Category Archives: Family

If you’re anything like me, and for your sake I hope to God you’re not, you will already have begun your holiday shopping. I’ve only made a small dent in mine, but it’s an admirable dent and I look to continue that this weekend. For those seeking unique and one-of-a-kind gifts, particularly in the rustic furniture line, check out my brother’s shop in Ballston Spa: DeadWood Field & Furniture. It’s a cozy little nook in a cozy little town, and a perfect jumping-off point for holiday gift gathering.

Much of the focus is on his hand-crafted wooden furniture – rustic, bold, and teeming with echoes of the Adirondacks that surround us. His pieces can be custom-ordered and designed to your own specifications. Don’t be afraid to think and propose things that seem out-of-the-box. I’ve seen him rise to the challenge of corner shelving, kids’ coat cubbies, dining room sets, and bed frames. He’s crafted portable kitchen islands that can be moved as needed, sliding wooden doors, and plant stands for indoor or outdoor use.

Not that you’re limited to immense, stalwart big-ticket pieces – there are a number of smaller items for your browsing and buying pleasure, something to fit those hard-to-buy-for people who have everything.

It’s worth a look-see, and then amble on down the street to visit the rest of Ballston Spa – it’s got some great old-school charm, a couple of restaurants and cafes, and several other interesting shops. It’s almost the season, and I’m starting to get excited.

It’s my annual belated birthday wish to my father, who has the distinction of being born on a day now marked with infamy – 9/11. As such, he gets his birthday shout-out a day late, but with no less fanfare. He’s never been the biggest self-trumpeter, but without our birthdays we wouldn’t be here, so we celebrate such things with his indulgence. Happy Birthday Dad!

As for the previous week, it was mostly about Washington, DC. From brunch with a baby to dinners with an old friend, it was a typically monumental visit. Everybody needs some time all alone. Farewell for now, sweet whimsical Washington.

Summer started to go to seed.

This I promise you.

Don’t you wanna dance?

How sweet it is.

Eat her out.

The Hunks of the Day were all from across-the-pond: Jack Whitehall, Danny Mac, & Ashley Cain.

I’m not claiming that title.

Yet.

Today is somehow ‘Gay Uncles Day’ which is ridiculous and wonderful and something I want nothing to do with unless gifts are involved. In a world where the hunt for the next Hallmark Holiday has run dry, leave it to the Gay Uncles to step up the fabulousness. (Though I do wonder why the Gay Aunts aren’t included.)

It just so happens that my niece and nephew will be visiting us for a summer dinner later today, so we’ll celebrate in our own way (likely with Uncle Al doing their bidding). They’ve provided a bright spot in this otherwise rather dark summer, and for that I am grateful. Summer’s not over yet, and I’m reminded of that in the exuberance of a child. Or two.

The chant in the field was infectious, and I couldn’t help but join in: “No hitter, can’t hit” – CLAP-CLAP – “No hitter, can’t hit” – CLAP-CLAP. If I could have been a baseball cheerleader, I would have been in my pom-pom glory, but since I couldn’t (and since there weren’t any) I had to find other ways of amusing myself at my brother’s Pee-Wee baseball games. I was reminded of this when we attended my nephew’s last game of the season. As we sat in the setting sun of a rather beautiful summer day, my mind returned to the games of my brother’s youth. At such times it wasn’t my youth ~ I was on the outside, aloof on the periphery while the real action swirled somewhere in the middle. I liked that vantage point.  I went unnoticed, blending into the background, which made my disappearance unremarkable.

Behind almost every field at which his team played (Bacon School, Veteran’s Field, Isabel’s) there was a path that led to a stream or creek. Some of these were barely running in the heat of summer, but some were almost rivers. I’d slowly soften my chant and sneak away, out of the sight or sound of the game, and into a secret world hidden behind leaves and trees and the winding half-hearted paths that led to the water.

Not unlike today, I was drawn to the water back then. The sound of it trickling or moving along, the way the light danced on its rippling surface, and the creatures that made its wet environs their home ~ all of it entranced me. Being landlocked in upstate New York instilled a longing that found expression in my fascination with all sorts of water bodies and tributaries.

On those summer afternoons, as the light slowly began to drain from the sky, I’d walk along the water’s edge. The muffled shouts from the game faded as I listened to the gurgling brook, or the unexpected splash of some hidden animal. In the cool surroundings of the leafy forest, summer felt secret and solitude felt safe.

I’d rejoin the dusty dry game as it neared its final stretch, returning to the noise and the tumult, but quieter in my heart. Nature could tame my emotional wilderness better than any other form of exertion. Like running around bases and hitting balls.

I remembered those games as I watched my nephew make his way to first base, and my niece meander around the perimeter of the field. We are each lost in our own world, but if we’re lucky we meet up again at the end of the game.

For Father’s Day, the family gathered in our backyard, where my niece and nephew enjoyed their favorite pool. The day was practically perfect – sunny, warm, but with a nice breeze – necessary for these shade-free times. Andy barbecued some chicken thighs, Elaine brought her delicious potato salad, and Mom had made a couple of strawberry-rhubarb pies. We also had the twins’ birthday gifts from many moons ago for them to open. It was a day of many celebrations.

First and foremost was the arrival of summer, to which the twins splashed in jovial fashion. By the grace of God I managed to not throw my back out when tossing them over my head, but it wasn’t easy. Uncle Al is too old to play these strenuous games.

As my brother is also a father, we celebrated him as well.

In the end, the twins expelled all their energy for the ride home and an early bedtime. Sometimes that’s the best gift you can give any father: tiring their children out. You are very welcome.

For all the fathers out there, this post goes out to you for all that you do. I’d say that being a good father ranks second only to being a good mother as far as thanklessness goes. When we’re kids, we don’t always appreciate what we have – and sometimes when we’re adults we need a reminder of that too. To be fair, I’ve always been grateful and appreciative of my father – so that doesn’t change with today – it only gets celebrated and notated a little more than usual.

As for today’s celebration, the family is coming over for some time by the pool – which is probably not my Dad’s first wish, but sometimes Father’s Day is for the kids. Being a good sport is part of being a good Dad – and I have one of the best.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.

We threw a low-key 41st birthday pizza party for Suzie and the family, and seeing these smiling faces are just what this blog, and this week, needs right now. Happy memories, happy times, happy friends and family. This is how we feel. This is how we heal. This is how we find happiness. Let’s do it again next year.

This space and date is usually reserved for some ridiculous photo of Suzie Ko, given that it’s her birthday. This year I’m switching it up and keeping it brief and simple (and without that infamous wet shot of us walking a mile in our bathing suits). Of course a silly hat photo remains, but that’s the only kind of photo she really takes…

There’s no need to go into our lifelong history together – it’s been well-documented in ways both of us would likely like to forget, and if you’re a regular reader of my nonsense you know that she’s a prominent character in my cast of favorites.

As for what 41 will bring her, I hope it’s more of the same – health, happiness, and a fun-loving family that makes her one of the luckiest people I know.

Happy Birthday Suzie!! Pizza and cake forthcoming!

Such was the refrain that my brother and I recorded over and over on a ‘Stop Smoking’ audio tape we made for our Uncle when we were just kids. It was our attempt at getting him to do something healthy, and we made it as much for our amusement as for our underlying fear that he’d die from all those cigarettes. We didn’t know any better then – we thought people could change that quickly and easily. I think that’s the part of childhood I miss the most – that sense of infinite possibility, and the ability to believe in anything. We need more of that now.

As for smoking, I never really got into it. I dabbled over the years – trying cloves and bidis before Marlboro lights – but for some reason I was lucky enough never to get hooked. It was a social thing at first, to get an extra break at work when my friends were going out, or a photo prop, done for effect and accessory over any real enjoyment or addiction.

It’s strange – part of me wanted to get addicted to something, playing up the attraction to a darker side – but it was never really true. Why I felt the need to appear as such, I’ll never know, but that’s another post for the denouement of the Delusional Grandeur Tour.

Light ’em up.

Rustic elegance.

Woodsy sophistication.

If you’re looking for something couture and personally customized for your home, look no further than Dead Wood Field & Furniture. (Damn, I should do this for a living.) This is a promotional post for my brother, because in addition to hooking him up with a magnificent webmaster and taking some decent photos of his goods and wares, I’m now pimping out prime space here to direct you to his new website. (Most of which is populated by my photos.) I’m still waiting for him to me help out with some brick work, but I digress… (And I’m not actually waiting anymore as I finally had to do it myself. He can owe me another time.)

As for Dead Wood Field & Furniture, it’s a pretty impressive endeavor, and based on the early popularity of his pieces, my brother can craft and sell an item that places like Restoration Hardware could only dream of. Since much of his work is customized, it has an artisanal slant that’s all the rage right now. If you’re looking for something specific, or something out of the ordinary that you envision (or have seen elsewhere), get in touch with him.

He’s done pieces as small as miniature coat racks for kids all the way to dining room tables that could fit about a dozen. His style is rustic and wood-heavy, substantial and unpretentious. It’s not my style, but it has its own sort of beauty. (My style has never been popular with the mainstream anyway.)

In addition to the furniture work, he offers a number of fun “field” accessories to accent the forest-inspired motif, and they’re available at his Ballston Spa location. Rustic metallic fixtures, leather-bound books, and even baseball caps with the Dead Wood logo come together to create an atmosphere of kindred coziness. His store on Front Street brackets a bustling little bit of Ballston Spa that was a revelation to me when I first visited. Stores and restaurants lined the throwback-to-another-era, and there was even a spa and hotel nearby. Definitely worth a weekend trip to check it out.

{Dead Wood Field & Furniture has its own website as well as a FaceBook page. The store is open most weekends, but call ahead to confirm hours – (518) 605-1276.}

A late-in-the-day post dedicated to my Mom on this special day. We’ll be belatedly celebrating on our semi-somewhat-annual Broadway trip to New York in a couple of weeks, but for now a bookmark of thanks for being such a great Mom and grandmother.

In many ways, I am who I am today because of her. She’s the one who first taught me how to put together an outfit, the one who showed me the fun and joy in shopping, and the one who instilled a love of traveling, with her impeccably-planned summer vacations. She kept the family together when three men were consistently at odds with one another, and formed the pillar of our home when my brother’s and my growing pains threatened to tear it all down. Because of her, our family remains a family to this day. Throughout it all, she maintained a sense of style and class that inspired me to carry myself a certain way, no matter how I might be feeling on the inside, a grace that is a continual reminder to keep going whenever I feel like giving up.

Happy Mother’s Day to the greatest Mom in the world – and to all the Moms out there. It’s the hardest job anyone can do, but it’s never gone unnoticed.

Today marks the 6^th 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 6^th Birthday!