity. It instantly puts almost everything into sudden, and meek, perspective. We like to think of ourselves as so much more than a grain of sand on this planet, but really we are not. We are but a tiny fraction of the fold, and even our largest and grandest cities could be plucked and dropped into the middle of that water and the earth would barely even shudder.

No one wants to think about how small and insignificant we might really be. Maybe it scares us. Maybe we fight against that, working our way to become Someone, or to make something that Matters. Maybe getting our heads around the simple enormity of the world is our purpose in life. How does one even begin to make a mark?

Across the expanse of all that blue water, where leviathans glide through the lightless depths, another shore eventually arises.

How far could you go?

How far would you go?

Blue begets green, as light and air and water nourish the growing, living things, and orbs within orbs circle on our great sphere. There is a shift in the perspective of things, a seismic disturbance that will register and reverberate far into the future. Maybe we can move the world.

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The DG Tour: Samsara Healing Water ~ Part 1

“You can hide so much behind theatrics, and I don’t need to do that anymore.”  – Alexander McQueen

The final bend of The Delusional Grandeur Tour Book is at hand, and it will hopefully be a breath of fresh air for those who got bogged down by all the darkness and bad bunny behavior of what came before. On this last leg of our journey, we head into a more spiritual, yet realistic realm. The notions of pain, hurt, retribution, fantasy, glamour and excess are beginning to be reconciled, and there will soon be a dismantling of a past lived almost entirely behind a stage curtain.

This is the start of the awakening.

An open door.

A portal to a world where the past peacefully cohabitates with the present, and the future lurks temptingly around corners.

Locked cabinets, hidden drawers, and the sheen of a thickly-lacquered veneer – so many shields, so many defenses, all coated in glossy shine.

This is the beginning of learning to let secrets slumber.

Certain silks are better left undisturbed.

Not all dust is bad.

In stone and wood, a certain wisdom resides.

The wisdom of nature, of an order pre-destined and established beyond our sense of time.

It is stalwart, steady and true.

There is clarity in leaving some things obscured.

If you can wrap your head around that and let the need for all-knowing absolute certainty go, you will find that clarity.

Then you will find serenity, and perhaps even a purpose.

We seek to defy chaos.

We wish to restore order.

We want it all to make sense.

There is a time to be like stone, a time to be sturdy like wood.

And then there is a time to be like water – fluid and flexible, able to freeze, able to flow, and able to evaporate.

In beauty there is peace.

In my palm, I hold a prayer.

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Purple Panache – Part 2

The purple pulchritude presses forward with this second part of Purple Panache. I’m running out of pretty ‘P’ words, so before things turn nasty let’s quickly proceed to the images. (But just out of curiosity, what were you thinking: penis or pussy? My mind went to piss.)

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Purple Panache – Part 1

Maybe this is a tribute to the Purple One whose reign recently came to a sad close, or maybe it’s just a collection of pretty purple things because I love the color purple. It matters not.

Most are flowers, but there are a couple of surprises thrown in because purple doesn’t limit itself to one form.

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Beyond the Glamour

Our tour stop in the lands of Cologne and Glamour has come to an end, but the next segment is right around the corner. For now, a pause in silken splendor, and a look back at the entirety – thus far – of the Delusional Grandeur Tour trajectory. We have made it through the wilderness (somehow we made it through) and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s one of those all-illuminating lights, however, so the relief it offers is may be as equally thrilling as the fright that might initially result. Are you ready for the revelation?

THE DELUSIONAL GRANDEUR TOUR: LAST STAND OF A ROCK STAR

01)  Intro/Curtain – Part OnePart TwoPart Three

02)  Sunset Pool – Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart FourPart Five

03)  On The Road Hotel – Part OnePart TwoPart Three

04)  Rock Star Addict – Part OnePart TwoPart Three

05)  Animal Demons – Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart FourPart Five

06)  Steam Punk Birdcage – Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart Four

07) Red Riding Wood – Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart FourPart Five

08) Winter Top Hat – Part OnePart Two

09) Warrior Retribution – Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart FourPart FivePart SixPart SevenPart Eight

10) Cologne Glamour Fashion – Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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Muscari, In & Out of Focus

Certain blog posts are titularly self-explanatory.

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Summer Memories: The Best Guardian for a Red Sox Game

This weekend Skip and I head back to Fenway Park to take in a ball game between the Boston Red Sox and the Toronto Blue Jays. For the record, it is a win-win scenario for me, as the Blue Jays are my second favorite team (after the Red Sox). The very first professional baseball game I’d ever attended was a match-up between these two teams in 1986, the year the Sox went on to win the pennant. (We’ll leave Bill Buckner out of this for now.) At the time, I was more interested in the brown bag of paperwhite narcissus we’d just procured at a market than I was in the game. My Dad and brother had the better seats, by the third base line, while Mom and I were further back. It meant more to them than to us.

Last year I returned to the Green Monster’s lair with Skip, and it was an unexpectedly enjoyable experience. I’m not sure what sort of scene we made, what with the beer, the insults to the other team, and the runway rating I insisted on giving every player as their visage flashed across the screen for each of their at-bats. Surely it was no more incendiary than cutting the entire ‘Thor’ movie line.

I SEE THE DAWN OF A NEW BEGINNING

THIS TIME, THIS TIME WE CAN’T GO HOME

I HEAR THE STREETS OF TOMORROW CALLING

I GO, I GO WHERE YOU GO

‘CAUSE WE BELONG TO SOMETHING

WE BELONG TO SOMETHING NEW

As we sat down for the game, I found myself once again getting philosophical about the whole idea of baseball, its place in our culture, and the attraction that gets an entire park filled with grown adults hooting and hollering like kids at Christmas. Skip explained my various questions on the game itself, while the undulations of the crowd held me transfixed. I wanted so badly to do the wave, but I don’t think they did it that day.

Shaded somewhere behind the third base line, I was taken back to my first Red Sox game, while very much inhabiting the game at hand. Past and present selves existed, and the solitude I so often courted and craved in both childhood and adulthood found momentary abatement in the enjoyment of a friend – and a group -“ all of us watching the same thing, sharing the same experience,

IN THE MIDST OF THE MIDNIGHT HOUR

YOU SAID TO ME

WE ARE, WE ARE A DIFFERENT KIND

OH LIKE WE’VE BEEN KISSED BY HIGHER POWER

SAYING DON’T WAIT, DON’T WAIT UNTIL IT’S GONE

‘CAUSE WE BELONG TO SOMETHING,

WE BELONG TO SOMETHING,

WE BELONG TO SOMETHING NEW…

Most of my happy summer memories go back to the 80’s, but every once in a while a new one is created, and it gets filed away for those winter days when things can get a little lonely. Ever since last year’s Red Sox trip, Skip has been part of a new summer memory. It’s reminiscent of the days of ‘Stand By Me’ or ‘The Goonies’™ when my brother and a friend would join me for an adventure. Most days it was simply riding our bikes around town or traipsing through the woods or racing around the garage if it was raining. Some boyish things are better shared. A baseball game is one of them.

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Oodles of Blooms, Indoors & Out

Lilacs and ajuga and roses – oh my!

A single flower can be majestic, but when taken en masse a collection can be even more striking.

Here are a few examples of how more is sometimes more.

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