Category Archives: General

This marks the first week I’ll be working from home, and I’m very afraid I won’t be very good at it. In many respects, I’m an old-fashioned guy, a Virgo addicted to structure and most at home within a rigid regiment of scheduling and organization. Plus I can’t imagine what everyone is going to be wearing. That’s a horror show I just don’t want to entertain. Anyway, on with the recap, as there will likely be more missives from the home-front now that we’re stuck here for the foreseeable future. That’s Life. 

A parade of Hunks now seems like such a quaintly superficial exercise in prettiness, and in times such as this it’s imperative that we keep such nonsense going. 

The world seemed to fall apart before our eyes. News changed by the minute, and drastically so, and suddenly it felt best to face everything head-on with the simple realization that we are most definitely fucked. 

St. Patrick’s Day got lost in the shuffle, but we have this gingerific post of hot red-headed gents to remind you of the reason for the season. 

How to fly under the radar while wearing hot pink Tom Ford boxer briefs. 

Botanical fireworks were the only explosions I wanted to see or sniff.

The first day of spring came early this year, at odds with the hopeless sense of foreboding that was otherwise going around. Still, spring came despite everything else, and there’s a small seed of happiness in that. 

For those parents or guardians stumped on how to fill a day with activities for the cherubs stuck at home, I give you Uncle Al’s Guide to Home-Schooling: Completely and Totally Untried Tips & Tricks for Kids and Shit. 

A week like this required some breathing room, something to which we may have to become quickly accustomed. 

Being alone takes practice. I’ve had years, but no one could prepare for the world as it currently is. I wish us both luck.

A few friends have indicated they’ve had trouble sleeping of late. To combat that, I compiled a post of 231 links for anyone who needs to be knocked out by the mediocre and mundane miscellany I’ve posted here for the past seventeen years. 

Things got somber and serious for a moment, and as our stores and offices and places of worship and gathering go dark, I offer this as a wish that we may find each other here and on other social media platforms. Isolated but not alone. 

Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ album celebrated the anniversary of its release in 1989. Times were simpler then. I wanna take you there…

And speaking of the 80’s, here is my underwear-clad homage to ‘Weird Science’ and all its crop-topped glory. Who knows what my closets might cough up this week? 

Hunks of the Day included Dominic Albano, Matthew Dempsey, Telly Leung, Russell Todd, Tom Goss and Sam Morrison.

Every now and then I have a moment of learning that happens in real time, not in retrospect, and I am completely aware it is happening as it happens. Most recently it occurred at a coffeehouse across the street from my office building. It was on my last full day at the office before we began isolation. All I wanted on my lunch break was a coffee and a cookie, preferably served with a minimum of small talk and chatter.

The barista lit up when I walked in. A sign indicating that they were only doing take-out orders, and that people could no longer use mugs brought in from home, hung on the door. The times were changing at a rapid pace. Already downtown Albany was largely deserted. Most of the places that had been open since I started my first state job in 2001 were closed. There was an apocalyptic feel in the air, a strange sense of doom and foreboding. Spring had arrived, but it was cloaked in a strange sickness. I remained upbeat, closing the door behind me and ordering a coffee and a kitchen sink cookie. If this was the last time I would be in this coffeehouse, I’d be damned if I didn’t get a cookie.

I asked how long they were going to be open and he said as long as payroll can afford to keep people on, they’d be open. I was happy to hear it. I didn’t know then that I wouldn’t be downtown for a while, and all I cared about was the supply of coffee and cookies ~ something that suddenly seemed to be in danger. He continued talking, always a risk when you open up a line of seemingly-innocuous questioning, and often why I tend not to engage. My inner voice sighed and started its usual loop of ‘Please stop talking to me, please stop talking to me, please stop talking to me’ while my real voice said empty words of agreement, my head nodded up and down, and my eyes darted elsewhere.

Then he paused as he handed me the cup of coffee. “It’s not really about business or payroll, it’s about this, and he motioned to me and our interaction, “It’s about the social connection.” My inner voice was about to make a sarcastic quip, but stopped itself.

“You’re right,” I said out loud.

I turned to go out the door and looked back, wanting to say something more, but he was already back on his phone, head down and typing away. I guess our limited social exchange was enough for the moment. 

The next day, most of our office was sent home. I thought I would be relieved at the news ~ and health-wise and social-distance wise I am. Yet as much as I know it’s for the best, I’m conflicted. As I looked at Marline and later at Skip doing his FaceBook live posts to reach out, I realized how difficult it would be for everyone else, especially those for whom social interaction is such a vital and important part of their make-up. My heart broke a little as I said a quick goodbye to Sherri and Jen, and I understood that I might not see my friends for a while. Lorie drove me home and I was grateful for one last bit of time with her. Later that day, Suzie dropped off a board game ~ Life, no less ~ that I had asked for in service of a photo shoot. I had assembled a bunch of ridiculous nonsense for her and her family in a large shopping bag, so we made a quick exchange. She stood a good ten feet away as I hovered in the doorway. Maybe I need people more than I realize. Maybe I’m a bit more social than I thought I was. Maybe this is loneliness.

Any socially-anxious introvert will gladly tell you that being in isolation is not exactly a bad thing. To be honest, I was waiting for the opportunity to try it out, to see how enjoyable it would be for those of us who have to muster an enormous reserve of energy simply to get through an average day of interacting with people ~ strangers, friends and family alike. What I was not expecting was the wave of empathy and emotion that came from seeing how it affected others. People like my friends Chris and Marline and Skip are at their best when they are surrounded by friends and loved ones. They need that physical engagement and interaction, they need that connection. They need that hug. It’s what helps them thrive and survive in this crazy world. 

The guy at the cafe reminded me of that, and as I headed home for who knew how long, my heart broke not for my loneliness, but for theirs. 

Upon first appearance, this may seem like a relatively short post for my long–winded ass. That’s because it contains a multitude of secrets behind each and every word (even the ‘and’s and ‘but’s). Yes, you lucky readers and seekers and finders of endless nonsense, every single word in this post is a link to another blog entry. Normally, my links are long and luxurious, strung together by a collection of words for easy clicking and instant access to a relevant topic. Not so today. This will bring you to this and this will bring you to this and this, well, you don’t even want to know where that (this) will bring you. Think of the entire post as a Quasi–Choose–Your–Own–Adventure that will open doors you never even dreamed existed. Oh what times we’re going to have!

Suzie and I once half–heartedly almost started a fanzine – wait that wasn’t the term… damn, the memory is gone – anyway, a homemade magazine – and we were going to title it ‘Smorgasbord’ because we didn’t know any better. I still don’t, so click away and see what you find. Bookmark this page too, for whenever you need something to occupy your time, like late at night when your brain is too fried to sleep and too exhausted to chew on anything of substance. It’s better than a crossword puzzle. Promise.

In this post I mentioned that the first part of getting through a time of social distancing was to be ok with being in your own company. I didn’t elaborate because that is a topic that could take years to fully unload and dissect, and it really is different for each individual. For me, social distancing comes rather easy. It is my natural state to turn toward solitude. Being alone has never been frightening or bothersome – I’ve welcomed it at every turn. Most humans are more sociable than that, however, so suddenly going without regular human interaction may be uncomfortable and scary. The only piece of advice I can offer is to move through it. Experience it. Feel it. Sit in silence, alone and without your phone or other distractions, and feel the fear. Lean into the discomfort. Face it and honor what you’re feeling. Take a deep breath slowly in and let it slowly out. Focus on that breath. Take another. See if you can slow down enough to take ten deep breaths, thinking only of that breath and counting each one off as you inhale and exhale.

I don’t pretend this will be easy. Even for someone who enjoys solitude, it took some getting used to. We’ve spent the last decade or so surrounding ourselves with noise and alerts and text whistles and a hurried pace of life that is clearly not sustainable if we are all to survive. We don’t know how to stop and sit still. We don’t know how to exist in silence. We don’t know how to survive without distraction. And so it will be difficult the first few times you find yourself alone with only your breathing. You will likely feel antsy, like you should be doing something else – anything else – but just sit with that for a while. Sit with yourself. At the most difficult times in life, at the easiest times in life, at the happiest and the most sorrowful, you’ve had one constant companion, even if you’ve always looked to or been surrounded by others. The one single person who’s been through it all, right by your side, and will be until the end – the sole person who will never desert you. 

This realization can be upsetting and jarring for some people. We want so badly to think that life only matters when there is love, and love always seems to involve another person, but that’s not really the case. There’s self-love, which gets more of a bad rap these days than it deserves, and I’ll admit there are all sorts of self-love that aren’t genuine and aren’t what I’m talking about here. See, this branches off into so many other areas it’s impossible to make sense in a post or two, but it’s a start. And it’s worth the effort. Because if you can be happy with being alone with yourself, you will always have the best company no matter what happens.

Every now and then it feels like things get too dense around here. At those times I will inject a bit of levity, some whimsical flower or feather to give a little breathing room, just so we don’t all suffocate from all the preciousness on display.

Doing its part for that purpose, this Lenten rose brings us a dose of beauty and simplicity. A freshness to shake off the dusty wings that winter has refused to let fly. All I ask is that you pause for a moment in your day – not now if this is an inconvenient time – but at some point pause and take in the beauty of this simple bloom. Take the moment for yourself, take it as the briefest form of meditation in a day that may be otherwise rushed or hushed or embattled with worldly concerns. But do take it. You deserve that much. And having taken it, you will be better able to be of service to others. Whether it’s getting a meal together for your family, or taking out the dog or trash, or simply being a little kinder to the person with whom you spend your life.

These little things matter.

The littlest blooms count.

Boys and girls, young and old, step right up and prepare the way for Uncle Al’s Homeschooling Hoopla! The following schedule is a super-serious take on how I might conduct a day of homeschooling activities for kids of all ages and religious denominations. We’ll begin at 8 sharp! {Feel free to use all or any of this if you need help composing a day of activities for your children. I am here for you. Pluck the knowledge from my child-caring plumage!}

8:00- 8:30 AM ~ Rise & Wine Breakfast: And by ‘8 AM’ that means I don’t want to see you before 8:15. What kind of beast shows up for a party on time? Now, if it’s 8:15 we shall begin with a little light wine. Oh shit, you can’t do alcohol, can you? Well, what about a mimosa? Still no? Ok, avocado toast and a perfectly poached egg. Why are you looking at me like that? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!

8:30 – 8:58 AM ~ Primping & Poetry: To the words of Mary Oliver or Dorothy Parker (depending on what sort of mood the rug-rats put me in) we will lounge languorously, mirrors in hand, primping and perfecting our hair for the long day ahead. Appearance is tantamount to talent in today’s world. Better you learn that here before some cruel child teaches you the hard way!

8:58 – 10 AM ~ Silent Reading: I said silent, mofos! Or, as the kids text me these days, STFU! #shhh

10:00 – 11:00 AM ~ Yoga for Beginners: when done correctly, yoga is more than gentle breathing, it can be a veritable work out. This will stretch their little bodies while hinting at a spirituality and calm that will likely mean nothing to them, and that they will likely never achieve. Downward, you dogs.

11:00 – 11:17 AM ~ The Music of Madonna: a daily dose of Madonna does wonders for a child’s mind. We’ll begin with ‘Erotica‘, move through ‘Medellin‘, and finish off with ‘Secret Garden.’ There’s a certain satisfaction in a little bit of pain. #WWMD

11:17 – 11:29 AM ~ Snack/Crack Break: maybe something with peanut butter? Allergies, you say? Take half a Zyrtec and calm the fuck down. I’ll put it in the peanut butter like we do for dogs. Eat it on a Ritz. We got Cheez Whiz too.

11:29 AM – 12:00 PM ~ Lunch Break: yes, we just had a snack. What are you gonna do? Call Child Rejection Services? Good luck, I already tried! And tell them to bring food because all that’s left is olives.

12:00 – 1:51 PM ~ Creative Crafting & Messy Shit That You Better Clean Up Or This Will Never Happen Again: beading, painting, drawing, coloring, diorama-making, pom-pom-making, advanced beading, crocheting, needlework, hyper-advanced beading, scarf-tying, sand-in-the-bottle bullshit, and all the like. Let your creative juices flow! And if you get any on the rug I’ll beat you with whatever nonsense you just made.

1:51 – 2:14 PM ~ Princess walking: how to walk like a Princess. (If time allows we will delve into how to wave like one too.)

2:14 – 2:30 PM ~ Snatching crowns: this quick lesson concerns learning the oft-forgotten art of taking the glory that would otherwise go to someone else.  Snatch the crown of another, even if you didn’t earn it! One step beyond self-defense, this is about going on the attack before anyone gets a chance to attack you. I didn’t make the world we live in, I’m just trying to prepare you for it. I don’t want to alarm anyone either; ignore these life-lessons at your own future-peril.

2:30 – 3 PM ~ Millinery: the lost artisan skill of hat-making deserves to flourish again. I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Extra points for extra feathers, and a veil wins the day.

3:00 – 3:33PM ~ Mindful meditation: at least, we intend to begin with some mindful meditation. I’m certain that a thimble of nighttime cough syrup will aid in the desired state of restful sleep that will actually slide this half-hour into at least 47 minutes.

3:33 well, 3:47 – 4:00 PM ~ Sugar Send-Off: right before it’s time to send the wee ones packing and back to their parents, I shall fill them up with Pop Rocks, Sweet Tarts, chocolate chip cookies, cathedral windows, ice cream, soda, maybe a dusting of crack, and some CBD to calm them all down. Bye kids! And parents, please leave with the one you brought and not that magnificent silk wrap you’ve been eyeing. I see you.

“He was simply someone who floated through our lives and didn’t seem to care how flatly he perceived everyone or that he’d shared our secret failures with the world, showcasing the youthful indifference, the gleaming nihilism, glamorizing the horror of it all.” ~ Bret Easton Ellis

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We hereby banish winter for (almost) the rest of the year! 

That doesn’t mean the darkness has been completely eradicated.

Our world is in sorry shape. 

There is much work to be done. 

The damage of a winter, no matter how benign, takes some time to correct. 

But spring does it every time. 

This year, I think we just need to help it out a bit. And it will feel good to help. 

Spring gives us a renewed sense of drive and purpose. I’ve been feeling that little spark in the past couple of weeks. While everything seemed to go to shit, my heart sailed through on the crest of some radical belief system I didn’t even realize I had. Maybe you’ve realized the shift that’s been happening since last fall. It feels so far away now, and only when looking back do I see the distance that’s been traversed. Perhaps that’s why I don’t like to look back that often. It’s exhausting to think of what we’ve done and been through. 

Instead, we look ahead. 

To the return of warmth.

To the return of glamour. 

To the return of spring. 

“Our insignificance is often the cause of our safety.” ~ Aesop

It’s not always easy to be inconspicuous, especially if you love color and drama and frills that the majority of the populace simply doesn’t celebrate on a daily basis. My own personal hell is that as much as I love over-the-top style, I simultaneously abhor the attention. While I’m much better at accepting compliments graciously at this point in life, there’s a bigger part of me that would rather not be bothered. I have never dressed to impress anyone other than myself. A lot of people don’t seem to understand that, which is fine. Those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter, or however Dr. Seuss put it.

As for being insignificant, Aesop uses the term in the opening sentence not in a negative way, but as an indicator of going unnoticed. Flying under the radar. Blending in with the masses. And it’s not a bad thing. Herding and pack behavior has saved many an animal from death at the jaws of a predator. The appropriately convincing camouflage has hidden many a potential victim from attack. And donning sweat-pants, t-shirt and baseball cap has allowed me to traverse the grocery store without drawing stares and looks at any sort of fabulous ensemble in which I might have otherwise outfitted myself. Most days I like it best to be left alone, Greta-Garbo-fashion, lost behind a pair of oversized sunglasses, hidden in a sea of workout wear, disguised in plain, mainstream sight. That notion simply doesn’t jive with my style, and so I’m left with the conundrum. First world problems for a first world denizen.

Having canceled every single one of the amazing events that were scheduled for New York this past weekend, I found myself oddly at peace with the whole turn of events. Normally, I’d be emotionally scarred and mentally bruised (I still have stress when I think of a Miami trip that was doomed due to a winter snowstorm over seventeen years ago).  This time around, maybe it’s because I’m older, maybe it’s because I’ve reprioritized things, or maybe all the meditation I’ve been practicing has kept my resting-state freak-out mechanism from being triggered. Whatever the reason, I’m glad such calm has become a part of my life.

The candle pictured is from my friend Marline, who gave it to me just before this most recent bout of Mercury in retrograde began. I’ve been lighting it before I do my meditation each evening, and it has brought me much light and peace. To that end, may this be a post of peace and calm as well, in times as troubled as any I can remember. (And I lived through the last great stock market crash of 1987 ~ I was dancing to ‘Who’s That Girl’ at the time, I believe, or the ‘You Can Dance’ remix compilation.)

It sounds like there may be a lot of people home for the next couple of weeks, and while this has never been the place where kids congregate, as a rule, everyone is welcome to visit and pass the time looking through the archives and searching out anything of interest in that little earth box at the bottom left when you scroll down. Type in anything! I’ve written about all sorts of nonsense about which I know little to nothing, and it’s always fun to see what idiocy and lunacy came out on this blog just a few short months ago. 

As for how to get through social distancing and being alone, I have some tricks for that too. Well, not so much tricks as practices I’ve perfected from a lifetime of unconscious social distancing. It pays to be an introvert at times like this. The first and most important lesson is to learn how to be ok being alone. Much easier said than done, it involves liking your own company. So many of us simply don’t like ourselves. Oh we pretend we do, and in such obvious ways we metaphorically scream how much we love ourselves, but rarely in a genuine, healthy way. Selfies don’t count. Neither does pride in appearance. If you can’t sit quietly in a room by yourself, you might not really like the company of yourself. And I would begin these next few days by asking yourself why that might be. That’s the place to start. 

Shall we commence?

More than a trend, social distancing may be the lifesaving move that keeps millions safe, provided we all practice it. I don’t have much faith that America can do that. But if I can forego a fabulous weekend in New York, then you can stop going out for a couple of weeks. I’m not here to preach – I’m here to entertain and work out my own creative outlet in the process. It also turns out that this little corner of the internet is a space where some have found comfort along with entertainment and exasperation. We will get through this together. So pull up a chair, grab your tea or coffee, take a deep breath – no, really, stop and take a deep breath – slowly in and slowly out – drop your hunched shoulders a bit, and relax for this recap of things that were supposed to happen this week, things that did happen, and things that didn’t. It was all meant to unfold exactly as it did. 

I was going to wear this bejeweled coat beneath the bright lights of Broadway this weekend – it was something I’d been working on for the past three months – and perhaps the lesson and enjoyment was in the work getting there rather than any ostentatious show. 

When the music didn’t play.

Daniel Craig went shirtless while his Bond movie got delayed.

Ricky Martin and Enrique Iglesias may be making some beautiful music together. 

Wash your hands like you were washing these naked male celebrities. 

Dinner with an old friend. 

Paperwhites on parade.

Plans change, plots fizzle, but friendship remains. 

Hidden hints of spring. 

Citrus dreaming. 

New Boston bedding.

Boston blues. 

Bare naked solitude.

Hunks of the Day included Sergio Guadarrama, Carl Radke, Will Taylor and Cody Fern. 

After several seasons of using this Marimekko bed collection, I decided that this spring the Boston condo needed a breath of new life. Nothing updates a small space better than new bedding, so I found this subdued chartreuse duvet cover with a hint of chinoiserie. The entwined tendrils of tropical vines and birds of exotic plumage lend it the perfect look to see us through the rest of summer too. While the brightness of the Marimekko was a boon to the warmer months, this one has a richness and depth that I like, and temperature-wise it’s just as cool. As we are all getting older it’s time to appreciate such a shift; the light, flighty, flimsy trappings of spring and youth will not last, and it’s important to recognize that. It need not be something that we mourn – we were all young once – and the important thing is to keep your heart and mind youthful while embracing the advance of age and, ideally, wisdom.

To contrast the golden aspect of this particular shade of green, I found a touch of deep aquamarine in a couple of textured pillows. I love the way these colors play off each other, a variation of certain wedding invitations and decorations.

It’s precisely the jolt the bedroom needed at this time of the year, when all is bright and hopeful, and the grays and browns of this early stage need a little extra push of color. Come May and June the outside will have caught up to the inside, but for now this is what will have to do. Enchantment is often conjured by mind over matter.

As for spring, it is but a week away, and I can’t wait. A promise kept is reassurance that the world is occasionally kind, and spring is a more reliable covenant than a rainbow.

A lifelong dream: to have the ideal conditions and climate to grow citrus trees, whether indoors or outside, a garden room or a warmer latitude. The idea of such a garden room has been haunting me for decades, especially when we limp into the final stretch of winter. Lemon trees and lime trees, despite their tart fruit, have the sweetest blossoms. Oranges too. To have access to that perfume at this time of year has proved an elusive goal. Even the greenhouses up here seem to have a tough time with their citrus, or maybe they just sell so quickly I don’t notice them enough.

There is nothing more soul-satisfying than taking in a deep breath of a lemon flower on a bitter winter morning, a moment that recalls scenes of tropical splendor even if you’ve never been to paradise. I’ve created my own connotation, using the sweet fragrance of the orange blossom to indicate a summer day – no matter how hot it might get (what luxury to complain of the heat!) the perfume instantly conjures refreshment and a cooling calm. It has rescued many a heat-wave-beleaguered visit to Boston and New York. It’s also accompanied me poolside on those lazy days when all you need is a book and a glass of iced tea.

Alas, until we get notified about winning the HGTV Dream House in South Carolina or the latest Powerball drawing, such things as a garden room with a grove of citrus trees will have to occupy dreams of the day and night. We will make other arrangements, perhaps an orange blossom soap, or a neroli cologne, to conjure the enchantment of the citrus bloom.

In the micro-climate behind our grill, a daffodil has already poked the first straps of its green leaves through the ground, along with a flower bud. I hadn’t been looking for such signs of life because it’s much earlier than they usually appear, but it caught my attention as I made one of the first surveys of the yard. It gave me a thrill of hope, not so much for the global warming as for the return of spring. Even if this was a tease and a great big snowstorm comes to take it all away, we’re nearing the best time of the year. It put me in the mind of summer days and pool gatherings…

We have a minor revamping of our pool in the works for this year – a new liner and stairs if all goes according to plan – and such thoughts are happy and plausible goals to have. To get there, though, requires some forethought, and that’s what I do best. I’ve been making an earnest attempt to live in the moment, but the Virgo in me adores a plan of action, however loose or subject to change it may be. With a basic structure in place, all the adornments can be made, and adornments are the best part of life.

Since we moved in to our home almost two decades ago, we’ve both been chagrined by having to use a ladder to get in and out of the pool. A set of steps would be easier on Andy’s back, more aesthetically pleasing, and afford additional lounging opportunities for visitors to the pool. (And I don’t mean the squirrels.)

There have been a lot of changes to our yard in the last few years. A pair of cherry trees bloomed reliably early every spring, but eventually grew too big for their allotted space and had to be excised. A small patch of lilies of the valley took over the edge of the yard and now pokes up through the lawn, but they’re so pretty I’ve left them alone for now. The thin row of Thuja ‘Green Giant’ plants have grown into a living wall that threatens to overtake the narrow walkway along which it grows. We lost two prime specimens of Fargesia nitida – the fountain bamboo – part of the mass-flowering and subsequent die-off that only occurs once a century; I will look to find a couple to replace them now that that batch has finished its die-off. Such is the promise of the garden – no matter what has happened, there’s always a chance to grow again.

There was a long stretch of my life in which I was terrified of straight men. They were the ones who called me a fag, the ones who threatened with violence and brute force because they couldn’t argue with wit or intelligence. It took a long time to understand that they were the ones who felt threatened and small, that their actions were the stuff of insecurity and weakness. Once I realized that, they were no longer to be feared. Of course, realizing this on an intellectual level is much different than exercising it in daily life, so it took a while before I welcomed straight men into my world, but in 1995 I started to do just that with Suzie’s friend Chris.

We were about as different as two people could be, but somehow our friendship slowly grew over the next couple of years, jumpstarted and solidified with an infamous trip to Puerto Rico, and since then he’s been one of those friends who have become family by choice and deliberate selection. Chris taught me that straight men could be as sensitive and compassionate as anyone else, sometimes even more-so, as he wore his heart on his sleeve and was in many ways much more sensitive than me. He opened up a world of friendship that was refreshingly devoid of competition (we would never be going after the same person) and all the other stereotypically-challenging but nonetheless-true difficulties of friendships with women and gay men. It was a profound relief to be friends with a straight guy ~ it removed so many concerns and reminded me of childhood friendships that had long since dissolved in the wilderness of adolescence. My friendship with Chris opened me up to other friendships, and he was one of the first to help me broaden my narrow viewpoint and break down my barriers. I met him twenty-five years ago this month, so this weekend we are celebrating the silver anniversary of our friendship with a stay at the Plaza, a play, and a Betty Buckley concert. (See below.)

In addition to that, we are celebrating something else. About fifteen years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting my friend Sherri’s husband Skip for the first time. He’s probably appeared in more stories and posts than most because he’s the webmaster for all that you see here, and better than that he’s become a treasured friend. Like Chris, he has a certain social charisma that I’ve always lacked ~ and those are the people that I love to be around because they’ve made it their mission for people to love to be around them ~ their lives are designed to be such because they like people around them at all times. I tend to prefer a quieter and more solitary existence. That we continually get along so well is one of the magical mysteries of friendship.

Today is Skip’s birthday, and we’ll be celebrating with cocktails (and mocktails) at the Plaza, followed by dinner, and capped with the first preview of ‘Plaza Suite’ – so Happy Birthday! Rain check…

{PS – At the time this was originally written, these were the plans. Given the shutdown of Broadway, the advice not to travel, and the general insanity of the world, we are forced to make other plans, so stay tuned for the denouement of this!}

Trading out booze for sparkling water, and a fried onion blossom for a frisee salad, Suzie and I found ourselves in a slightly different place than we would have been twenty or even ten years ago as we set up at dinner at Provence. After browsing West Elm and enjoying the short walk in the light of the setting sun (on that glorious 70 degree day!) we settled into our meal and caught up on where life had taken us since we last visited New York at the end of January. Time goes by too quickly between visits these days, even if social distancing isn’t the worst thing one could do to close out this winter. (We went hugless just to be safe.) 

On a day and night that brought out a full super-moon, and the final throes of Mercury in retrograde, there was comfort and security in spending some time with Suzie. It was a nice reminder that there is still some stability in the world, that there are people on whom you could still count and consider as true.  

After dinner, we searched for a bit of dessert, ultimately settling on some chocolates from Pearl Grant Richman when the line at the ice cream place proved too ridiculously long on the first warm day of the year. A sweet ending to a sweet evening.