Monthly Archives:

February 2014

15
February
2014
Tags: Madonna, Music
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The Madonna Timeline: Song #105 – ‘Dress You Up’ ~ 1985

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

The year was 1985. In the wood-paneled family room of my childhood home, the remains of a Saturday morning of cartoons had faded away, and the early afternoon chill of the second half of the weekend had begun. Our parents were off somewhere else, leaving my brother and I deliciously alone for a couple of hours. On the television, Madonna’s ‘Virgin Tour’ began, and the opening salvo of ‘Dress You Up’ sounded.

I didn’t know her then. I also didn’t know how concerts worked, or whether she would sing more songs that I recognized. All I knew was that one hit after another came over the TV, and I alternately sat and danced along with this woman who would change my life from that moment forward.

You’ve got style,
That’s what all the girls say
Satin sheets, and luxuries so fine
All your suits are custom-made in London,
Well I’ve got something that you’ll really like

If ‘Material Girl’ made me a Madonna fan, ‘Dress You Up‘ solidified that status. It was catchy, had a driving beat, and on the surface it was all about fashion. It spoke to me in ways overt and subliminal, and it may just be my favorite cut off the ‘Like A Virgin‘ opus – no small feat considering the lead-track (MG) and the title-track (LAV). ‘Dress You Up’ touched something deeper in my gay psyche: a love of glamour, a perfectly-crafted pop song, and a dream of something better. (It also marked my most egregious lyrical misunderstanding of all time – instead of “All your suits are custom made in London” I thought it was “All your suits are custom made and laundered.” Such was the thought process of a ten-year-old gay boy. Either way worked.)

Gonna dress you up in my love
All over, all over
Gonna dress you up in my love,
All over your body.

In my brother’s boyhood bedroom, I played this song over and over on his stereo, rewinding it and jumping on the bed to the Nile Rodgers beat. In the same space where we re-created ‘You Can’t Do That on Television’ (recording our own ‘˜You Can’t Do That on Tape’ audio cassettes and staging earthquakes with falling debris in the place of green slime – hey, I may have loved Madonna but I was still just a boy), I listened to her sing about the stuff of fantasy and fascination. The underlying metaphors might have been lost on my virgin ears, but there were more powerful forces at work.

Feel the silky touch of my caresses
They will keep you looking so brand new
Let me cover you with velvet kisses
I’ll create a look that’s made for you
Gonna dress you up in my love
All over, all over
Gonna dress you up in my love,
All over your body. 

Far more than come-hither sexiness, Madonna showed me the art of seduction – not so much as a means of gaining access to the bedroom, but as a pathway to acceptance and love. With her strut, her cockiness, and her devil-may-care sense of fashion, she taught me confidence – and even if that confidence wasn’t real, even if it was just a front ‘ there was power in that. When Madonna looked out at the world as her own, she made it all right for me to look too, and if I could get there by dressing myself up, so much the better. Because that was something I could do.

From your head down to your toes…
Song #105 – ‘Dress You Up’ ~ 1985
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14
February
2014
Tags: General
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A Last Thought On This Day Of Love

At first I thought love was about sexy shower scenes and fetching newspapers.

Then I thought love was about camping out in a tent.

For a long time I thought love was about finding a compatible companion.

Now I don’t think I knew anything about love.

The only thing I’ve learned in 38 years – and the closest I may have come to love – is in genuinely wishing happiness for another person. That, to me, at this very moment, seems to be the best definition of loving someone else: wanting their happiness more than anything else, even if it means letting them go.

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14
February
2014
Tags: General
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A V-Day Poem

In the past, I used to send out Valentine photo cards (cheeky, skin-baring ones, of course), enclosed with a Dorothy Parker poem that extolled the bitterness of love, and the cynicism that Ms. Parker so masterfully rendered in a few turns of phrase. This year, having already bared my bum, and feeling slightly kinder, I’m posting a different kind of poem. One written in earnest, one written in hope, one written in love.

Of Love

By Mary Oliver

 

I have been in love more times than one,

thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting

whether active or not. Sometimes

it was all but ephemeral, maybe only

an afternoon, but not less real for that.

They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,

or anyway people beautiful to me, of which

there are so many. You, and you, and you,

whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe

missed. Love, love, love, it was the

core of my life, from which, of course, comes

the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned

that some of them were men and some were women

and some – now carry my revelation with you –

were trees. Or places. Or music flying above

the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun

which was the first, and the best, the most

loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into

my eyes, every morning. So I imagine

such love of the world – its fervency, its shining, its

innocence and hunger to give of itself – I imagine

this is how it began.

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14
February
2014
Tags: Andy
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Happy Valentine’s Day

First, foremost, and always… To my husband.

Thirteen years is a long time together, and they were years rich with laughter and tears, smiles and frowns, and a commitment to work through whatever came our way.

It wasn’t always a cake-walk, and I wasn’t always the best husband, but it’s never too late to improve, to be better, to care and be a little more supportive.

That’s the lesson I’ll try to take from this Valentine’s Day. Not so much the gushing romantic overture, but the lasting resonant chords that sound through the rest of our life together.

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13
February
2014
Tags: Cologne, Tom Ford
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From Across the Pond

My contacts in the frag world have been whispering that Tom Ford’s Private Blend ‘London’ (until now only available in the London store) is making its way across the world, and will be available here long before I ever get my ass back to England. That’s good news, in a way (I was hoping to get it while actually in London, but if I end up not liking it I’d rather be disappointed on these shores.) Instead, if it turns out to be a keeper, I’ll wear it if and when I make it back to its glorious namesake city.

Mr. Ford’s Private Blends can be exquisite, but at such an exorbitant price point they are not to be taken lightly, and if you don’t absolutely love one, it’s not worth it. I have high hopes for ‘London’ but they come with reasonable reservations. Too often what sounds good on paper reads very differently to the nose, and even if one loves every single ingredient in a certain fragrance, the way it’s put together can turn it into something that is far less than the sum of its parts.

I tend to enjoy the darker, more complex Private Blends, however, so ‘London’ has that in favor. It sounds slightly smoky, with a dash of the oud that he’s been obsessing about lately, and both of those aspects appeal to me. It may be the perfect tail-end fragrance to winter, or something to be savored over a ripe fall. We shall see… or smell, as the case may be.

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13
February
2014
Tags: Food
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A Vietnamese Dinner, Half Home-Made

The half-home-made part right up front: these spring rolls, purchased at Fresh Market because I was in no mood to finely chop vegetables for ten hours. I’d have made a mess of the rolling too. One day I’ll tackle that assembly line. For now, it was enough to make the chicken dish that follows.

Both Andy and I are fans of curry. One of our favorite moments is when the kitchen is filled with the pungent aroma of a curry dish bubbling away on the stove, wafting through the hallway and teasing the nose. It lifts the darkest mood, warms the coldest evening, and makes the house feel like a home. It was one of the first dishes I introduced to him a few months after we met, and he took my Chicken Curry in a Hurry recipe (a misnomer if ever there was one) and transformed it into something wondrous.

This is a Vietnamese version of chicken curry (Ca Ri Ga), which is slightly lighter than its Thai counterpart, and sets itself apart with the use of sweet potatoes and Kaffir lime leaves. Lacking Vietnamese curry, I had to settle for a Madras curry.

Vietnamese Chicken Curry (Ca Ri Ga)

Makes 6 servings 

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 large yellow onion, chopped (1 1/2 cups)

6 kaffir lime leaves, crumpled in hand, but intact

2 tablespoons Vietnamese or Madras curry powder

Salt

3 or 4 pounds chicken, cut into 8 serving pieces, or 3 pounds of bone-in chicken parts

2 1/3 cups unsweetened coconut milk (about 1 1/2 cans)

1 cup water, plus more as needed

2 1/2 pounds sweet potatoes and/or russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 2-inch chunks

Heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat until the oil starts to shimmer. Add the onion and kaffir lime leaves; cook for about 2 minutes, stirring, until the onion has slightly softened. Add the curry powder and 1/4 teaspoon of salt and cook for about 15 seconds, stirring, until fragrant.

Add the chicken, skin side down; cook for 3 to 4 minutes on each side, until lightly browned (the chicken will not be cooked through).

Add the coconut milk and 1 cup of water, then the potatoes. Make sure the chicken pieces and potatoes are submerged in the liquid; add water as needed. Increase the heat to high and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and cook for at least 1 hour and preferably 2 hours. When the dish is done, the chicken will be fall-apart tender, and the gravy will be thick from the starch of the potatoes. Add 2 teaspoons of salt, or to taste.

Remove the kaffir lime leaves before serving.

Serve with freshly steamed rice or French bread.

It’s best to allow the curry to sit overnight so the chicken really absorbs the flavors from the spice-rich gravy.

I made some minor modifications: for the chicken, I used about eight chicken thighs. I’m a fan of the the darker meat when it comes to poultry – it’s juicier and more flavorful, and I find it more tender than something like a breast. I used two cans of coconut milk (slightly more than the recipe called for) and went lighter on the water. It simmered for about two hours, but the next time I’d wait an hour before adding the sweet potatoes, which turned out less-firm than desired – almost too soft to stay intact in fact.

Overall, though, it was a resounding success. Andy said it smelled just like the dish he had at Van’s a few weeks ago. I attribute it to the magic of the Kaffir lime leaves. They made all the difference.

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12
February
2014
Tags: General
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Inhabiting the Moment

On JoAnn’s visit here this past weekend, we got around to discussing the way we lead our lives, and she mentioned that she needed to learn how to take things as they came, rather than being constantly concerned about what is next. I have the same issue, living in the future as opposed to the present. Every once in a while I’ll catch myself, force myself to slow down and admire that instant, make the most of that moment, and I can do it. Whether that’s sitting down in silence to have a piece of Scottish shortbread and a cup of tea, or turning off the stereo and pausing to look out over the winter landscape in silence. Those brief calming moments of quiet are too few and far between, and I’m trying to elongate and spread them out so much that they become a way of life. It would bring a sense of peace to things.

Both JoAnn and I need to focus less on what is about to happen, on what may or may not happen, and experience what is happening. A plunge into the present moment. A realization of the here and now. A connection to this world.

We belong.

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12
February
2014
Tags: General
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Mid-Week, Mid-Winter, Mid-Life Crisis? Not Yet…

On the tenth floor of my office building, at 7:13 in the morning, I am one of the only people around. The sky’s color is swelling, its lavender overture ripening into fiery pink and warm salmon, and then the bright explosion of sun, radiating from one central point so many miles away. It lights up the Hudson River, today covered in snow, but beautifully so, throwing off the blue light of the dawn’s pure sky. I take in the moment, pausing at the window, allowing the light to wash over me. Basking in such beauty works wonders for the soul, if we let it.

Sometimes it must seem like there are a lot of cryptic messages going on in this blog, and sometimes there are, but for the most part you only hear about the drama and the highlights – not the majority of quiet days, so I just want to set a few minds at ease. I’m not having a breakdown. I’m not having a mid-life crisis (I don’t plan on dying so young). I’m not shooting up or having online sex with strangers or buying little red corvettes. I am, however, trying to live a better life. A healthier one – especially regarding eating and drinking, a bit more exercise, and a kinder countenance. Over the last few months, I’ve noticed a steady decline in the way I treat myself, as well as in the way I treat others, and I’m going to turn that around.

It’s not so much a drastic transformation as a simple realignment. I’m not that broken, just a little jarred. There is work involved, and this week quite a bit of it, as I work to examine what has changed in the last few months, and where I’m going in the next few weeks. There is value in that work though, and I know quite well the importance of the process over the actual results. Where this takes me is anyone’s guess. I realize that with any growth and evolution, certain things – sometimes even people – must be left behind. What comes of such grand plans is usually a mixed bag. I’m hopeful the bag has more good than bad, and that it comes stamped with a Tom Ford logo.

Some things are better left unchanged.

And some things aren’t.

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11
February
2014
Tags: Shirtless Male Celebrities
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Darren Criss, Shirtless and in Bed

Darren Criss certainly looks like he’d be a lot of fun in the morning. And even if he wasn’t, I’d wager you’re not going to kick him out of bed for being anything less. A rather shallow and gratuitous shirtless post of Mr. Criss, but one made worth it for the bedroom eyes and GIF motion.

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11
February
2014
Tags: Albany, Fashion
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Is This The Trashiest Thing I’ve Ever Worn?

In public, perhaps. In private, far from it. Yet for all the nudity I post here, in person and in public I’m usually rather demure, or at the very least fully-clothed. This was the most exposed I’ve ever been, but for an event like The Gay Soiree, where gender-bending and over-the-top decadence were the order of the evening, I felt the need to step-up and represent. Hence the fishnets and the lace, the corset and the guy-liner, and, of course, the butt-for-lace glimpse of my derriere.

While not the most ideal ensemble for a chilly night in February, it was fun as hell (if a little tight – that corset is over ten years old, and unlike my waist it has not expanded over time). And the stockings? They don’t stay up without garters, which, hard to believe, I did not have on hand. No matter, the motion of having to constantly pull them up all night added to the sleazy look.

Accompanied by my friend Josie (who donned a wig, and that amazing coat from my own private collection – later given to her because she looked so much better in it than me), we made a somewhat amusing scene to Andy, who’s used to such shenanigans.

By the way, while I’ve always appreciated women, and what society demands of them, I have even more empathy now. Having seen the cost of eyeliner ($10 for a pencil? I can get two hundred #2’s for that!) having felt the tight tug of a corset (there’s a bugle bead still embedded in my back, I just know it) and having wobbled around in high heels (there’s a bloody toe somewhere in one of those shoes) my hat (clipped torturously into my hair) goes off to the ladies, and anyone who has the balls to dress like a lady. That takes a lot of work, a lot of time, and a lot of money. Here’s to the ladies!

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10
February
2014
Tags: Broadway, Theater
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Schenectady Adores Kristin Chenoweth (But Who Doesn’t?)

She first caught my eye scrambling to the top of a human pyramid in ‘Steel Pier’. She then cast a spell over us as she descended in a bubble for the opening of ‘Wicked’. But last night, Kristin Chenoweth captured my heart just by being herself, in her solo show at Proctors Theatre, where she brought her music and magic to an adoring crowd.

A Broadway baby who’s made a mastery of the star-turn on television and in movies, Ms. Chenoweth is perhaps best-known and most-beloved for originating the role of Galinda in ‘Wicked,’ yet she was treading the boards for years before that. I remember her fondly in a smaller, scene-stealing role in one of her first Broadway shows: John Kander and Fred Ebb’s under-appreciated ‘Steel Pier’ from 1997. I sat in the third row for that show, and every time Ms. Chenoweth came onstage, she drew the attention and energy of the entire theater with her exquisite, heart-stopping coloratura. That such a petite pixie could produce such a powerful sound was a stunning and unexpected thrill, and I found myself standing at the end of the performance just for her.

She referenced that show before launching into one of Kander and Ebb’s better-known ballads ‘Maybe This Time’ from ‘Cabaret’ – capturing the brittle crux of desperation and hope that makes Sally Bowles such a transfixing and tremulous character. Chenoweth knows her way around the dramatic rendering of a story-song, both in poignant form (‘Coloring Book’) and lighter fare (‘Taylor the Latte Boy.’)

Her background in musicals made this a gratifyingly-Broadway-focused evening, even though she has several pop/country albums under her belt. After ‘Steel Pier’ she went on to win a Tony in ‘You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown’ and a couple of years later she returned to reclaim her Broadway crown in ‘Wicked’. The only issue I’ve had with all of her shows was that she wasn’t in every scene, which makes a solo performance such a supreme joy.

Chenoweth sprinkled self-deprecating interludes and anecdotes throughout the night (including a sweet shout-out to Schenectady’s own Ambition Cafe, where she’d gone earlier in the day) but it was her pure musical talent and artistry that reigned supreme, and the audience loved every pristine note, erupting in a couple of standing ovations.

A centerpiece of ‘Wicked’ tunes provided a contemplative gaze back over the last ten years. After performing ‘Popular’ for over a decade, she said she needed to do something to keep it interesting – in this instance that meant singing some of the verses in Japanese and German (she’s working on her Norwegian). From that touchstone song she moved into a touching audience participation moment in a duet with local eight-year-old Olivia, who held her own in ‘For Good’. Chenoweth said that Oz would always be a part of her, and proved it with a powerhouse version of ‘Over the Rainbow’ more than a little inspired by its originator Judy Garland.

Even with weaker material such as Andrew Lloyd Webber’s treacle (‘Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again’) she managed to make something transcendent, and while she impressively showed off her belting prowess at several points, it was the quieter moments that were more emotionally devastating. Her touching, delicate rendition of ‘Bring Him Home’ from ‘Les Miserables’ became a literal prayer, a song of faith, and an exhibit of finding the universal meaning in a lyric, turning it into something both intensely personal and utterly relatable. The high she gets off that sort of connection was exuberantly apparent.

The finale of the evening was her self-proclaimed anthem ‘I Was Here’ – a rousing and inspiring song in which she extols the importance of doing something that matters, and making your presence felt. In the hands of a lesser, less-genuine performer, the platitudes might have rung hollow, but in the care of such an impassioned and earnest master, it was nothing short of breathtaking. The crowd stood, demanding an encore, and Chenoweth delivered with an acoustic version of ‘I Will Always Love You’ done in original Dolly Parton fashion. It was the perfect ending to a perfect show.

Displaying genuine warmth, gratitude, grace, and a seemingly-effortless gift that soared beyond the rafters of Proctors and into the hearts of all in attendance, Chenoweth delivered a performance that cemented her status as one of the finest vocalists and song interpreters out there, as well as one of the most charismatic and enthralling stars to grace any stage.

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10
February
2014
Tags: Ben Cohen
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A Shirtless and Hairy Ben Cohen

Because some Mondays are so tough you need a little man candy.

There is none sweeter than Ben Cohen.

Especially without a shirt.

And in his wet underwear.

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10
February
2014
Tags: General
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Wintry Rehash

It seems like I’ve written about snowstorms enough for this year, and I’m really quite done with them. We’re just over the winter hump, however, and the days are slowly getting longer. Even in the midst of such snow, I detected a small sliver of spring when the sun came out this past Friday. We’re headed in the right direction – the only direction. Onward to a new week, but not before one quick glance back…

David Beckham was supposed to get uncovered and naked, and purportedly did as his Super Bowl commercial would have one believe, but I didn’t buy it.

We opened up the new kitchen to our first dinner guests – my family – and the twins made themselves right at home. It was a simple, but fun dinner, and the start of a new chapter.

What dreams… and nightmares… may come.

The Winter Olympics, hosted by a rather inhospitable (if not downright dangerous) Sochi kicked off, and in honor of that I kicked off our gayest-of-gay coverage with a scintillating, shirtless, and sometimes-naked post featuring lots of male Olympian skin. Suck on that, Putin.

There was no shortage of Hunks to heat things up, which is a good thing at any time of the year, but especially in the doldrums of winter. Many thanks to Cole Horibe, Greg Rutherford, David Mcintosh, Matteo Guarise, Mark Wright, and Darren Criss.

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09
February
2014
Tags: Albany
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A Night to Remember in Albany

Red spotlights lit the sky-high columns of The State Room, while candles glowed intimately among the cozy vermilion-accented tables. A bar in the corner served wine and cocktails, while sharply decked-out servers whirled hot appetizers ranging from Beef Wellington to bacon-wrapped scallops around the space. A virgin bar for the non-boozers among us (of which I counted myself last night) was located in another corner, offering several scintillating concoctions, including the ‘Mommie Dearest’ (served with a wielding of a wire hanger – for real!) It was The Gay Soirée, and I was sitting and watching it all unfold with my friend JoAnn who drove in from Cape Cod to be part of the spectacle.

As the guests arrived, in one fabulous outfit after another, the room filled with a collection of Albany’s finest in their most fashionable get-ups. After seeing such a wonderful and diverse group of people enjoying themselves on the dance floor, JoAnn remarked that the night gave her hope. It was such a simple statement, but so powerful, and an indication that the evening was accomplishing much more than a presentation of pretty people.

As Honorary Chair of this party, I didn’t do much other than lend my name and some FaceBook and website promotion to the event, so I want to thank all the people who did most of the work that resulted in such a fabulous party. First and foremost is everyone at the Capital Pride Center – especially Executive Director Curran Streett and Deputy Director Michael Weidrich, as well as the burgeoning staff of that great organization. As the oldest continually-operating Pride Center in the country, they have a legacy that they continue to nurture and embolden, and this event was further proof that they are at the top of their game.

Next, thanks to the amazing musical performers of the evening. Sonny and Perley opened the night with their cabaret act of romantic standards, sultry torch songs, and velvety smooth vocal performances that warmed the winter night. It was followed by the bass-pumping mastery of DJ Robb Penders, who set the dance floor on fire with an evolving mix of music that ran from classic tracks (‘Lady Marmalade’) to the most recent crowd-pleasing hits (‘Get Lucky’). He and his dancing dynamo of a husband Jason (who showed off moves I never dreamed existed) kept the evening on a high-octane shuffle.

Finally, my most important bit of thanks goes to everyone who came out and made the evening what it was. I can’t list everyone, but it’s you who made this matter. I loved seeing friends from FaceBook and real life collide and meet – and it was wonderful meeting and talking to some of my favorite people – Jeze Bel, Gloria, Peter, Ken, Lauren, Gene & Jeff, Rosy, Curran and Corbin, David, Scott, Pilar, Jim, Rick, Janet, Jim, Michael, Eric, Joe, Steven, Vinny, and Ulysses.

Let’s do it all again next year.

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09
February
2014
Tags: General
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A Poem & A Dream of Summer

The Summer Day

By Mary Oliver

 

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

The grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

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