October 2012
The waves of Ogunquit take a dramatically wondrous turn at some time in the Fall. There is something almost ferocious about them at this point. It is more exciting, and more dangerous. The thrill is back in the ocean, and the complacency of the Summer gives way to the urgency of the Fall. The wild ride has begun. Hold on…
You know we don’t do full-frontal male nudity on this site (well, almost never), but we often come pretty damn close. And this is about as almost-full-frontal as you can get, courtesy of Nick Youngquest who clearly has no problem, nor should he, getting naked at the drop of a hat (and everything else).
Leave it to ‘Attitude’ magazine to get the boys to drop trou and cup it. As the great Bonnie Tyler once sang in her raspy voice ‘Turn around…’
It takes more than a penis and a pair of balls to be a real man.
And it takes even more than that to be a gay man.
Someday I’ll explain.
Someday I’ll put it down.
Someday I may even understand.
This morning Andy and I return to Ogunquit, Maine, for our annual Columbus Day weekend vacation – the final echo of summer hopefully still lingering in the air, or the definitive arrival of Fall and all its accompanying coolness. Either way, it’s Ogunquit, and there’s no better place to be, rain or shine.
While we’re away, I’ve programmed a traditional menu of male celebrity nudity, Madonna, and the measured mayhem of my mad existence that keeps all four of you coming back for more. (And I thank you each for that.) There’s also the special treat of a naked-on-Ogunquit-Beach photo of myself that I’ve been holding onto for all these years – so don’t blink or you’ll miss it. In the meantime, I’ll be enjoying life by the shore, with intermittent updates on FaceBook or Twitter – or even LinkedIn if you want to find me a better-paying job (which is getting easier and easier as I haven’t had a proper raise in four years). I might even update this very site should I decide to bring my laptop. A little on-location posting is always exciting. (Actually, it’s usually pretty boring, but so is much of what goes on here, so let’s do it.)
One of my favorite websites recently got a little make-over, so head on over to Boy Culture to see the new digs. That’s where you can find gems like this Zac Efron GIF that I find simply mesmerizing, and a Nightly Briefing that is simply essential.
Here we find Tom Daley and his Speedo hugging Matthew Mitcham in his Speedo, which can only result in a very happy photographic moment. Enjoy.
There’s one story that I remember whenever I wash my hands – which means it crosses my mind a number of times in a day. Well, maybe not every time, but quite a lot – especially when there is or isn’t hot water available (sometimes an issue in my work building). In seventh grade we had an art teacher, Mr. Griffith, who peppered his teachings with a couple of personal stories. I loved art class – it came toward the end of the day, and was in a large, expansive second floor room lit brightly by a bank of long windows. We had space to spread out, at big white drawing tables, and it was a relief to focus on being creative rather than studious. I also got to sit next to my new friend Ann, who would prove to be a lifesaver in years to come. On the day that I’m remembering, we were nearing the end of class. Students were packing up, and Mr. Griffith was washing his hands. I don’t think anyone else was paying much attention to his murmuring, but he started talking about a girl who liked to wash her hands. He said she would stand at the sink and just let the water run over them, taking her time and being completely thorough and fastidious about the whole process. One day he asked her why she spent so much time and care washing like that. She answered that she didn’t have hot water at home, and liked the way it felt. He paused in his story, then said it was something that always stuck with him. Since that day, it has stuck with me too. It’s something I cannot forget, and I’m better for it.
If it’s wrong to get such a thrill out of watching these two pop titans go at it like this, I don’t ever want to be right. Thank you, TMZ, for making my life worth living.
Bet you thought this was going to be Dylan or Brandon, right? Or maybe even Steve, lately of ‘Dancing with the Stars’ fame? No such luck – this is the unlikeliest heart-throb of the bunch – Brian Austin Green (well, aside from the nerdy character who accidentally gunned himself off in one of their “very special episodes”. See, once upon a time I did watch television, and quite closely.) Yes, folks, this is the man who deflowered Donna. Though I don’t think he had as many tattoos then. Ahh, memories…
My friend Jim Koury was kind enough to feature me in this month’s issue of Diversity Rules Magazine – Oct. 2012 – so be sure to check out the online version of the current issue here.
“Alan Bennett Ilagan is a gay blogger based in upstate New York and Boston, and the man behind www.ALANILAGAN.com. What started out as a simple repository of his written work has grown into a popular blog that gets updated daily (even on weekends) with photographs and blog posts and the latest in gay pop culture. From David Beckham and Ben Cohen in their underwear to an ongoing Madonna Timeline, it also includes personal essays by Ilagan, and an extensive collection of galleries for those who simply want to look. After undergoing a dramatic revamping, the site is now more user-friendly than ever, with archives and search options and a brand new lay-out. It will celebrate its tenth anniversary early next year – an eternity in the fast and fickle world of personal blogs. Over the years, readers have had the opportunity to witness the evolution of an artist, both personally and professionally, as Ilagan has shared things as intimate as his marriage to his husband Andy as well as his public work as the Manager of the Romaine Brooks Gallery at the Capital Pride Center. As engaging and entertaining as its creator, www.ALANILAGAN.com continues to provide am unabashedly gay take on life, love, beauty, and art.”
On my last trip to Boston, I passed by this church, and as pretty as it was, I was more transfixed by the two Brugmansia plants potted at its entrance. More commonly known as Angels’ trumpets, these are tropical plants that don’t survive the cold New England winters, but can be brought into a warm garage or unheated basement for the winter months, then brought back out to create the amazing show that is seen here. I once kept a couple of these, in enormous pots, that grew to be about seven feet tall. When they bloomed in summer, their fragrance filled the night – the variety I had gave off a heavy lily-like lemon scent that pervaded the entire backyard. It was especially nice for late-night swims, when the perfume seemed to cling to the water’s surface. I got lazy one year and left them outside in the winter (those pots, and the attendant tree-like trunks that they eventually develop, were not easy to move up and down stairs) so we no longer have any, but I’m tempted to try them again. It takes a year or two to develop them into the tall specimens you see in this photo, but it’s a wait that’s worth it.
Yesterday I watched the New England Patriots tear up the turf against the Buffalo Bills. At first I wasn’t all that enthralled, especially when it seemed like it was just one long series of commercials. After a while, though, and a big glass of beer on ice (at which Andy laughed hysterically – apparently drinking beer on ice is not the traditional manner to drink it) I started to get into it. Early on, the Bills were ahead, and I thought my usual curse of watching and having my team of choice lose was back in effect [See Red Sox circa 1986], but then they turned it around, Tom Brady ran a touchdown himself, and the excitement of being on the side of the winning team was suddenly contagious. I finally got be part of a football game that other people were talking about on FaceBook and Twitter, and even though I knew little to nothing of what was happening, a few rules of play crept back from my Marching Rams days, and it began to make some sense. I may succumb to Sunday Football after all. (The beer’s going to take a little more time.)
My friend Rob alerted me to the story of gay soccer player David Testo, who came out in November of last year, but hasn’t played since. In a candid and compelling interview, he tells some behind-the-scenes stories of what it’s like being gay as a professional soccer player, and, on a larger scale, what it’s like to be gay in the sports world.
One day we will reach a place where coming out won’t even be an issue. It likely won’t happen in my lifetime, and that will always make me a little sad, but it’s heartening to see us inch toward that. My admiration goes out to guys like David who take those first brave steps in a vocation where it has traditionally been – and to this day remains – something kept silent and secret.
