The sad thing about many lives – my own included – is that we are always on the defensive. Always ready to fight. Always ready to counterattack. So we do it.
We fight.
We go to battle.
We go to war.
We move through it and if we’re lucky we survive.
“Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so gentle as real strength.” – Frances de Sales
THE DELUSIONAL GRANDEUR TOUR: LAST STAND OF A ROCK STAR
Apparently we could not escape winter’s wrath, even if it was supposed to end weeks ago, and our most recent snowstorm was one of the worst (which isn’t saying much, except for its late arrival). To counter the ill-feelings from that (and the possible damage to the cherry and lilac buds which were already well on their way to burst) here are a few photos of a pretty pink spring bulb bloom, taken the last time I was in Boston (and before this snowy nonsense).
A late winter storm can be a danger to bulbs like this – but if it’s quick and goes away soon they can usually recover. This last one stayed cold for so long that such a recovery will prove difficult at best.
A number of people I know – along with several studies on the issue – have claimed that a high percentage of homophobic people are actually gay themselves. I’ve always had a hard time believing that. Maybe I’m naive and foolish enough to think that most people aren’t so stupid and self-defeating, and maybe I’m just completely wrong. The only time I wonder about the phenomenon of homophobic man as closeted homosexual is when someone is so fixated on gay people that it’s all they talk about. Rick Santorum and Mike Huckabee come to mind, and now these Benham Brothers – who were set to have their own HGTV home improvement show until their anti-gay vitriol was discovered. Now, it’s like someone unlocked their mouths and all that’s coming out of them is cock talk. I mean, I don’t even think about gay sex as much as these dudes do. And so I’m left to wonder…
When their show was canceled before it even began, they posted this YouTube video. I lost count of all the double-entendres very quickly after one referred to the other as his “sister” and they started rattling off ‘The Three C’s’ that rule their lives. Yes, really. Watch:
A couple of days ago, they posted a big Bible-thumping article on how all the North Carolina shenanigans of late (you know, how the whole world is basically pulling out from a state that’s going to espouse such hateful “values” – and everyone knows that good Christians never pull out) are an attack on their religion. It’s more nonsense, but here are a few excerpts that better showcase their moronic hatred than my rhetoric could ever approach:
“Last week was a crazy week for the state of North Carolina. The hoopla around HB2 (House Bill 2), which overturned Charlotte’s radical bathroom bill, indicates just how demanding and pervasive the roots of the sexual revolution are in our country. And it reveals the direction in which we are headed as a nation…
This is the pattern of the sexual revolution’s mob, surrounding its prey, forcing its will on all who stand in the way.
Yet this is nothing new. As Scripture says, “There’s nothing new under the sun.†Today’s sexual revolution is simply new fruit coming from the same vine – the vine of Sodom.
In Genesis 19, we see how Sodom reacted to the men of God who came to Lot’s house:
“Before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, surrounded the house, both young and old, all the people from every quarter; and they called out to Lot and said to him, ‘Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may have relations with them’†(19:4-5).
Today, the sexual revolution of Sodom has pervaded every sphere of society, capturing both young and old. And anyone standing in the way will be surrounded by an angry mob demanding participation…
As the men of Sodom surrounded the house, Lot offered them his daughters, which reveals how pathetic he had become as a father. Yet they refused his accommodation – and it got even nastier:
“So they pressed hard against Lot and came near to break the door†(19:9b).
The “vine†of Sodom in a nation forces participation against the will of the people. It refuses to be told, “No.â€
The story continues as the mob pressed against Lot and was struck with blindness, yet the rage continued:
“They struck the men with blindness, both small and great, so that they wearied themselves trying to find the doorway†(19:11).
Wouldn’t getting struck with blindness not sober you up a bit? Yet they “wearied themselves to get to the door!†The sexual revolution is “blind†to its own rage and hate. It has no capacity for reason. It has no ability to see its own hypocrisy or discern its hopeless future. It just forces itself on others regardless of cost or consequence.
Although Lot escaped the city of Sodom, the “vine of Sodom†left with him and eventually took root in the nation of Israel many years later. And it’s still alive today.”
““For they are a nation lacking in counsel, and there is no understanding in them. Would that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would discern their future. … For their vine is from the vine of Sodom, and from the fields of Gomorrah; their grapes are grapes of poison, their clusters, bitter. Their wine is the venom of serpents, and the deadly poison of cobras†(Deuteronomy 32:28-30, 32-33).
What we are witnessing today in America is the vine of Sodom, which is a deadly poison that erodes the moral fabric of a nation. It’s demanding and pervasive, and it refuses to be told, “No.†All across Europe and now throughout America the vine has taken root and is surrounding its prey, and nothing short of a miracle will stop its deadly poison.
Yet it wasn’t the city of Sodom or the people that were the problem; it was the spiritual “vine†of sin that had taken root and perverted the nation. Interestingly, rampant homosexuality was not the “root†of sin in Sodom, but rather the effects of the real root. The prophet Ezekiel said, “‘Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy†(Ezekiel 16:49).
The fertile soil that makes the “vine of Sodom†grow in a nation is when the people are arrogant, overfed and unconcerned. In their pride, they reject God and indulge themselves endlessly, and they are concerned about nobody but themselves. To be honest, this sounds more like professing “Christians†today than anyone.
So today, the newest fruit of the vine of Sodom is the sexual revolution – and it’s poisoning our land. It has nearly taken over everything and is forcing itself on everyone.
Yet it cannot ultimately be removed by “fire and brimstone†from heaven or “common sense laws†from earth. Its ultimate defeat will come when we humble ourselves in repentance and seek God’s face once again. Only the Gospel of Jesus Christ has the power to defeat the real root of the “vine of Sodom.—
I guess my question is: why do they care so much? If what we’re doing as a gay people is so sinful, that’s on us. How does it affect anyone, least of all these two Christians? That’s the part I don’t get. Thankfully, I don’t know either David or Jason Benham. I have no reason to believe either of them are gay. I do, however, have to wonder why they are so obsessed with gay people and gay sex when it really has nothing to do with them. Unless it does…?
The very first time I saw Audra McDonald on stage was in the brilliant ‘Master Class’ with Zoe Caldwell. Back then, in the long-ago 90’s, she played a supporting role to an imperious diva – Maria Callas – yet she absolutely stole the show with a purity and grace and innocence that was both beguiling and beneficent. As written by Terrence McNally, it was Ms. Caldwell’s tour-de-force, but Ms. McDonald’s talent could not be ignored, and she won a Tony for the turn.
The next time I saw Audra McDonald was in the original run of ‘Ragtime‘ – for which she also won a Tony (which was quickly becoming a good habit). Her voice lifted that production, and as much as it was an ensemble piece, she managed to shine and hit the high notes that confirmed her break-out status.
Since then she’s won a few more Tony Awards, but I didn’t get the chance to see her again until HBO broadcast her stunning turn as Billie Holiday in a recording of ‘Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill’ – and what a revelation it was. As I was watching, I was struck by a certain full-circle moment wherein Ms. McDonald had taken the proper lead role that mirrors the monstre sacré to which she had to be subservient in her ‘Master Class’ role. In this production, it is McDonald who plays the diva, and she does it with the fiery exhibition and subtle devastation that makes a Broadway play strike to the very heart of the human spirit. When she slams down the piano cover or fills her own cocktail glass with ice and liquor, she completes the transformation into the iconic status she merely flirted with in ‘Master Class.’ It is a gratifying promise perfectly kept.
This is a mesmerizing performance, punctuated by the brilliant rendition of Ms. Holiday in which McDonald not only inhabits her voice and mannerisms, but takes it to a searing, desperate and doomed emotional level wherein fear and adulation and the ultimate craft of an artist’s brilliance collides with her subject’s iconography. It would be easy to emulate and imitate, but McDonald goes wondrously beyond such mimicry: she becomes Holiday in a way that resurrects her history, and offers both redemption and condemnation. There is truth in that, and courage, and an amazing show that’s as difficult to witness as it necessary for the soul.
Having missed a lovely trip into NYC for a friend’s wedding thanks to snow squalls and winter-in-April insanity, I was hungry for something hopeful, something sunny, something that elicited the promise of spring in the face of all the cold and wind. I turned to future plans for Boston, as well as warm and fuzzy memories of fun times past in that fair city.
When I did that, I started thinking: so much of my life is about the planning and the anticipation. Very rarely do I inhabit the moment and let loose, and for the longest time it’s what I’ve strived to do. There have been periods of happiness when I managed to succeed. As silly as it sounds, Madonna’s ‘Ray of Light’ album helped me do that. It was all about the moment, and making the most of it, and I truly lived in the moment the summer after its release. To this day, I try to reclaim that freedom. Maybe this is the spring and summer it will happen. I hold out the hope…
Even so, it’s fun to plan ahead, and it’s always good to have something to which we might look forward. I know no other way to get through the difficult days. Not in dwelling in the dismal past do we find a way forward. And so, I look ahead to the next party, the next vacation, the next big thing. And the new… always the new… ever the new… Cheers to the new.
Well, an April shower recap to be more precise. In the last week we’ve had hail, snow, rain, wind, sun, and 70 degree temps. Don’t ask why I’m so nutty. If you lived in these extremes you’d be batshit cray cray too. I’m hoping things level off – they’re better when they’re placid. Let’s get into the recap…
The week began with this cock (tail).
The beautiful Matt Vose inserted some hunkiness into the early days of the week.
Things shifted to family affairs, beginning with this look back at my brother’s birthday.
Easter was spent in Amsterdam this year, with Andy and Emi mugging for the camera.
It was the weekend that the twins turned six, and they are as precocious as ever.
A reminder of what this site has always striven to be.
And proof that contradiction is the sign of true genius.
Things returned to their dirty gay porn ways with Hunk of the Day Leo Giamani.
Continuing that thread, a full-frontal cock-tease.
The Delusional Grandeur Tour continued its merry march.
The Warrior Retribution section saw me looking all sorts of ridiculous.
Sunday in New York, backed by Shirley Horn.
Since the cock seemed to rule the week, here’s the Hunk of the Day feature for JoaquÃn Ferreira.
Early this morning, Suzie and I will (weather-permitting) drive to the station to hop a train to New York. We will dine at the Plaza Hotel, then browse the scents at Bergdorf Goodman. After which we’ll make our way to a friend’s wedding, then board the train back home. I can’t think of a lovelier way to spend a Sunday.
And I can’t think of a better soundtrack than Shirley Horn. Here’s her rendition of ‘Sunday in New York.’
New York on Sunday, Big City taking a nap,
Slow down, it's Sunday, Life's a ball, let it fall in your lap.
If you've got troubles, just take them out for a walk.Â
They'll burst like bubbles in the fun of a Sunday in New York.
You can spend time without spending a dime, watching people watch people pass,
Later you pause, and in one of those stores there's that face next to yours in the glass.
Two hearts stop beating, you're both too breathless to speak.
Love smiles her greeting, then the dream that has seen you through the week
Comes true on Sunday in New York.
The Warrior, then, in his armor and skin, a juxtaposition of defense and vulnerability in one puzzling form. Some battles are begun before we even know what and why we’re fighting. The list for carnage is not solely limited to the animal realm. Certain humans have it too. Never the ones who reluctantly put on their armor and charge into the world to defend something worthy of risk, but those who gleefully gain the submission of others. The bloodthirsty who rarely realize such a want can never be satiated. They will try, though, and the battle to safeguard the world from them falls to the warriors who only fight when absolutely necessary.
Which side is this warrior on? Ahh, that is the question. Many a noble-seeming soldier has turned in the end, many a righteous warrior has fallen victim to glory. That’s the real danger, isn’t it? Who can stay steadfast to the marrow…
“A truly brave man is ever serene; he is never taken by surprise; nothing ruffles the equanimity of his spirit. In the heat of battle he remains cool; in the midst of catastrophes he keeps level his mind. Earthquakes do not shake him, he laughs at storms. We admire him as truly great, who, in the menacing presence of danger or death, retains his self-possession; who, for instance, can compose a poem under impending peril or hum a strain in the face of death. Such indulgence betraying no tremor in the writing or in the voice, is taken as an infallible index of a large nature – of what we call a capacious mind, which, far from being pressed or crowded, has always room for something more.” ~ Inazo Nitobe
“For to win one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the acme of skill. To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill.” – Sun Tzu
“The dance of battle is always played to the same impatient rhythm. What begins in a surge of violent motion is always reduced to the perfectly still.” – Sun Tzu
“The work of preservation demands that the feelings playing about in one’s guts not be turned into action. Just watch their passing like cherry blossoms.” ~ Maxine Hong Kingston, ‘The Woman Warrior’
“I learned to make my mind large, as the universe is large, so that there is room for paradoxes.”
~ Maxine Hong Kingston, ‘The Woman Warrior’
“Then I said something I’ve always known.
I don’t know where it came from.
I didn’t get it from you, shall we say
And I didn’t make it up,
But I’ve known it for all my life.
“We’re all under the same sky and walk the same earth; we’re alive together during the same moment.”
~ Maxine Hong Kingston, ‘The Woman Warrior’
This Sunday Suzie and I are attending a wedding in New York (and lunching at the Plaza) as part of The Delusional Grandeur Tour, and next week I touch down in Washington, DC, so our Delusional trek is back on track. Tomorrow’s Tour Book installment features the start of the ‘Warrior Retribution’ section, in which our protagonist fights to win back all that may have been lost in the forest or forgotten in the winter.
Until then, a look back at the sections that have already appeared online:
This site has long hinted at the big reveal of full frontal male nudity. Previously, I’ve veered away from even an artful penis pic because full-frontal nakedness is too much of a distraction. Then there’s the post-full-frontal hangover that comes from having seen it all and realizing that we’re all basically the same human stuff underneath it all. Of course that doesn’t quell the desire to see what everyone’s packing, so here are some reveals for some full-frontal Friday fun. The only question is who has been brave enough to let it all hang out…
Let’s take a look at the hottest contenders, the classic guys from whom everyone wants a gratuitous cock-shot. We begin with none other than David Beckham, who’s teased his ass for the longest time. Will he be the one to turn around today?
Or maybe it’s Ben Cohen, who is a fan favorite in these parts. How low does his manscaping go?
With a dirty new video making the rounds, maybe Nick Jonas finally gives a full-frontal glimpse at the goods, as he hinted at in all his gay-baiting of late.
Finally, after many fakes and false leads, perhaps Zac Efron is the mega-hunk who will pull down his Speedo and shake his money-maker (well, both of them) for the very first full-frontal Friday this blog has ever seen…
If I were a betting man, I’d put my money on Nick Jonas. He seems brave and cocky enough to do it.
Who do you think will be the first?
Scroll down to see…
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Given his background as a police officer, one who had been called on many a time to rescue bus drivers from difficult situations (fights, disputes, traffic infractions, etc.) my husband Andy knows and notices things that someone largely unconcerned with the laws (me) would ignore. Such as the way in which the CDTA buses in downtown Albany routinely refuse to pull into their bus stops, even if they are free and clear of cars. (The ‘No Parking’ signs and the tickets instantly issued to those cars that are in the way usually ensure that there is no one there.) Yet that doesn’t prevent the buses from stopping in the middle of the street instead of pulling over.
This creates a back-up of traffic, particularly at rush hour times, that goes against the very purpose of having a bus-stop. I don’t know whether it’s the hurry to meet schedule demands (as Andy believes), or laziness in not wanting to have to re-enter traffic, but they repeatedly stop in the middle of the street instead of pulling over to let their passengers on and off. That’s not the point of this rant, however. Something much more illegal went down on this morning of March 31, 2016 at about 7:30 AM.
We were pulling up to the intersection of Broadway and Orange, about to take a left onto Orange, and we had a Green light and a green arrow. Andy was in the middle of making the turn when a CDTA Supervisor’s car, License plate AJ9129, sped through a red light, and almost ran right into my passenger side. Andy came to an abrupt stop so as to avoid the collision, and at the last minute the driver stopped so he wouldn’t hit us. Now, I realize you can turn right on red, however you have to stop first, and you do not have the right of way when the oncoming traffic is turning in front of you because they have a green arrow to go. The driver then gave us a dirty look as if we were to blame for his speeding through a red light and almost hitting us. That’s the part that bothered me most.
Luckily, I got dropped off for work a few feet later and watched as the CDTA Supervisor coasted into the bus lot, after which I wrote down the license plate number in the event that CDTA tried to snow us with not being able to identify which vehicle had almost caused an accident. Seeing as how they’ve never responded to any of my Tweets about such antics, or any of Andy’s videos documenting the bus-stop issue, I’m not holding my breath for a response. I just want to start my own record of what they do, as it will no doubt happen again.
While I’m obviously disgruntled with the dangerous actions of the CDTA supervisor that blew through a red light and almost hit us (hey, I was the passenger who would have gotten the brunt of the smash) I’m more dismayed by the operation of the CDTA. Having lived in Albany for the past sixteen years, and having worked downtown for the last ten, I’ve had the privilege of seeing our city grow and evolve, including the infrastructure and public transport that form the heart of any city. When things like this happen, and more importantly when they go unaddressed, it’s a detriment to everyone.
(PS – This is nothing compared to what I hear from people who actually ride the buses.)
“I don’t want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don’t tell the truth, I tell what ought to be truth. And if that is sinful, then let me be damned for it! Don’t turn the light on!” ~ A Streetcar Named Desire
Lately I’ve found myself veering away from the social media saturation that gains followers and friends. It’s been a rather natural progression as the internet and the online world seems to get more and more vitriolic. Maybe it’s the upcoming election cycle, or a world gone mad with dismal prospects, but whatever the case it hasn’t been as fun being online, so I’ve delved into other pursuits. The timing is good for such, as the gardens will soon be beckoning for attention and revamping. I’ll also be setting up some travel plans for upcoming tour stops, and being online will take a second or third seat to all that real-life excitement and enjoyment.
If there’s one thing I try to create with this blog it’s an atmosphere of calm and peace – yes, I want it to be fun and thoughtful and sexy at the same time – but most of all I want it to be a respite from the rest of the chattering and screaming and arguing that constitutes an average visit to any site that enables comments – or the general madness of FaceBook and Twitter.
I’m not promising there won’t be the occasional bit of political commentary (we have crazy clowns running for President right now) but that’s not the main theme of this place, and it never has been. Like Blanche DuBois in ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ I want beauty most of all. Kindness and beauty and a belief in the possibility of redemption, no matter where we’ve come from, and no matter what we’ve done. There’s a world full of Stanleys out there – people who will do their damnedest to lay a Queen low, people who exult in the destruction and downfall of others – but fuck all of that. Naysayers and negativity will have no place here or in my home, and I’ll banish all such nonsense even if it means leaving behind those who have been with me for many years.
Nobody can argue that I don’t face the cold hard truth head-on, but this is a choice I’ve made and will continue to make. Those who want to indulge in their bad moods and antagonistic tendencies will not be tolerated. I’m too old to care about hurting feelings. Let this be a space for kindness and contentment, for fun and frivolity, for the occasional bit of snarkiness and sarcasm, but certainly not only for that. Above all, let it be a space for beauty and prettiness and glamour and the very best version of ourselves that we can be.
Behold the pig. Both beloved and bemoaned, adored and abhorred, what other animal garners such extremes of praise and condemnation? I’ve been in a pig state of mind lately, from all the Easter ham to a recent revisit of the amazing movie ‘Misery’ – which remains a frightening film.
When you think about the pig, for purposes of eating, it’s also quite a variable creature. The traditional pork – nicknamed the other white meat – is from the same source as those spirals hams, yet they look nothing alike. And where does bacon come into play in this conundrum? So much confusion, all from a single oinker.
Porky or Peppermint, give me a pig and I’m a happy camper.
Today marks the 6th Birthday for my niece and my nephew. I still remember the rainy day on which they came into this world, and how tiny and cute they were. They’re still a little of both, and they are just beginning to come into their own and develop their own personality quirks. We celebrated with a gathering at the Saratoga Children’s Museum (after which I insisted on a dinner at Sperry’s – because we all need a little light at the end of the kids’ party tunnel.)
I’d been told by friends who have children that this was a great spot. I guess they were talking about the children, as I found nothing of interest here. However, with those who have retained a child-like imagination, who remain entranced by a bit of make-believe, I can see the allure and the fun in the space. In fact, if I were six again, I’d have loved this place, so watching them run around and play their little games was amusing, and made me glad they were still kids.
The birthday boy and girl enjoyed the various rooms and set-ups, stocking up in the pantry…
And answering the phone at the reception desk.
As always, Andy enjoyed playing with the balls and surveying transportation replicas.
There were farm animals on hand too, in plastic form so as not to make a mess of things.
My favorite part, however, may have been in capturing the following series of shots wherein the twins are enjoying their birthday pizza and cake, with my brother unintentionally mugging in the background.
This group of photos is crying out for captions beyond which I’m willing to give – so I’ll let them speak for themselves.
As I’ve seen at many of these things, much of the time finds the men (and women) standing around awkwardly, which is about all a supportive Dad can do. (And a supportive pair of Uncles.) Our work finished, we headed to Sperry’s. We’ll catch up with the twins to give them our gifts at a quieter time. For now, we wish them a Happy 6th Birthday!
