Monthly Archives:

March 2019

Some television theme songs are infinitely better than the show they actually introduce. ‘Falcon Crest’ was always that way with me. Part of it was that it was on after our bedtime, so this was all we could usually get away with watching before being forced upstairs. But even in later years, when I could stay up to watch, the opening theme was always better than whatever followed. Even with Jane Wyman. 

On this Friday, here’s a little memory for those who share my love of opening themes. 

Only the Beekman Boys could get me to tune into the Home Shopping Network and then actually purchase something. Their products are so good, and their explanations and knowledge so convincing that the goat milk soap and lotion they were peddling were too good to pass up, especially at the special prices.

I’ve long been a Beekman 1802 fan, and even at full price their goods are more than worth it. Quality and customer care shouldn’t come cheap, and supporting a local upstate New York farm comes with its own sense of doing something better for the community. The use of natural ingredients (in this case goat’s milk) is something else to feel good about – not only for its environmental health, but also for its soothing properties and scientifically sound explanation on why it’s so much better for the skin. (They made a compelling word picture of describing how oil and petroleum simply sit on top of water while something like milk mixes with it – a powerful testament to how most soaps and lotions stay on top instead of absorbing and hydrating the skin. Listen to them tell it, it’s much more entertaining.)

I wanted to try just about everything, and much was selling out, but I disciplined myself to one blind-buy: the Fig Leaf Whipped Body Cream – better known as the Voluptuous Fig. Whether it was Brent’s seductive way of rolling off the name, the luscious description of the cream itself, or the way it thickly clung to Josh’s fingers clearly depicting its substance, I was sold. It helped that I loved all things fig too.

For the remainder of items, I’m planning on making the short pilgrimage to their brick and mortar store in Sharon Springs – just a hop, skip and jump away from Albany – in order to try out the other scents and products. It’s been a few years since we last visited and we are overdue for such beauty.

The new thing is making words up, or so I’m telling people, and I’m all about the new thing. Today that word is ‘sprice’ – which in its original long-winded form translates as ‘spring ice’ – something we had the misfortune of finding in our backyard thanks to a wayward sprinkler system. A small spray of water coated and transformed a lace-cap hydrangea during a windy and cold day this past weekend, hopefully not killing it in the process. In the sunlight and against the blue sky, it made for a beautiful, if slightly disturbing, scene.

These early days of spring are so iffy, like the season is not quite ready to arrive or reveal itself. Winter’s tail-whip can lash back worse than that demon did in ‘Lord of the Rings’ – you shall not pass and all that jazz. We won’t make it out of the winter wilderness for certain until May.

That won’t stop us from dreaming.

Ice, ice baby, indeed.

Just when you think the world has gone all brown and gray, something like this pops in at the tail-end of a lunch-time walk, and everything is exciting again. A blue spruce illuminated by the afternoon soon, framed by an expanse of blue sky. There’s a clarity at this time of the year that you can’t usually find in summer or later spring. It echoes the crisp, clear atmosphere of fall, which makes sense.

For some reason I’ve always been resistant to embracing evergreens. Something in me wanted more dramatic transformation during the year – the shedding of a wardrobe and the regrowth of a new one each season. Evergreens go through their own growth spurts, usually of a brighter green and softer texture – that tender spring time when things haven’t been hardened off yet, when a killing frost might just do that if one decided to linger.

Not so for the branch in this photo. It’s been put through the winter ringer and paid its dues. A grizzled and fortified collection of pin-prick-like arrows, protecting any pinecone carriage and fending off any wayward predators unlikely to attack from the sidewalk below or sky above. I admire such resilience and strength, particularly in the face of our winters. I also admire such simple beauty. Nature knows exactly what she’s doing.

We shall see whether the month exits like a lamb or retains its lion-like properties. Personally, I love a lion. Weather-wise, however, we are ready for something gentler. If it’s a quiet lion, soft and demure, then it is welcome. Otherwise, cue the lambily’s entrance. Or exit. Whatever. On with this recap as sponsored by Mercury in retrograde…

Follow these little threads back to their beginning.

Adam Levine celebrated his birthday in his birthday suit. 

Is this what God sounds like?

Spring on the ascent. 

Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ album turned 30 years old. 

Crotch-shot homage. 

The magic of Savannah approaches. 

Spring cleaning and daydreaming. 

The things I regret… and the things I don’t. 

You better let somebody love you before it’s too late. 

Rob Gronkowski: the naked retiree. 

Hunks of the Day included Michael Campayno, Jack Savoretti, Duncan Keith, and Brian Jordan Alvarez.

Last week we had the first day of spring, a full moon, and Mercury was still in retrograde (a sorry state that continues through the first half of this week). How we made it through that mess is something I’ll never understand (assuming we did in fact make it through – at the time of this writing we are still in it). 

The last thing the internet is needs is another crappy, poorly-shot moon photo, but too fucking bad. You’re getting two. I love when the moon hangs low, and when it wobbles to and fro. Perched in a tree, or slung over the sea, it’s a thing of beauty, even if it inspires lunacy. Among the lunatics, there is a certain thread of truth running through the loopy. I dwell in the realm of such lunacy, and the land of strange truth. The moon brings it all out.

Good luck to all of us swayed by its pull and transfixed by its spell.