November 2016
The holidays kick into full-gear this week, so I offer this happy mid-day preview of all the warm and gooey lovey-dovey holiday spirit that’s about to kick us in the ass. Get ready to get wet. (Not that kind of wet, you sick fiend. The teary-eyed kind. Use it to brine your turkey.)
This sort of selfish post is usually up long in advance, so as to give people a chance to save up some money for the exorbitant purchases I’m so shamelessly asking them to make. This year, though, I’m not feeling it as much. In fact, it wasn’t until my Mom’s prompting about what I might want for Christmas that I even gave a wish list some thought. Not that it didn’t flow easily once I remembered all the things that captured my interest this past year…
The first item is, to no one’s surprise, a bottle of cologne. Rather than a decadent but special-occasion-only fragrance that gets brought out for the holidays (Tom Ford’s ‘Santal Blush’ or Vreeland’s ‘Absolutely Vital’ come to mind) I’m asking for something more utilitarian, for everyday office wear: Bois D’Orage, by Pierre Bourdon for Frederic Malle’s lovely line, Editions de Parfums, available at Barneys.
The second, but probably more important request given my website and travel-penchant is the updated ELPH camera that I’ve had for a few years now. My little green friend is on its last legs, so I am in dire need of an upgrade, and purple is the way to go. The Canon PowerShot ELPH 360 HS (in Purple) is the current version with all the bells and whistles I need for traveling.
A pair of Tom Ford items makes it onto this year’s list, as precious as two turtle doves, and they’re actually quite reasonable when you consider the price of a bottle of one of his Private Blends. In this wish instance, there is a Hydrating Lip Balm or Anti-Fatigue Eye Treatment. [Sigh] – I’ve reached that age. And what the hell, let’s go for three: the Oud Wood Body Moisturizer.
Gift certificates are always appreciated: Brooks Brothers, Barneys, Bluefly & Sephora all work well. Or if you’re just looking for a trip to give me, make it in the name of a journey to the Southwest, where I’d love to close out The Delusional Grandeur Tour in peaceful, spa-like style. I’ve been wanting to visit Arizona for quite some time…
When all else fails, and you long for some stocking stuffers or more economical treats, there’s always my Amazon Wish List. Everyone knows I love a registry.
Finally, after several years, I continue to be taken by the elusive  Jeremy Scott Adidas Wings 3.0 “Goldâ€, Size 10. This is only available on eBay search, and even that will prove tricky, but t’s a dream until it becomes reality. (These are not to be mistaken for similar wing-tips that Mr. Scott has produced – these are the ADIDAS JEREMY SCOTT WINGS 3.0 GOLD SNEAKERS.)
After taking last year off from the beefcake calendar biz, Ben Cohen is returning with a fine, fit vengeance as he announces the release of his 2017 calendar. It couldn’t have come at a better time, and though Mr. Cohen has been rather quiet of late (after his dancing excursions and extracurricular nude video distractions) he’s looking to end the year (and start the next one) with a bang. It looks as if he’s been manscaping a bit more than usual, which may cause concern for some fans (who have already decried his smoother look) but I’m cool as long as he keeps up his admirable anti-bullying work. (Check out the StandUp Foundation.)
This is no more than a shameless (and shameful) plug for my Instagram account. Once again, I was a latecomer to the Instagram scene, hemming and hawing about yet another social media time-sucker, but for the amount of photos I have, and the easy posting opportunities, I gave in and it is no one of the more enjoyable accounts. (There seems to be less room for political bullshit and other discussion, which has been bogging down everything in the last month.)
If you are so inclined, and would like to see some of the photos that finicky FaceBook has deemed pornographic, check it out and #follow.
How on earthly hell did we come to be at the start of Thanksgiving week already? ‘Hung Up’ my ass, time does not go by so slowly, and this is not a ‘Love Song’. But if you gave me ‘Diamonds & Pearls’ I might be a happy boy or a girl… You know if I’m quoting Madonna and Prince songs this early in the week, it’s going to be a long one. On with our Monday morning recap before we dive into the candied yam prep work…
Franco Noriega kicked off the week in stunning Hunk fashion.
The world seemingly went very dark, but I wasn’t in the least bit surprised.
John Raspado kept things hot.
Come and meet the letter people.
Interesting art.
Ricky Martin got engaged.
Luke Adams was finally named a Hunk of the Day.
Another weekend in Boston.
Matt Cook in his turn as Hunk of the Day.
The end of green… for a while.
Miscellaneous (and shirtless) male celebrities.
In our own backyard.
The end of delusional grandeur… nowhere in sight.
Even the best-laid plans by the most anal of Virgos can fall by the wayside. In this instance, it’s The Delusional Grandeur Tour. In all likelihood you’ve forgotten, or never even knew in the first place, that this final tour was scheduled to end last month. Instead, I’ve been holding off on the last posting installments of the Tour Book, because I’ve decided to extend the delusion thanks to a comeback, nay, a return, of one of the most delusional divas of them all. That means The Delusional Grandeur Tour is going to run until May 2017!
In such perilous times, we need our delusions more than ever, and this dream is going to go on until Norma Desmond sings again. That’s right, everything’s as if we never goodbye…
While I work on the posts for the final chapter of the Tour Book, here’s a look back at all that has come before – a nifty compilation of the long, winding journey you’ve been generous enough to take with me. If you’re still on this crazy train, I invite you to re-board. Your ticket’s going to get punched like never before!
THE DELUSIONAL GRANDEUR TOUR: LAST STAND OF A ROCK STAR
01) Intro/Curtain – Part One, Part Two, Part Three
02) Sunset Pool – Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
03) On The Road Hotel – Part One, Part Two, Part Three
04) Rock Star Addict – Part One, Part Two, Part Three
05) Animal Demons – Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
06) Steam Punk Birdcage – Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
07) Red Riding Wood - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
08) Winter Top Hat - Part One, Part Two
09) Warrior Retribution - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight
10) Cologne Glamour Fashion - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
11) Samsara Healing Water - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
12) Spring Thaw Salvation - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
13) Flower Bomb Balm – Part 1, Part 2
“For if there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.” ~ Albert Camus
“Those who travel to mountain-tops are half in love with themselves, and half in love with oblivion.†― Robert Macfarlane
Most of the time, we don’t have an autumn show in our backyard. One or two Japanese maples might work their magic, and a weeping larch, on a good year, burns a bright golden yellow before dropping its leaves, but the rest rarely makes anything worth relating or capturing in a photo. That wasn’t the case this year, when a patch of fountain grass and an ancient oak caught the vanishing sun one afternoon, passed it to scarlet Japanese maple, and played tag with prettiness.
A soft blue sky in the background helped set everything off to striking effect, and I realized I’m not quite ready to let go of those leaves. Not that any of us has a choice in such matters, but the heart still wants.
Somewhere smoke was rising from a fire – maybe of wood, maybe of leaves – and the tell-tale incense-like scent was carrying on the wind. A quintessential autumn odor, it signified coziness. Crackling embers echoed in my sound memory, and I could almost trick myself into feeling the heat as I approached the imaginary fire in my head.
Getting caught in the woods as dusk falls is a frightening thing, even if the woods aren’t that expansive, even if they’re right at the edge of your backyard. Dark comes quickly in a forest, quicker than it does probably anywhere else. The shade inherent in such spaces hastens its descent. There’s danger in that, and fall is filled with such dangers.
I remember one late November afternoon when I was a kid. On the edge of the wooded patch behind our house, I spied the glow of the windows, a warm golden glimpse into where dinner would soon be served, but I wasn’t yet ready to come in from the dark. I had been on a mission, and my collected treasure sat in a haphazard pile on the bare ground. A mound of evergreen boughs – mostly Eastern white pine – sat awaiting an artistic endeavor that would turn them into holiday wreaths. My hands were chilled and having trouble manipulating the rigid branches, but I would wire and forced them into semi-circular forms. The scent of pine resin was a lovely complement to the smoke in the air, and the sight of our house in the distance lent a quaint cottage-like slant to the scene. It was a happy pre-holiday moment – all anticipation, all hope and possibility. My favorite time.
Eventually the light in the sky dimmed beyond the point where I could continue working. Reluctantly, I gather what wreaths I’d made, put the wire and shears in my pockets, and trudged back to the garage. The rest would have to wait for another afternoon.
We interrupt our usual nightly parade of Hunk of the Day posts to bring you a group feature of men that have graced these pages before but are worthy of another look. We begin with a pair of brothers who have each made their hunky marks here: Nick and Joe Jonas. If you’re into brothers… well, that’s kind of gross. Nick is by far the favored son in these parts, thanks to titillating shots like these and nude sex scenes like those.
Nick has charmed the pants off everyone but himself in previous posts, and he’s looking to do so again, as soon as his next project needs some provocative promotion,
Of course, nothing beats Nick Jonas in naked motion.
Joe Jonas has been bulking up of late too, giving his younger sibling a run for his almost-naked money, getting ready to hopefully bare his own cake by the ocean. His turn as Hunk of the Day was followed by other shirtless posts like this to keep his fans salivating.
Football season is upon us, and no one hypes it up more than Julian Edelman of my beloved New England Patriots. He’s a much better man than Tom Brady for many reasons, starting with that chest hair.
Joe Santagato is a hilarious take-no-prisoners kind of social media warrior, and a welcome sight for sore and non-sore eyes.
Finally, and fittingly, bringing up the rear of this post is the bodacious bum of Luke Casey who was featured here not once but twice.
The tropical elephant’s ears that made a spectacular, if slow-starting, show this summer could not handle the colder nights we’ve been having. Their beautiful canopies of waxy green foliage were no match for a freezing spell that decimated their cellular structure, reducing their expansive surface to wrinkled hoods of drooping despair.
There is a haunting beauty in these remnants, however, and a grace to anything so stricken at the height of its life. In the span of a single chilling night, it’s as if they decided they weren’t going to put on a show anymore, choosing instead to hide beneath their mottled hoods, turning themselves inside out to reveal their veiny support system, now lifeless and limp.
There’s an integrity to anything that gives up the ghost before the real chill of winter sets in.
A true classic never goes out of style, and Tom Ford’s first mainstream cologne (named, simply, ‘Tom Ford for Men’) remains one of the few fragrances I’ve ever brought more than once. I returned to it again recently, after running low on ‘Tom Ford Extreme’ – and even though I do prefer the latter for its richer and deeper resonance, the original is perfect for everyday office wear, or a casual Sunday brunch in the fall.
As sacrilegious as it may be to say, there’s something in it that reminds me of my Dad’s ‘Old Spice’. In its porcelain white bottle and old-school stopper, Old Spice was the first cologne I ever smelled. It barely influenced me one way or another as far as colognes went, so harmless and generally inoffensive was its tried and true formula. My mother’s perfumes were more interesting to my budding olfactory senses.
Ford employs a similarly spicy theme, then elevates it as one would expect from such a master of style. It’s got a slightly brighter opening, with elements of citrus that lead the charge, then settles into a spicy but light musk. Elements of Black Orchid emerge and carry it through the day, yet it’s not quite as loud as that infamous stomper. Never overbearing, but never completely silent, it makes its presence known without having to shout. Many of us, myself included, could learn from such quiet command.
While his exquisite Private Blend Collection is something I save for special days, sometimes you just want a simple, low-key fragrance for those in-between moments that comprise the bulk of daily life. Tom Ford consistently proves that the daily doesn’t need to be the mundane.
Kira and I will be celebrating our very belated birthdays this weekend in Boston, a somewhat impromptu get-together just as the holiday shopping season gets underway. We will hopefully be solidifying plans for our annual Holiday Stroll, but as I was contemplating things to do this weekend, I realized that some of our most-fun moments have been the unplanned events that simply unfolded as they casually came into being. Though my Virgo nature will always appreciate a plan, especially if there’s an itinerary involved, sometimes it’s best to fly by the seat of your pants.
Our very first Holiday Stroll was a spur-of-the-moment event, and only half-way through that holiday walk did we christen it a Holiday Stroll, setting a precedent for all the ensuing years. I love that it’s become a tradition, but after last year’s itinerary became a blueprint for almost everything that we didn’t do, I realized that too much structure isn’t always a good thing. Of course, changing one’s nature is not such an easy thing.
I was thinking this weekend might be the start of an annual pre-Thanksgiving jaunt, such is the strength of my ties to organization, but I’d rather not bind us to anything just yet. For now, the city is a sprawling land of possibility. That’s how we’re going to keep it.
It started off with me in a black t-shirt and black silk pants, so I knew it was a dream. I stood in the center of a small black stage that was worn and scuffed with the marks of performers and the desperate scratches of dying dreams. A group of women hollered from the back of the room, while a small assembly of watchers sat greedily eyeing me up and down.
I was there for one thing: to take my clothes off and put on some sort of show. I did what I sometimes do in situations that make me very uncomfortable: I went into show-girl mode and pretended I knew exactly what I was doing. Prowling around the stage, I strutted and posed, lifting my shirt a little and giving a smile/snarl to those who nodded and yelled. In our society, we’ve all seen how to act like a stripper. (Even those of us who have only seen very select bits of ‘Magic Mike’ and the like.)
There was only so much vamping and stalling I could muster, however, and eventually it came time to give them what they wanted, the only reason I was there. I turned my back to the audience and lifted my shirt. Awkwardly, I had to try a few times. Turns out that shit does take some practice to do it without looking like some clumsy virgin. No one seemed to mind, though I was anything but emboldened by the audience’s approval.
I swung my inside-out shirt around like some white flag, but it was black, and the people took it as a call for more cheers. The spotlights were blinding, but I could make out a few faces in the crowd. The group of screaming women had positioned themselves closer to the stage, and I knew it was time. Black silk caressed my body, and I didn’t want to take it off but there are times we do what we least want to do. Turning my back to the crowd one more time, I bent over and pulled my pants down, exposing my naked ass to everyone.
As I stepped awkwardly out of my pants, I turned around and faced all those people. Full-frontal screaming ensued but I looked each of those women in the face with a doleful stare, and one-by-one they stopped smiling and cheering. There was such sadness to my expression that my nudity was no longer sexy or fun, and suddenly it felt like we were all about to cry.
In the silence, I picked up my clothes and walked deliberately off the stage, closing the door of the nearby bathroom behind me and pulling my clothes on as quickly as possible.
Then the dream ended.
I awoke in pajamas and blankets, with my husband quietly snoring beside me.
Maybe some dreams are better left dead.
 Now more than ever some of us are seeking escape and laughter from the dismal state of affairs the world has devolved into of late. Thanks to the current production of “Parallel Lives – The Kathy and Mo Show†at the Albany Barn, that release, along with buckets of laughter, is available for two nights only, starting tomorrow, November 18, 2016.
Actresses Emer Geraghty and Carissa LoPresti-Weiss bring an entire cast of characters to life in this comedic work written by a pair of the funniest ladies around: Kathy Najimy and Mo Gaffney. Under the deft direction of local luminary Aaron Holbritter, this promises to be a fantastically funny night at a time when most of us need a good laugh.
“Parallel Lives: The Kathy and Mo Show”
November 18 & 19 – 7:30 PM at the Albany Barn
56 Second Street – Albany, NY
Like lightning burning its fleeting design onto a swirling globe, so has this wooden sphere been scorched with enough heat to leave such artistic marks. A map of carbon, tributaries of burnt wood, fire and water joined in symbolic union – it’s all here. The greatest and simplest works of art draw disparate forces together, marrying aspects seemingly at odds with one another, and the resulting union can be one of tension or resolution.
Here, I find it’s one of peace and completion, all conflict resolved in a sphere of beauty. In this splendor, we can choose to peacefully coexist.
The scars may be indelibly burnt onto our little worlds, but they mark our journey and map out what we’ve learned. They show us where we’ve been and give clues as to where we might go.
