The MDNA Anniversary

Considered by many to be her second divorce album (‘Like A Prayer’ being the first), Madonna’s ‘MDNA’ album, released on this date in 2012, is also considered one of her weaker efforts. I don’t agree with those assessments – this is a pretty kick-ass collection of songs – I just think it suffered from a poor choice of lead-off single, and Madonna’s own movie-focused lack of a promotional push. She gave it a Super Bowl toast and then retreated into movie and tour promos. The track-list is worth a revisit, as is the album overall, which finds her raging against romance while simultaneously reaching out for it, resulting in the very best kind of creative contradiction. 

  1. Girl Gone Wild
  2. Gang Bang
  3. I’m Addicted
  4. Turn Up the Radio
  5. Give Me All Your Luvin’
  6. Some Girls
  7. Superstar
  8. I Don’t Give A…
  9. I’m A Sinner
  10. Love Spent
  11. Masterpiece
  12. Falling Free

For me the trio of highlights are the exhilarating opening track, the pure pop perfection of ‘Turn Up the Radio’, and closing ballad ‘Falling Free’ which was helmed by ‘Ray of Light’ guru William Orbit.

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Spring Pokes Its Head Out of the Ground

It was cooler than I realized, yet still spring arrived. The backyard was downtrodden with the weight of winter. The brown and dead leaves, matted down and trampled by wind, snow and squirrels, lay flat beneath my feet. The ground was still frozen in most parts.

Our Lenten rose, with us since the year we first moved in – 2002 – poked its mauve head out from a layer of tattered leaves, with veining the shade of rhubarb stems. The color of summer, strange and welcome at such an early date. I surveyed the area for places where a fountain bamboo might go. This is the year we go about replenishing the specimens we lost a while back in a magnificent if deadly wave of flowering.

In a sheltered microclimate beside the garage, a group of narcissus was already in bud. Earlier than any other year, they were a happy sight to behold, unexpectedly pleasant, as I always forget which bulbs I planted in the fall and where. For a while, I was usually too pooped and exhausted to do any sort of fall bulb planting. By that point I was already hunkering down and putting the garden to sleep, too far ahead in my winter mindset to be bothered. The past few years, however, I’ve had a late-season second-wind, and each spring I’m glad I did. I should probably mark where they are, but there’s something more enjoyable about having it be a surprise. So few things are spoiler-free these days – we must take the joy where we can find it.

Mostly the tasks to be done in this early stage of inclement weather consist of surveying and planning. When the sun warmed things a bit I managed to prune the front yard hydrangeas, and I’ve managed to remove the old soil and dead roots from the backyard pots. Baby steps for the infancy of the season, and with snow due it’s best not to get too far into anything.

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A Recap of Isolation

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.

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Weird 80’s Underwear Homage

“If we’re going to have any fun together, you guys had better learn to loosen up.” ~ Lisa

She appeared in a back-lit doorway framed by the magical workings of a fog machine. In a white crop-top, blue jockeys, and the epitome of 80’s permed hair (don’t hate her because she’s beautiful ~ that’s her hair in the morning!) she stole my heart. Not for her physical attributes, charming accent, or somewhat-awkward delivery, but for the way she held dominion and sway over all the men in her path. A creation of two teenage guys, who poured their fantasies and dreams into the precise form of woman that they so badly wanted to conjure, and thanks to some fine 80’s effects ~ Lightning! Smoke! Barbie! ~ lo and behold, Lisa was born. In the form of one Kelly LeBrock, she was a beautiful monster, as exquisite as anything that Dr. Frankenstein might have conjured. This was the world of ‘Weird Science’ ~ a John Hughes movie that came at what many consider to be the zenith of his cinematic contributions. (He would also go on to do ‘Home Alone’ and its ancillary projects.)

Following the Frankenstein metaphor, in some respects Hughes was our generation’s Percy Shelley, populating the 80’s with indelible creations that stomped on the pop culture landscape, such as ‘The Breakfast Club’, ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, and ‘Pretty in Pink.’ With ‘Weird Science’ he didn’t quite create a masterpiece, but that movie has become a cult classic. It might be one of those movies that you had to grow up with to truly appreciate, but think of ‘The Wizard of Oz’ and it’s in good company. (I’m told ‘The Goonies‘ and ‘Adventures in Babysitting‘ suffer similar fates, but I love them too much to care for their cinematic merits. For the crux of childhood and critical appeal, there’s always ‘Stand By Me.’)

“If you want to be a party animal, you have to learn to live in the jungle.”

I think we saw ‘Weird Science’ in the theater when it first came out, because we were allowed to see any movie rated PG or PG-13. Back in those pre-internet days it was much easier to snow parents when it came to things like movies. We could take a title like ‘Weird Science’ and paint it as an educational film along the lines of Mr. Wizard on Nickelodeon, only for the big screen. To be honest, I don’t recall having to even go that far.

Being a rather serious child, I wasn’t all that into the slapstick humor and gross jokes that went into the movie. Being a young gay guy, I also wasn’t all that impressed with Ms. LeBrock’s skimpy wardrobe or sexual innuendo either. I don’t even think I was moved by the men’s underwear scenes. Only in retrospect do I appreciate the wonder of youth, the beauty of LeBrock’s image, and the cheesy 80’s Jockey shorts and crop tops on full wanton display. (I maintain and offer evidence that no one looks good with a bra on their head, as you can see.)

“If you ever get the chance, shower with them. I did. Mmm, it’s a mindscrambler. Hurts so good.”

Revisiting bits of the movie now, I see a certain sweetness and innocence that I maybe missed the first few times around. (This would often show up on television after it came out, and whatever my brother and I were doing would be put on hold as we watched the shenanigans unfold again.) Maybe I’m missing that sense of innocence because of how dark the world has grown. As horrid as our hair and fashion choices may have been, as greedy as the decade may have outwardly seemed, there was still a sense of comfort in the air. Some would argue that there were other horrors ~ and most gay men of a certain age, myself included, feel a vague echo of the AIDS crisis that was just starting to happen then in what is happening today. I’m not diminishing that, but overall it felt like a more innocent world, and perhaps even a duller one. Yet in the very ennui that so many derided, and that ran throughout the 90’s, there was a safety and comfort that would dissipate the instant the twin towers fell. Nothing has been the same since.

But that’s way too serious of a note on which to end this post. I’m in women’s underwear for God’s sake ~ on both heads. And a crop top. And I found a male Barbie fashionista doll to put my own gay spin on things. In these crazy times, some of us reach out in an attempt to make the perfect creation ~ to pour our desires and wishes into an entity that might bring about connection or meaning or, dare I say it, love. How silly that an homage to ‘Weird Science’, shot and written on a spring whim when the world fell apart around me, should inspire such philosophical pondering.

As for how nonsensical this all must look, it serves a deeper purpose for my own journey too – it’s the ultimate fuck-off to a perfectionism I’ve been shirking for the past several months. In that sense this is a bit of a triumph. Rather than doing some suggested exercises like laying down in public to explode my perfectionist tendencies, I’m putting a bra on my gray-haired head, pulling underwear out of my ass, and following a somber post with all.of.this. 

“You had to be big shots didn’t you? You had to show off. When are you gonna learn that people will like you for who you are, not for what you can give them?”

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Maybe I Like People More Than I Thought I Did

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. 

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Intoning A Prayer on an Anniversary

Much has already been written about the profound and lasting impact Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ album has had on my life and on pop culture in general. Rather than give you some long-winded diatribe about how that album changed lives and forever altered the landscape of pop music, I’m going to let the music speak for itself. Here’s the full track-listing for the ‘Like A Prayer’ album on its anniversary. Most of the songs have been chronicled on the Madonna Timeline, so click on the title to read more about them.

  1. Like A Prayer
  2. Express Yourself
  3. Love Song
  4. ‘Til Death Do Us Part
  5. Promise To Try
  6. Cherish
  7. Dear Jessie
  8. Oh Father
  9. Keep It Together
  10. Spanish Eyes
  11. Act of Contrition

Happy anniversary darling. And they said we wouldn’t last…

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Being Alive, Being Alone, & Being OK

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.

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Freshness and Breathing Room

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.

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The Ideal Home School Day

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.

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Spring Into Isolation

It came earlier than usual, and perhaps that’s best. Just as we may all be hunkering down for isolation and social distancing, the season of freedom and rebirth has arrived in the nick of time. There will be much work to be done outside in the yard and garden, and I’m anxious to get started. If the weather cooperates, the main yard clean-up will commence shortly. I’ve already procured 40 lawn bags for the undertaking ~ that’s generally the number I fill each year at this time. Some things are still on schedule and going according to loose plan.

It doesn’t really feel like spring though. We cannot deny the darkness that has seeped into our daily lives, and looking at things through rose-tinted glasses has never been my modus operandi. For now, we’ll simply look at yellow roses and hope that eases the tension and worry. I’ve always counted on beauty to act as a balm upon the anxious mind. Working in the garden helps too, and my general countenance has been a wee bit calmer since I started daily meditation. An ancient adage that people repeat in moments of crisis has been, “May you live in interesting times.” I’ve always hated that saying, and its requisite connotations. I do NOT want to live in interesting times. If I need interest, I’ll create my own. Hell, I’ll create yours. I do not like interest to be forced upon me. Yet here we are, and there’s not much we can do to change the interesting times in which we live. All we can do is meet the next minute with our chosen mindset, focusing on what we need to do to get through it. For now, I choose to look at these yellow roses, to inhale their faint perfume, to sit with myself in a little window of quiet. There is beauty and peace here. There is spring, too.

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The Glamour of Spring

“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

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

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. 

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Botanical Fireworks

We need some saturated color more than ever these days, as we exit this dull winter and do our best to deal with a world that seems to have gone completely mad. Personally, I prefer my drama to be in the form of plants like these, the excitement of a vibrant blossom or a transfixing architectural detail of a bromeliad. When seeking a happy place, I first look to nature. ‘As it was in the beginning’ is often the best space to make a home-base.

A lot of us may be going a little stir-crazy, whether from being house-bound or the typical end-of-winter doldrums. I’m more in the latter camp than the former, as I don’t mind hanging around the home, but I’m antsy to get outside and watch the world turn green again. 

This is when it helps to have a local greenhouse such as Faddegon’s nearby to bring some of the spring and summer indoors throughout the entire year. Stopping by to browse their wares has become my Saturday morning ritual during these winter months, and it’s been a lifesaver. 

I’ve noticed a reinvigorated burst in the growth of our houseplants lately too, which means that spring is indeed on the way. The brown turkey fig tree that’s been overwintering in our unheated garage is bursting with new leaves, just waiting for the days to get a bit warmer. 

Help is on the way, dahlings.

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Flying Under the Radar

“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.

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St. Paddy’s Day Ginger Hunk Treat

Gwilym Pugh gives his ginger hotness to this post about St. Patrick’s Day glory from years past, and sets himself up for his own Hunk of the Day feature in the not-too-distant future. As for this holiday of sorts, we honor the gingers who have graced these pages previously

Kevin Long was not to be outdone, baring his ginger booty in this red-hot post

One of the most popular gingers in these parts has been Seth Fornea, for reasons on display here and here.

This group of gingers gave their all and then some for the day of shamrock celebration.

Ricky Schroeder is the Broadway ginger who keeps on giving. 

And last year’s St. Patrick’s Day post highlighted all this red hotness and is very much worth a revisit. 

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