Category Archives: General

The original purpose of this post was to provide a nifty item to pin to the top of my Twitter, err, X account should that site’s idiot of an owner decide to start charging for new tweets, err, xeets (oh please). No way I’m paying for such nonsense, and should it come to pass I’ll just leave a link to this particular page up for posterity. Once that was decided, I realized what an onerous task I’d set up for myself in trying to encapsulate what this silly blog has come to embody over the past twenty years of its existence.

Earlier in the year I’d made some half-hearted attempts while looking back over its two-decade existence, such as in this post and this one, but nothing has ever come close to approximating everything this site has been. Truth be told, nothing ever could. It’s like trying to describe a person you’ve known for twenty years to someone who has never met them. Where do you begin? How do you capture their essence and what they mean to you? The only way to do so is to take time and slowly reveal, through action and stories and presence, what they are like. 

This isn’t something that can happen in a single sitting, or in a few carefully-chosen words. It isn’t something that can happen in a lifetime of sittings, or in countless, rambling, limitless words. And so it is, practically speaking, an impossible mission. All I could ever do would be to approach some better sense of understanding, some approximation of knowing, but never the whole thing, never the entire story, never the definitive view. Still, a challenge is a challenge, and this one merits an attempt. 

Perhaps the best way to begin describing this site to a newcomer is to go back to its basic structure – the categories which were assembled at the start to organize topics that would be visited and revisited over the years. Let’s get the salacious and gratuitously-skin-baring ones out of the way first, as that’s what most people have come to click on before reading a single word of any exquisite (or ugly) prose. These would be our click-bait and thirst-trap moments – the posts that bring all the boys to the yard (and the girls and beyond for that matter) in an effort to get some engagement and notice for more important matters. And, truth be told, beauty and sex are a happy end(ing) in and of themselves. Each of the following links will bring you to the last few posts from each Category, giving you a taste of what drives most of the traffic here:

• Gratuitous Nudity: the name says it, and then some. I still haven’t quite decided what separates ‘Gratuitous Nudity’ from the more generic ‘Male Nudity‘ which is another category altogether, but everyone seems to have fun trying to figure it out. 
• Naked Male Celebrities: another pretty self-explanatory category, as ‘Nude Male Celebrities’ were all the rage in the early 2000’s. 
• Shirtless Male Celebrities: a more benign and less NSFW category for those unprepared for uncovered derriere. 
• Bulge: clear your throats before clicking that one. Only certain gents merit this designation. 
• Underwear: the favored garment of choice in these parts, one that has merited countless moments of inspection and introspection. 
• Speedo: you got to swim in it to win in it.

Now that the gratuitous stuff is out of the way, onto the real deep shit of the website: the frivolous and the fabulous! Even way back in 2003, the internet was filled with doom and gloom, and since then it has only gotten worse – way worse. This little hidden corner of the not-so-dark web was intended to be a frivolous and carefree space to entertain the meanderings of my mind, which has only grown more whimsical and lost over the years. Somehow I’ve managed to keep it that way, without succumbing to ads or monetization, because this is, quite selfishly, a place for me to find peace and creative expression no matter what anyone else thinks. And so, some of my favorite categories come up:

• Cologne: oh how I love the sense of smell. It has often been said that one of the main triggers of a memory is scent – and I adore the idea of triggering memories. This has often been proven true, as there are certain perfumes that bring me instantly back to certain moments in my life – almost always good ones. Every spring the lilac blooms will recall my childhood in a way that no photo album ever could. Come December, the first morning after our Christmas tree has gone up I am immediately returned to running down the stairs on Christmas morning with that initial whiff of evergreen. The moment rekindled from certain colognes I’ve worn are too numerous to mention, hence this category. 
• Fashion: dressing up for the world is a sign of good manners. Those are in short-supply these days, and largely erased altogether. Everyone is out and about in sweats and t-shirts, and the battle for dressing things up was lost long ago. Still, it’s fun to try. 
• Dazzler of the Day: for those who inspire and enthrall me, this category was created to showcase their talents, their attributes, their accomplishments, their beauty, or their presence. 
• Broadway: because ‘Theater‘ wouldn’t be the same without it. 
• Holiday: celebration! 
• Male Models: perhaps this should have gone in the click-bait/thrist-trap section? Oh well, it’s here as a gift for those who waded past the initial thrills – consider this a reward. (See also David Beckham, Tom Daley, and Ben Cohen.)
• Tom Ford: my favorite cologne designer, my favorite underwear designer, and my favorite fashion designer – he’s also a talented director whose first two films are absolutely devastating. He’s also a song by Jay-Z.
• Delusional Grandeur Tour: an absolute exercise in the frivolous and fabulous, along with an unhealthy dose of the delusional.
• Tiny Threads: little bits of whimsy, silly thoughts that run through the head.

Perhaps less flashy, but no less interesting from my perspective, are the categories that fall somewhere between style and substance. This is the magical space where beauty blends with something more serious, the space where I can delve a little deeper.

• Travel: this category is one often forgotten, so there are myriad posts that are about traveling that simply didn’t get labeled as such. Oh well, there’s enough here to give an idea of all the places I go. 
• Sports: not sure how this category came into existence, but sports matter, and athletes can be heroes, especially when they take their clothes off. 
• Food: because we all need to eat, right?
• Home Design: this is hilarious – I have no business having a Home Design category but every once in a while I’ll slide something in here because someone has asked.
• FireWater: burn, baby, burn. It was just a project. 

Every once in a while, things turn somber and serious here, and as the years pass these entries seem to come more frequently. I’m not thrilled about it, but such is life.

• Homophobia: it still exists, and its proponents are getting louder and more emboldened. 
• Antiracism: racism still exists too, and it’s also getting louder. 
• Straight Ally: when things get serious, they can also get good.
• Mocktails: one of the major story arcs of this site was how I went from ‘Cocktails‘ to mocktails.
• Brandeis: my alma mater. 
• Marriage Equality & Gay Marriage: call it what you want.
• Writing: and more writing.

The meat of the matter, and the real purpose for all that I’ve own here for the last twenty years, is to be found in the following categories, which form the bedrock of this website. This is what really matters to me, and it’s the heart behind all the hubris.

• Andy: always. 
• Family: because I came from love. 
• Boston: home away from home. 
• Ogunquit: beautiful place by the sea.
• Gay: I am because we are.
• Madonna: they said we wouldn’t last.
• Art: for inspiration. 
• Flowers & Gardening: two of my favorite things. 

Putting a definitive cap on a life – even the life of a blog, no matter how short or long it’s been – is an impossible task. Still, it’s worth a try, and this little corner of the internet is where I’ll keep making the effort. You are always welcome to be my guest.

The Harvest Moon, also known as the Corn Moon, rose in full, super form last night, in the second of such shows this September. Drained of color, the sky allowed one brief glimpse of its glory before clouds obscured the light and hid its globular form. I wonder if the cloud cover will work to blunt the madness a full moon can often elicit. I hope it does. I’ll take a day of rain for some of that protection. 

There was a time when farmers used the light of the Harvest Moon to do what its namesake indicated – late night harvesting of vegetables, mostly corn at this time of the year. I haven’t been making my usual outside rounds, and I have no idea what state our backyard gardens are in. When last I checked there were Japanese anemone in bloom, and a coreopsis that I always forget about at this tail-end of the gardening season. 

I also haven’t been to the garden centers or nurseries of late, so I don’t know what sort of bulbs are on offer, nor am I inclined or ambitious enough to purchase any and set up that kind of digging work for myself. It might make a good present and activity for Mom though, so perhaps I’ll pick some up this weekend. She has new space for bulbs, and I’d love the coming spring to be filled with flowers and a chance to start over again at her new home. 

Bad news fellow full-moon dreaders: we’ve got a full supermoon rising on this Friday, September 29, and it’s already fucking things up big-time. It spurred yesterday’s attitude of no-more-fucks-to-give, which looks to continue through the end of the week, and quite frankly I’m not sure how anyone around me is going to handle it. Here’s hoping that no one decides to fuck around and find out, because the finding out this week will be like none you have ever experienced. 

A combination of grief, agitation, and uncertainty is a very bad combination indeed. In an effort to re-focus what can often be a manic energy from the full moon, I intend to fly as far under the radar as I can without crashing – a delicate and dangerous balancing act that has proved difficult to master. 

{Shout-out to my friend Trish who shared the following song in honor of this week’s theme, and my friend Steve who shared a link on where to find all the missing fucks.}

Chris Evans is enjoying a respite from Hollywood and indulging in the joys of marriage, which means he’s been off the market for a while, but that doesn’t stop many viewers from entertaining far-fetched fantasies, particularly when GQ captures him in a tank top and tats. Mr. Evans has been featured here a number of times in the past, all of which are worth a revisit, starting with this shamelessly shirtless post from over a decade ago. 

This gratuitous Chris Evans post featured further shirtlessness and his bouncing buttocks courtesy of a Captain America GIF. A few underwear shots comprised this almost-cheeky post, while one of his hottest GIFs was enshrined in this breathlessly-wondrous entry. A post from a few years ago revealed that far more than a pretty face, he was also America’s ass. Looking forward to seeing a bit more of him should he prove ready to return to the Hollywood world. 

It’s one of my favorite spots in our little home: the corner of our conversation couch that edges up to the front bay window. It’s a place in which a book can be read, or a nap taken. It serves as its namesake for talk between friends. It is an ideal location to have a cup of tea. It’s also entirely unremarkable, and maybe that’s why I like it so much. 

The pillow in that place is worn and torn, its fanciful fringe falling off the edges and in need to sewing and repair. The cushions are slightly indented, and more comfortable for it. The vantage point gives a view of the front yard, and the Norfolk Island pine. Soon the inside will be greener than the outside, and that’s the time of the year when this corner of the couch comes into its own. 

Behold the fiery cockscomb! Bearer of fall beauty, and so tantalizingly named, it heralds the arrival of autumn here on this blog. But enough cock-talk and cock-teasing, on with the first weekly recap of the new season…

It began with a rainy day and a Monday all in one. 

A mark of good things to come: the Ben Cohen calendar has arrived. 

The boy bands of my youth are back, along with a confession. 

A rose and a song of American beauty.

All these little deaths at the end of summer.

A welcome visitor at 4:44 AM.

Dreamy music hinting at fall, and damn fine cups of coffee.

This somber summer gets briefly recapped.

A fall season turns over a new leaf.

Sometimes a fall song needs a super moon to make itself known.

Clapping like thunder.

Flowery fall start.

Dazzlers of the Day included Joe Locke, Kit Connor, Selena Gomez and Jacob Elordi.

Fall is often a time for great change.

At the time this blog post goes up, it will be the first day of fall, and I will hopefully be in Boston with Skip on our almost-annual BroSox Adventure. Should all go according to plan, this will mark our first fall game, which is reminiscent of the very first Red Sox game I ever attended with my family, way back in 1986. More on that later – for now, let’s focus on this particular first day of fall – it will come with enough memories.

There are numerous musical connotations that rekindle fall in my mind, bringing me back to various times, such as ‘Alegria’ which tracks the emotionally-perilous mid-90’s and my first tentative steps living in Boston. It should have been a lonelier time than it felt – so often was I alone and on my own – but I didn’t allow myself to be lonely. 

On this blog, since the first day of fall usually kicks off with a featured fall post, we are revisiting some first-days of the past, such as this one which went up in 2014: ‘Time In A Bottle’ is an apt musical motif, as fall makes the fluctuations of time somehow more keen. 

In 2015 fall was welcomed in this fine and simple fashion. 

For a website that’s been around for twenty years, I invariably fall into repetition and repeats, so 2016 found us back in familiar territory. 

I took the summer of 2017 off from daily blogging, so the return to fall was a return to writing. Following the same summer vacation schedule for 2018, the blog was back in this ‘Oh Fall’ post. 

The summer of 2019 feels like the last summer of carefree innocence, before the pandemic hit, before we knew how dark things could get. In some ways, fall followed suit, with this post that feels ages and eons away from where I am today. The blissful brink of the abyss… we had no idea what was in store for us. Back then, it was enough to create our own manufactured drama. Feels quaint and silly and indulgent and wonderful now, and I miss it. 

Cut drastically to the fall of 2020, after the world as we knew it began to fall apart. We needed fall songs then, such as this one by Taylor Swift. 

Sometimes fall begins with a silent dance, as in this scarf-laden post. By 2021, we were all a little weary but it wasn’t anything that a new Abba song couldn’t attempt to fix. So, here’s to life, and for not dying on this day as a man dressed as death once predicted.

Following the new lease on life, we burned everything down in the fall of last year. 2022 provided a reckoning and exorcism of sorts for past emotional garbage. Fire and feathers conspired to give the season a new glow, while these flames of September served as a healing antiseptic. Burying the fire in a litany of words was the best way I knew to move forward and leave the past in the past. 

On this first day of fall, I’ve found a song that brings me back twenty years – well, the song actually found me in the way that destiny sometimes intervenes – a gift of the last Super Blue Moon, and it’s coming up in a post later today. Let’s meet back here in a bit to reconvene and listen together – in the meantime, Happy Falling. 

My father’s death definitively demarcated this summer – August 1 was the line between happy and sad, good and bad, before and after Dad. In so many ways, this summer realized one of my greatest fears in life – losing a parent. I remember when Andy’s Mom died, one of the first things he said was that what he feared the most had just happened, and in some small consoling sense it offered the slightest relief. I finally understood what he meant. This summer will always and only be about saying goodbye to my father, and as sad and sorrowful as that was, it also managed to be exquisitely beautiful and peaceful. 

When the summer first began, we had no indication of how it would turn out. There was only the fresh hope and excitement of a new season at hand. Looking back over how it all began, it feels far away, like an entirely different world, but the start of summer has always felt markedly different from the end.  

A celebratory beginning to the season was launched a few days early, when Steve Barnes wrote this amazing profile on me for the Times Union. As is my wont, I flew into a typical churning of over-thinking and over-reacting before I could simply enjoy and take pride and pleasure in it. I mention the silliness now as juxtaposition to the very real concerns and worries that would later engulf us – how I would come to miss such silliness. 

This was supposed to be our Bohemian Summer, with friends arriving and lounging by the pool, a throwback to gathering with groups and giving in to the wild abandon that only summer can produce. We made our summer wishes, scattering the ashes to the warm breeze at hand. Walking in the garden, we began in our usual ambulatory bath of floral beauty. It all felt so full of possibility. 

Summer makes music matter more, and this old-school summer playlist recalled favorites from the past – most of which I still enjoy to this day, and all rekindle more carefree moments and years. Speaking of music, no one has made it better than Madonna, and in honoring the past twenty years of this blog, here are the top twenty Madonna Timeline entries. 

All too soon June came to a close, and July arrived, with a brand new (old) scent by Tom Ford. July meant more flowers, as seen in the last of these Japanese iris blooms, and more 

In a sign of troubling times, Madonna postponed the launch of her Celebration Tour, which meant the long string of canceled events that began with COVID continued in earnest, and more stormy days were to come. Before that, however, one final note of happiness was sounded as I returned to New York City for the first time since January 2019. Fittingly, it was with Suzie, and we met up with Chris (and Tommy and Janet) for a Broadway rendezvous. Such wonderful people, such good friends, and such a happy weekend. 

The rest of the month was spent focusing on Dad and the turn he took. Posts necessarily dwindled, but for special events such as my Godson’s first birthday and our real anniversary I tried to do them justice. And when this blog went completely dark for a while, this summer recollection post gave anyone who wanted to read more that opportunity. 

When August arrived, Dad departed this physical world. It was, for the most part, a peaceful and happy finale to a long and well-lived life of 92 years, and mostly I’m grateful for the time we had these last few months and years, and the way Mom was able to care for him in a way that allowed for the best possible transition. As we find our way in world without Dad’s physical presence, I’m trying to find him in other ways, and largely it’s been a comfort. 

As if August wasn’t lovely enough, Andy and I finally – after avoiding it all these years – caught COVID and it was as enjoyable as all reports have been. To this day, I am still coughing on occasion, and it continued a month of awfulness. 

We slowly made our way through August. I focused as much as I could on my meditations and mindfulness, not always successful at warding off the sorrow, but I did it every day, and that consistence was seeing me through. My birthday was a dismal echo of what it used to be, and maybe that shift was a long time coming and I’m only now awakening to what a birthday should be as an adult. 

A song for swimming, even if I haven’t been in the pool since July. A full blue moon – the second full moon of August – fell into place in the sky, marking a month I was happy to watch depart. 

Finally, September arrived. I’ve never wanted a fall to descend as much as I wanted this one – an end to this summer was not cause for upset. Dad was still very much with me, as he visited in this dream. It marked my first time back in Boston since he passed, and it was very much a family affair, as Noah and Emi joined me to make it all relatively fun. 

Returning to upstate New York, we celebrated Dad’s first heavenly birthday. It continues the start of a long year of firsts without him, and some will hurt more than others. All will remind that he is still part of us, still present in some way. And so this summer has passed on too, like the very best and most beloved things; it had to come to an end, and a continuation. The initial segue into fall is mostly a seamless one – demarcated by an hour or two, the subtle shift seen in the slant of the sun and moon, and otherwise undetectable from one day to another. Over time, the changes will reveal themselves in a more pronounced manner. For now, we continue, and we begin the first steps to the next summer. 

See you back here tomorrow, when it’s fall.

‘American Beauty’ was a movie released in September of 1999, one that I immediately loved, even if it hasn’t aged well thanks to the creepiness of Kevin Spacey. It takes its name from the ‘American Beauty’ rose – a rich, red variety that is a classic. It’s too classic for me – and roses have never grown well under my care. At the time the movie came out I was living in Chicago with my then-boyfriend. We’d only moved there about a month before that, and I was just beginning to find my way in that expansive city.

Chicago extended beyond what my Boston-accustomed perspective could comfortably imagine, sprawling out in neighborhood upon neighborhood.  Just getting into the downtown could take an hour, and our apartment was still considered Chicago proper. When I did venture such a distance, I spent the whole day there, sometimes taking in a movie by myself when my boyfriend was at work. Such was how I discovered ‘American Beauty, and its haunting atmospheric soundtrack, which is the main point of this post. 

The moody atmospheric music of the movie shaded that fall in Chicago, when I slowly realized our relationship was falling apart, that moving there had not been the right decision. It wasn’t a realization that came quickly or easily, and my heart fought against it even as my head finally came around. I held onto this section of the soundtrack for calm and stability, knowing I had nothing else on which to grab. 

Even in my sadness, I sought out beauty in that state, thinking and hoping it would be some sort of balm upon the pain, and maybe it did blunt what I was about to feel. I couldn’t see it then, not at the end of that Chicago summer, when I’d pinned all my hopes on the heart of another young man, back when we were both too young to know how to make it work. 

It’s late on a Sunday night as I write this – the very last Sunday in this summer of 2023 – and as much as I wished for this summer to be over, I’m pausing to honor the season of the sun, no matter how mixed of a bag it was. There was much rain this time, and many shadows, and loads of loss. And while I pause for this moment, I also welcome the arrival of fall, the advance of a difficult year, the promise of a winter slumber. On with the weekly recap…

This is often a quiet week, as the blog always goes dark on 9/11.

My father’s birthday also falls on 9/11 – and this was the first year we honored it without him here. 

Little-known-fact: my love of gardening stems directly from my Dad. 

Sweet secret of September: the Sweet Autumn Clematis.

Harvesting cucamelons.

Harvest moon love.

Jim Verraros takes a well-deserved bow.

Don’t forget me when I’m gone.

Wild & scrappy.

Exploring Gucci memories made through the nose.

A gratuitous Maluma-in-underwear post.

The lone Dazzler of the Day more than held his own: Steve Grand. 

Tomorrow, as is tradition since this blog was created twenty years ago, this site will go dark in honor of everyone we lost on 9/11. That date also happens to be my Dad’s birthday, and it’s the first year he’s not here, so it feels fitting to pause in the proceedings. As we won’t be posting on Monday morning, here’s an early weekly recap. 

This purple clematis keeps blooming. 

A gratuitous Zac Efron shirtless post.

Exhaustion & matcha – a match made in heaven. 

A mystery by Tom Ford demands to be solved just in time for the holiday season.

Getting reacquainted with Corey, who was forgotten for a second year in a row. 

Dad visited me in Boston.

A Labor Day visit to Boston with the twins rekindled the same magic we experienced last year. It was a spooky thrill ride to kick-off the scary season of school and Halloween.

Dazzlers of the Day included Jim Verraros, Diana Ross, and Mehdi Hasan.

It’s been almost a month since Andy and I had our first bout of COVID, and we still have coughs and regular stretches of sheer exhaustion. If I so much as sit down briefly in our comfy green chair, and allow my head to go to the side, I will promptly fall asleep in a matter of minutes. I don’t dare to lie down on a bed unless I want to throw away the next ten hours. It has slowed everything down, but the start of this September is so hot and humid, it feels right to slow down. 

The mornings have so far remained momentarily cool, allowing for a cup of matcha to jumpstart the day, and stave off immediate exhaustion when at the office. I haven’t had matcha since early spring, when this sort of heat and humidity was a welcome dream. Time changes everything. 

Normally one to shy away from the full moon for fear of lunacy and other mishaps that too often coincide with its appearance, I felt drawn to the Super Blue Moon that visited on August 30, and managed to capture a coupe of photos before it hid behind a bank of clouds. Maybe the trick to dealing with the madness of a full moon is to embrace it – to stand outside beneath its glory and appreciate its beauty rather than hiding away from its power and might. Perhaps there is a way to harness its energy and not fear its pull. 

On that night, I kept checking on its progress until I found it peeping around the infuriating cloud cover. It was enough – and beneath its blue glow I felt a peace I hadn’t felt in a long while. A moon’s kiss is a magical gift. On with the weekly recap back on earth… 

Summer still burned, even if my mood didn’t quite match its smolder.

There was fog, and perhaps a phantom pheasant.

A possible explanation to the fury and the madness.

A cheeky full-moon post that somehow revealed more than my bare ass.

Nuance is all but lost in today’s world. 

August departing.

September arriving.

Ferny freshness.

Down with the dumpster fire that is Twitter, err, X.

Climbing and vining before the season is done.

Dazzlers of the Day included Trevor Wayne, Donna Murphy, Nick Vannello, Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish.