June 2022
Helming the fabulous film ‘To Decadence With Love, Thanks for Everything!’ Stuart Sox earns his first Dazzler of the Day crowning thanks to his directorial efforts documenting a trip to Southern Decadence. Check out the trailer for this cinematic extravaganza below.
I absolutely love a sweet treat after lunch or dinner, and that damn Trader Joe’s has plenty of options on that front. (Too many, quite frankly, and it takes a bit of discipline to avoid getting hooked on some delicious thing that’s only found there.) Case in point is the Ube Tea Cookie as seen here. These bite-size beauties incorporate the purple ube tuber (shout-out to the Philippines!) and some sugar and shortbread for a powdered puff of delicious sweetness.
These are little enough to have a few at a time and not be a total glutton (assuming you can keep it to a few) and they are perfect for an afternoon snack with some tea.
And while they are sweet, they are not too sweet, even with that glorious coating of powdered sugar. The older I get, the more I like my sweet-treats on the not-too-sweet side, which makes these little cookies practically perfect.
Concluding this little homage to ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’, a cloud of feathers lends fantasy and freedom to the caged bird motif. A choker of pearls closes tightly around the throat – another cage, another coat of prettiness. Floating on a cloud of sheer ruffles, inhabiting a character like Blanche DuBois is now merely an exercise of play and passing an hour. Such glamorous trappings, such rotten interiors – who could sustain such a real life?
“I’ve been on to you from the start! Not once did you pull any wool over this boy’s eyes! You come in here and sprinkle the place with powder and spray perfume and cover the light bulb with a paper lantern, and lo and behold the place has turned into Egypt and you are the Queen of the Nile! Sitting on your throne and swilling down my liquor!” ~ Tennessee Williams
“What I mean is – he thinks I’m sort of – prim and proper, you know! I want to deceive him enough to make him – want me.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“It’s dark in here… I don’t think I ever seen you in the light… What it means is I’ve never had a real good look at you.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“Yes, I had many intimacies with strangers… So I came here. There was nowhere else I could go. I was played out… and I met you. You said you needed somebody. Well, I needed somebody, too. I thanked God for you, because you seemed to be gentle – a cleft in the rock of the world that I could hide in!” ~ Tennessee Williams
Turner Movie Classics was playing ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ the other night, and I was once again drawn into the magnificent madness of Tennessee Williams, and the delicate treatise on the cruelty and kindness of humanity. The brute aesthetic of Marlon Brando’s Stanley Kowalski was echoed in this blog post, because it’s fun to get dirty for a photo shoot, while the rough and tumble shower scene was re-interpreted in this slightly-racy sequence. Trying on the guise of brutal physicality, of dense and impenetrable hardness, was a fun step out of my comfort zone, and I always intended to do an interpretation of Vivien Leigh’s Blanche DuBois, which is where most people assume my natural inclinations lie. But that seemed too easy, too simple, to don a wig and some macabre eye-make-up, and the truth is I simply don’t make a very pretty woman, of any age to be painfully honest. That doesn’t mean I can’t embrace my own middle-aged manhood and cloak it in feathers and ruffles and sheet gossamer wonder. In fact, that sort of hybridization is what has fueled this blog for almost two decades.
Rather than a recreation, as I’m far too old to even approximate Blanche DuBois (who was actually only around 30, and already being urged out to pasture) I’m simply luxuriating in her silk and satin trappings – all feathers and lace and pearls. As a gay man, I empathize with Blanche’s race against time, when being attractive is currency and a means of survival. When that begins to fade, a certain panic sets in if you haven’t devised a life apart from appearance, or if your appearance has been your only way to succeed. And though I do not know that level of attractiveness, I know the chilling effects of age. We will all know that, sooner or later.
“I never was hard or self-sufficient enough. When people are soft – soft people have got to shimmer and glow – they’ve got to put on soft colors, the colors of butterfly wings, and put a… paper lantern over the light… It isn’t enough to be soft. You’ve got to be soft and attractive. And I… I’m fading now! I don’t know how much longer I can turn the trick.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“Yes, I have had many meetings with strangers.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“I don’t go in for that stuff… compliments to women about their looks. I never met a dame yet didn’t know she was good looking or not without being told. And I’ve met some of them who give themselves credit for more than they’ve got.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“We’ve made enchantment!” ~ Tennessee Williams
If her impressive body of Broadway work wasn’t enough to merit this honor, her turn on last night’s Tony Awards certainly cements the deal. This is Joaquina Kalukango, who also won a Tony Award last night for her soul-seering work in ‘Paradise Road’. Today she earns this Dazzler of the Day, and is no doubt on her way to more compelling accolades.
Having worked in Human Resources for the better part of 17 years, I’ve learned a few tips and tricks for how to get noticed and hired, and more importantly a couple of big warning flags on how not to get hired. One of the main things that most employers DO NOT look for is a criminal record based on a potential candidate’s crossing state borders with riot gear and masks with the alleged intent to intimidate, harass, and terrorize innocent attendees at a Pride event. The other thing I’ve read about is that some employers do research on their potential employees to see if they were, say, involved in some white supremacy bullshit, because that’s rarely a good look for any company. Hate just doesn’t sell like it used to. Finally, one last word – the internet is pretty much forever, and once someone’s name is out there, even in the smallest most insignificant blog, it can be connected to a heinous act of hatred far into the future.
With that said, here are the names of the 31 individuals, some of whom are purportedly part of a white supremacist group called the Patriot Front, who packed themselves into a U-haul to attend and allegedly wreak havoc on a Pride event in Idaho. They came from all over the country, and now their names will be forever tied to hatred and the specter of possible violence. Hire accordingly, America.
And for further info, here are a few links to the background. One doesn’t plan something like this without wanting a bit of notice, so let’s shine a light on who they are.
Jared Michael Boyce, Nathan David Brenner, Colton Michael Brown, Josiah Daniel Buster, Mishael Joshua Buster, Devin Wayne Center, Dylan Carter Corio, Winston North Durham, Joseph Garret Garland, Branden Mitchel Haney, Richard Jacob Jessop, James Michael Johnson, James Julius Johnson, Connor Patrick Moran, Kieran Padraig Morris, Lawrence Alexander Norman, Justin Michael Oleary, Cameron Kathan Pruitt, Forrest Clark Rankin, Thomas Ryan Rousseau, Conor James Ryan, Spencer Thomas Simpson, Derek Joseph Smith, Alexander Nicholai Sisenstein, Dakota Ray Tabler, Steven Derrick Tucker, Wesley Evan Van Horn, Mitchell Frederick Wagner, Nathaniel Taylor Whitfield, Robert Benjamin Whitted, Graham Jones Whitsom
My childhood hero Lee Bailey once described June as the month in which the roses were practically tumbling off the trellises. Bailey’s book ‘Country Flowers’ turned me into a gardener at the ripe old age of twelve, and it’s been a comforting passion of mine ever since. In much of that time, however, roses were not something I grew very often. Andy had a rose garden when I met him, back when he had a yard of good air circulation, and summers seemed less hot and humid. We’ve tried a few roses in our current backyard – a Peace rose that came back but never quite produced what it had promised, a couple of Knockouts that did produce, but inexplicably refused to come back after one difficult winter, and a Rosa rugosa which is doing a little too well and must not be reined in. In gardening there is often no happy medium, but still we try… and a rose is worth the effort.
While the workplace has been kicking my ass, and the world around us ignites further divisive explosions, summer is creeping up on me. I need to slow things down and refocus on what’s truly important. That means pausing to appreciate the Chinese dogwood trees in full bloom now, as the peonies finish their spectacular show, and the hydrangeas just begin their longer run of pastel pink to see us into the official summer season. We are almost there, and it’s time to take it easy.
A scent for the crux of spring and summer is anything but imaginary.
A simple guide on how to speak my language.
It’s such a fine line between a scrotal sac and Kim Kardashian’s butthole.
Our long-awaited return to Ogunquit began in beautiful form.
A walk along the Marginal Way worked to restore the soul.
A good-night to Ogunquit… until next time.
Dazzlers of the Day included Ariana Grande, David Hogg, Bowen Yang, James Scully, and Miles Davis Moody.
One of my favorite spots at the Scotch Hill Inn was the front porch, which wrapped around the front and side of the house, and offered a vantage point that looked over the street and town below. It was where the inn’s magnificent breakfasts were served each morning, and provided a place to rest and relax. On our last afternoon I found it happily vacant, and I set up shop reading a book and watching the day go by. From behind the shade of a viburnum about to reveal its blooms, I looked out at the steady stream of dedicated beach goers returning from their day at the shore. They simultaneously amused and impressed me – their backs strapped with packs and beach chairs and rolled towels, some with tents and surfboards and other paraphernalia that looked as ridiculous to me as it must have seemed natural to them. It reminded me of eating crab legs, which I never do – so much work and effort for such little results.
That said, I adored the beach – though never to the extent that you would see a chair on my back as I made my way very publicly through town. I’ll make a fool of myself in many other ways. Andy and I had already made our pilgrimage to Ogunquit Beach, walking there with some towels earlier in the day before the rush of the crowds, and setting up in a relatively secluded space where we could lie about in peace, listening to the ocean waves, and occasionally approach its frigid water. (There were warnings in the weather reports about how cold it was, despite the heat and sun right above its surface.)
We don’t often get to enjoy a warm beach day this early in the season, but this year we had a whole Sunday of sun to enjoy its seductive charms. Andy loves the beach even more than I do, and I was just happy to join him there, letting the sand warm our bare feet, letting the ocean work its magic and ease any tension or worry that might have remained with us.
We took a new route back, exploring a stretch of beautiful homes we’d never passed before, new delights that proved no matter how well you think you may know a place, there is always more to see and discover, proof that we still have more to seek and more to find.
Back on the porch, I eased into the last afternoon of this little trip, intent on inhabiting the moment, being fully present and drinking in all of the joy and peace around me.
After dinner, Andy suggested we walk into town one last time, and without words or plans, we both instinctively made our way to the start of the Marginal Way, back to where our first journey in Ogunquit had begun so many years ago. The gardens there were once again in full bloom, the blues and purples echoing the azure descent of dusk. We walked along for a bit, finding a place that looked back over the sunset and the water. Andy seemed to want to hold onto the moment as much as I did, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over me as we slowly started back.
The next morning we had our final delicious breakfast – Eggs Benedict for me and a pecan waffle for Andy – then set about to finish packing. It’s strange the way sadness personifies the success of a vacation, but strange or not, there was that familiar tinge of sorrow as we loaded up the car from our first vacation in Ogunquit in five years. We didn’t want it to end, but were happy to have found our way back.
Until we return again…
It took about one full day before we found our footing again. Returning to a favored place after some time away is often slightly disconcerting. Things are never quite as one remembers them, in ways good and bad. Certain places felt smaller and less impressive, others revealed a beauty I never noticed before. One thing that remained as gorgeous and powerful as ever was the Marginal Way, and we took our time walking along its meandering seaside route.
I still remember the first time we made this journey, on our first vacation together almost twenty-two years ago. The same rocks, and many of the same trees, remain intact. Thinking of all the waves that had broken over this space since then felt dizzying, and ruminating about all those years was equally daunting, in a good way.
We’d seen this sea in all manners of moods: wild and thrashing about, calm and placidly gentle, violent and fiery, happy and sparkling, gray and somber, bright and invigorating – and always beautiful, always life-affirming. How something so changeable could simultaneously be so stalwart and stable remains an exquisite mystery to me.
We’ve changed too over these last two decades, and like the gnarled and tough junipers that formed a little protected cove in our favorite part of the trail, we’ve been worn down and aged in ways that reveal our travails and our worth.
We looked out into the Atlantic and watched a boat in the distance, wondering at the other souls on their own journeys…
After almost two decades of visiting Ogunquit, Andy and I took a break of a few years while our usual bed and breakfast was sold and a worldwide pandemic prevented travel. When I mentioned returning to a different inn, Andy was initially hesitant. He does not always deal well with change, especially if he finds something he enjoys, such as our usual guesthouse and his friendship and comfort with the innkeepers. Personally, I was ready to try something new, and I very much needed a vacation given my lack of one for about five years, so it was this or some other dramatic act of self-preservation, and luckily this one worked.
Ogunquit had been calling to us for a while, a missing piece in our annual traditions, and it was the site of our very first vacation together back in 2000. We made about two trips a year there, starting the summer season on Memorial Day weekend and then closing things out either over Columbus Day or Halloween weekends. The last few years, that’s been missing, and I think both Andy and I realized it was time to get back to such beautiful basics.
Given the crazed way everyone seems to be taking trips, we did our best to avoid traffic by arriving in town on Thursday, and a thankfully uneventful ride saw us checking quietly into the Scotch Hill Inn, and a gracious and friendly woman named Rita for us situated with a brief tour of the inn and the schedule for breakfast the next few days. We made our way to our room, and I instantly felt at home.
A four-post bed, high off the floor, welcomed us into this new era, and light filled the space. The sunny weather was precisely the sort of welcome that set us at ease. The entire town seemed to be in full bloom.
While Andy settled into the newness, I did a quick walk about town, peering into old spaces and seeing how much had changed (quite a bit). Along with Covid, there had been five years of life that had run through this Beautiful Place By The Sea, changing and shifting things, like the shore itself.
We watched a Judy Garland film on that first night – ‘In the Old Summertime’ – and she sang this pretty little song. It was a perfect re-entry to our favorite vacation location, and the world, so rocked and wearied since we’d been here last, felt like it was righting itself, if just a little bit.
We entered our own little dreamland, with visions of sea roses and salty sea spray and the invigorating draw of the ocean tugging at the edge of sleep…
Fox News has been a blight on America for as long as I can remember, and it’s only getting worse. They played an integral part in the degradation of truth and honest reporting that has now gravely imperiled our country, feeding lies to their viewers and building a base of hateful rhetoric that is only just beginning to come to violent fruition. Now there’s a way we each might be able to do a small part in dismantling the hold they have over a certain segment of America, and find our way back to truth and patriotism. America is worth that work. Check out the plan in the video below, and visit this site to take part.
Having already garnered the online attention of Mariah Carey herself, Miles Davis Moody cements his status as Dazzler of the Day thanks solely to his smoldering stare. A member of the adored and idolized Pit Crew of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Moody has made a splash on television and all his social media outlets.
One of the things that I have retained since childhood is my imagination. I live and breathe through my imagination, which is why I’ve never had a problem being alone for magnificent stretches at a time. It’s not always helpful, and in my younger years my imagination may have gotten away from me and stolen some focus that might have been helpful at opportune times, but overall it’s been a benefit.
The best part of it means that I’m rarely if ever bored. I can find something of interest in the most mundane and drab of circumstances. The this section of a rug in our living room. While doing some minor calisthenics the other day, I paused to observe the design of it. Most people just walk over it, possibly noting its color or shade, or the comfort of it after a walk on the hardwood. I see several other things in its design: a cute puppy, a regal lion, a wizened wizard, a scrotal sac, a vase filled with tulips, a boring butterfly, and Kim Kardashian’s butthole.
The imagination at work: passing the time with flights of fancy not requiring a boarding pass or a mask.
Joining his ‘Fire Island’ co-stars Margaret Cho and Bowen Yang, this marks the first Dazzler of the Day feature for James Scully. He’s appeared in the series of ‘Heathers’ and ‘You’, but it’s his turn in ‘Fire Island’ that has heads swiveling.
