Category Archives: General

There are those October days which are more beautiful than any in spring, when the sun shines brilliantly and the air is cool but humid enough to feign warmth. Perhaps it just rained, or maybe it rained the night before, and the leaves are matted against the ground and the smell of earth and moss is in the air. We had a few of those days this past week, and they were a joy to behold. Here’s a look back at some of them.

Cate Blanchett can do no wrong.

Tom Brady can, but even his fouls are mesmerizing.

Hump Day hydrangeas.

New York, my ass.

Usher takes it off.

I’m on the Tom Ford Train.

The lone Hunk of the Week was an unexpected choice.

Our First Lady is the epitome of grace and honor.

Let’s ease into this.

The Party of the Year.

A kiss from a rose.

Return to Ogunquit: Part One, Part Two, and Part Three.

Good Gourd.

Amid the acorns & the apples.

It’s so much friendlier with two.

The fallen in the fall.

This is acorn season.

In truth, they’ve been falling since late August.

Now, they pool beneath the leaves, collecting in wide swaths like lakes of marbles.

In the afternoon light they look rich and handsome, in shades of chestnut and cherry in defiance of their own lineage.

The mighty oak has such humble beginnings, and out of its thousands of tiny attempts at propagating itself most will not even begin to burst into life.

The two large oak trees on our property release thousands of acorns starting in late summer. Most get snatched up by squirrels and chipmunks, but there are always one or two that sprout and survive, tenaciously holding on through the winter to turn into a small little oak seedling that manages to defy the brutal odds and stretch to the sky.

Not many political speeches move me to tears, but Michelle Obama, perhaps our finest First Lady ever, made one that touched me so deeply and unexpectedly that I found myself weeping at the beauty, power, wonder and grace of it all. This is what it means to be American. This is what it means to be honorable. This is what it means to be a human that cares about humanity. This is what I hope our country truly is.

A preamble for a couple of Ogunquit posts, this is a teaser for a weekend of recapping that Beautiful Place By The Sea. Looking back wistfully, I will relive that glorious time in one of our favorite places in the world. Our fall trip is traditionally a bittersweet one, as we close out the season and hunker down for the long winter ahead. Still, there is much beauty to be had and a coziness that only comes in the fall. Come back tomorrow as we revisit the charm…

Beauty awaits.

Focus on the host portion of this hosta, and forget any similarity to hostility. Words are tricky that way. Deceitful little things. Unlike this beautiful hosta, whose enchantment is magnified in the second photo, thanks to the droplet-adorned accoutrement of falling rain. If it seems like I’m hanging fruitlessly onto a summer that long ago departed, it’s because that’s exactly what I’m doing. No shame in my Wilson Phillips game. Sing it Carnie!

The sins of Christopher Columbus are being celebrated today, but since you can’t discover what someone has already discovered, I’m going to take the day and dismiss the honor as we move forward by looking back. Our typical Monday recap begins now.

It started with this glorious bit of pornography.

An impromptu visit to New York City illustrated how much wonder there can be in a single night.

It also showed what happens when there is no sleep.

There are naughty books in this world. (Or are there?)

Disappearance.

Shake your pom-poms.

Shades both cool and hot.

Returning to our Delusions.

Circle of life.

Floral sanctuary.

Flower Bomb Balm Part 1.

Flower Bomb Balm Part 2.

Ogunquit beauty.

Though limited, there were Hunks of the Day, and they included Jason Morgan and Ed Harbourne.

Following the lime-green petals of a zinnia, we go around the circle of life.

Whorls of spinning repetition, repeated rows of endless segments – they all lead back to before.

Somehow, though, we have never been here.

The cycle of a year is a similar journey.

Here is the spring, followed by the summer.

Here is the fall, coming before the winter.

And here we arrive at the spring again.

It’s the same but somehow different, and it always feels new, no matter how many times we go around.

In the grand tradition of the post that came before…

I miss the early days of this blog, when a few photos constituted an entire post. Here’s to that!

A puff of fur.

A scattering of hairs.

A bone stripped bare, still pink from blood.

The ominous signs of a meal.

Someone is full,

And someone is missing.

Would that I were a child again so I could go back and read these classics for the very first time! Alas, one can never go back and do the same thing twice, no matter how fierce. Deeper and deeper my ass.

Having spent a spur-of-the-moment weekend in New York (more on that later), I am in no way ready for monday to come this soon. Powerless over such matters, however, we must press onward, but before delving into everything this soon in the day, let’s take the usual quick look back at the week before.

It continued in the stressful vein that’s marked this political season, as a dangerous, con artist named Donald Trump fell down in the first debate, and then went on to have a disastrous week as a year of his tax returns turned up and revealed he lost over $900 million in a single year (great business skill, just what we need as a leader).

Tom Brady went nude to save the day.

Tom Ford went leather.

Boston went soft and beautiful.

Pop-up maki at the MO.

Build me up Buttery.

A naked Pietro Boselli.

My complete (as of today) Tom Ford Private Blend collection.

Justin Timberlake gets great direction.

When calm gathers.

A peek at the tail-end.

Harvest fruit.

Hunks of the Day included Wesley Woods, Glen Powell, Kyle Krueger & Ben Baur.

And a naked Nick Jonas sex scene.

The title and presentation are both slightly misleading, as the bulk of cherries from this shoot were procured in the summer, and the citrus platter shot was from the dead of winter. Together, though, they provide a colorful reminder of culinary sweetness, so that’s why I posted them today. At some point we will live in a world where part of our recreational viewing will include scent (and for the sake of Tom Ford and my love of his Private Blends, I hope that’s sooner rather than later). Think about how would cool it would be if in addition to seeing these delectable images, you could smell the tart refreshing spray of a lime or grapefruit being sliced open, or tickle your nose with the latest cologne from Hermès. Obviously there are logistical concerns that get in the way, but if you don’t dream it first, it will never happen.

As for this fruity scene, despite its seasonal anachronisms, I find something soothing about it. A bowl of cherries, like some gently-painted still-life, stands in a dignified jumble. Containers of grapefruit, a plate of grapes, and a long silver platter lined with limes give stately assembly. Ordered yet haphazard. Perhaps it was by design, perhaps by happy accident.

Nature usually puts her best foot forward. Her beauty is not hidden, for the most part. Brightly colored feathers or warmly saturated fruits are designed to be noticed, for purposes of mating and propagation. If no one fucks the peacock, those gorgeous feathers will fly away. If no one disperses the fruit seed, the last of the trees will be the last of the trees.

The harvest is but part of the circle. It never began, and it will never end, with us.

A new month is at hand, and the final chapter of The Delusional Grandeur Tour: Last Stand of a Rock Star is about to begin. I’ve been a little lax of late as to keeping the tour posting schedule up to date, but that’s been intentional. I’m vamping. I’m stalling. I’m extending for as long as possible because once this is over, it’s over. The end date is tentatively scheduled for November – though I may just call the finish at our holiday party in December.

From the start, it’s all been in my head, and that finds its final resolution, such as it is, in the very title of this tour: Delusional Grandeur.

Back in 1995, when I embarked upon my very first jaunt – Chameleon in Motion: The Friendship Tour – it was very much the same scenario. Traveling was my means of escape, while serving simultaneously as a way of connecting to my friends who had scattered upon our matriculation at various universities. At the time, it was just me in my parents’ car, mostly shuttling between Boston and Rochester, living out of suitcases and dorm rooms, gleefully nomadic and avoiding all real-world responsibility.

We were so young then – all of two short decades – and we knew so little of the world. That didn’t matter – we thought we knew it all, and that innocent, exuberant, indefatigable attitude carried us through any happy ignorance.

That may be the most remarkable change – the shift in the way we view the world. Essentially, we remain very much the same people we were in our 20’s. Circumstances and situations may have changed, but once you hit 25 or so, most of us are pretty solid in the people we are going to become. Personally, I feel the same as I did as when I was fifteen – in the best, and mostly worst, ways that you can imagine.

Having said that, some things have changed. Almost all of my friends from that time – who fortunately remain my friends at this time – have had children and grown families, settled down and bought homes, and we now see them on vacations or when traveling through their necks of the woods. It’s been a while since I tore through their towns with feathered robes hanging from a wardrobe rack in the back, a silk scarf flailing wildly in the wind from the end of an antenna (NOT a good idea). But somewhere I still feel the same excitement and anticipation, even as we near the end of it all.

There’s a show yet to be seen…