Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Sister of the Moon

Some call her sister of the moonSome say, illusions are her gameThey like to wrap her in velvetDoes anyone, ooh, know her name?

A holding place for magic, then.

A sacred circle of sorts.

Some say ‘witch‘ like it’s a bad thing, the same way they say ‘bitch’, and the same way they mean it. Casting a spell of words is a dangerous ritual, and how quickly we throw them out. Ropes of words, magical lassoes – as if anything could truly force a person to tell the truth. Where does such a magic land exist? 

Maybe in my own backyard…

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A Bedtime Story That’s Lasted 30 Years

We have reached the ‘Bedtime Stories‘ section of the year – one of the seminal fall releases that this week celebrates its 30th anniversary. That’s right, it was three decades ago when Madonna released this quietly revolutionary album – one that set her up for the remarkable career that has sustained and endured the ensuing decades. Prior to ‘Bedtime Stories’, each and every Madonna moment was earth-shaking and taboo-shattering, culminating with the one-two knockout punch of ‘Sex‘ and ‘Erotica‘. For her die-hard fans, that 1992-1993 era was heaven; for casual observers it was deemed too much, too far, too whatever.

By the fall of 1994, Madonna was looking to rebound from that, and managed the remarkable feat of putting out a successful, if less hyped album, one that featured solid song-craft and continued her trademark trick of reinvention. The whole affair was a soft, pastel-hued work of delicate introspection, percolating R&B beats, and lush vocals. Opening with the jubilantly-defiant ‘Survival’, Madonna immediately and directly addressed the trauma and drama of the previous years, while introducing an of-the-moment sound that felt both fresh and slightly nostalgic.

Lead single ‘Secret’ provided our official introduction to this new era, grounded with a delicious acoustic guitar that built to a string-backed climax; it was a laid-back yet thoroughly intoxicating effort that returned her to the charts with surprising lasting power. It didn’t quite reach number one, but it bobbed around the top ten for far longer than some of her #1 hits stayed in orbit. The same would prove true for the album, which bubbled under the surface for weeks, resurging with her longest run of a #1 single, follow-up ‘Take A Bow’.

As if proving she didn’t want or need the #1s, she released the Bjork-penned title track ‘Bedtime Story’ – one of the most challenging and idiosyncratic songs she’s ever recorded. I’m not sure it even made the top forty, and by that time it seemed to be the point; this marked the major transition of Madonna in my eyes – she was creating music and videos for the sake of artistic purpose, not for chart positions or pop culture milestones. Hence ‘Human Nature’, which was never a chart hit, or one of her more creative videos in my opinion, but said what Madonna wanted, and needed, to say.

The rest of the ‘Bedtime Stories’ album was muted and hazy brilliance – from the soft-focus barely-disco shuffle of ‘Don’t Stop‘ to the lovelorn loss inherent in ‘Inside of Me’ to the sizzling slow-burn beauty that was the triumvirate of ‘Forbidden Love‘, ‘Love Tried to Welcome Me’ and ‘Sanctuary’. Taken as a whole, ‘Bedtime Stories’ was one of those rare cohesive albums whose sound and atmosphere was mostly consistent and sustained, rather than a haphazard selection of power singles for which Madonna had, wrongfully or rightly, become renowned. It was a transitional totem, one that paved the way for her next original studio album, the iconic ‘Ray of Light’ – and without ‘Bedtime’ there would likely be no ‘Light’.

As for my personal memories of the fall of 1994, they were and remain some of the most fiery, salient, and lasting memories of my adult life. It was the first time I ever kissed a man. It was the first time I felt distinctly and terrifyingly on my own. It was the first time I felt like an adult. And throughout it all, I still wanted someone to tuck me in at night and tell me tales of comfort and warmth. Madonna became my mother-figure that fall – and she would remain so throughout all the years that followed.

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Five Years of Sober Living

Five years ago today, I had my last drink of alcohol. At that time, and in the ensuing years, I’ve always said that it was relatively easy for me to stop drinking. For me, that was the case, but what’s easy for me is not usually easy for most people, and I state that without any hubris. In truth, I did have to work at it, but that sort of work – a challenge and a goal – has always been somewhat enjoyable to me (or I wouldn’t do it). My main hat-trick, one of which I’m not even certain why I keep playing, is to do the hard work but make it look easy. Maybe it’s my penchant for wanting to make this world a little prettier; I just never wanted to reveal the effort and machinations involved because they’re rarely very beautiful or interesting. A swan is graceful because it floats and glides effortlessly across the smooth surface of the water – even when in reality it’s paddling like a crazed cyclist on the Tour de France. We don’t need to see the frenzied paddling, but it’s important to realize it’s there.

In the case of the elimination of alcohol from my lifestyle, it was a deliberate choice to be healthier and improve the relationships in my life. It worked on both fronts, but to say it was easy may muddy the waters for others who may be wondering why it was so easy. My case, as a good friend pointed out, is singular and rather rare, though there are components that others might find helpful, so here they are:

The first step – and the key step – is also the most difficult and intangible to describe. It was the realization that I was using drinking to mask/aid social anxiety. While on some level I always knew and understood this to be the case, I didn’t fully put the connection together. That came in therapy, which was the second major step.

Once I explored that, along with the other ancillary reasons for why I drank – family issues, social expectations, boredom – the real need for drinking suddenly dissipated. Superficially I got it, and the image of a drinker always seemed more interesting than the non-drinker, cloaked in wit and bonhomie and the sort of cutting persona I like to, well, cut (“I drink to make other people interesting“). Beneath that, though, I had to get to the core reasons and address those in ways that didn’t involve the band-aid of booze.

The third thing that helped was an intentional removal from social situations for a while, and the support of friends, who were cool with my decision/evolution and who completely understood without question or ribbing if I stopped joining them for a bit. A few months after that, COVID arrived which put everyone in the same isolated place, and that also helped since it afforded me a break before we all started hanging out again. Everyone was changed after COVID, and my not drinking, by that time, was not very much of note.

Fourth, I began meditating. First for two minutes a day, then three, then five – gradually increasing the minutes by one per week so it didn’t feel at all onerous or daunting – and soon enough I was up to half an hour a day of pure meditation – where I sat in silent, deep breathing, allowing thoughts to come until they didn’t come anymore, and finding a baseline of peace and calm that saw me through more stressful moments. 

The last piece that I implemented was that free online Yale course on finding happiness, which filled my time and alleviated any boredom that drinking might normally fill. Any hobby or occupation would likely do – it just had to be something I could focus on to keep the mind occupied and engaged. That’s sort of the purpose of life too I suppose. Taken together, that’s why it was easy for me to simply stop drinking.

Finally, a caveat (as in, NOW a warning?): my drinking was never to the point of chemical dependence. Was I on the verge of that becoming the case? Quite possibly. But when I stopped, I didn’t have any cravings or withdrawal and my medical tests didn’t reveal any issues caused by alcohol, so I feel confident in saying in those respects I wasn’t yet a full-blown alcoholic. I just realized that drinking was no longer serving as the solution for the issues I used it to solve. I was lucky to have supportive friends, and the privilege of being in a circumstance where I could concentrate on becoming healthier.

Five years later, it’s still one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

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Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl Like Me

Rings of fire once populated these flaming autumn days; rings of cock twirled and spun their circles of burn too. Lace of florals, fabrics of sheer, and the power of pretty – it all seems so flimsy, so easily torn. Satin sheets of leopard seemed very romantic as a wise woman wondered what happened when we weren’t in bed. That same sense of female empowerment comes across in the bop and beat of this Chappell Roan song, and female empowerment is about the only hope that seems to exist in these dark days.

You know what they say:
Never waste a Friday night on a first date
But there I was, in my heels with my hair straight
And so I take him to this bar – this man wouldn’t dance
He didn’t ask a single question
And he was wearing these fugly jeans
It doesn’t matter though
He doesn’t have what it takes to be with a girl like me

Some songs remind you of what you needed to be all those years ago, and if you stomp through today with a little extra casual cruelty, the piercing punctures of stilettos piercing hearts that didn’t quite deserve it, more power to you. A riveting thread runs from Madonna through Lady Gaga all the way to this pulsating pussy-power anthem – and self-empowerment lifts everyone, regardless of gender labels and limitations.

Years ago, long before Andy, and somewhere after yet another failed romance, some hyper mega bummer boy, I remember walking through Copley Square on a windy, sunny, and somehow still-cutting day, blaring the bridge of Madonna’s ‘Express Yourself’ and pounding the pavement with purposeful strides, “And when you’re gone he might regret it, think about the love he once had…” My heart was as hurt as it was hellbent on hurting whomever was next

I’m not proud of all the collateral damage that I left in my wake, and all the pain that begot more pain. All I cared about was that my coat billowed beautifully behind me, that I could walk fabulously forward without looking back, and that I would do the dancing and the trouncing and the pummeling on hearts that inadvertently crossed my dangerous and ridiculously dramatic path. 

Get up off your feet, get up on that bar
Walk that walk from Tokyo to New York
With everything you feel and everything you are
Walk that walk, flash the camera
Flash the camera, flash the camera, you’re a star!

Perhaps this false confidence was a major misstep, and I’m not averse to acknowledging the many flaws in the way I executed portions of the past. Perhaps my strut was a mask; perhaps it was the key element to my survival. Perhaps it was the only thing that kept me in existence. Whatever the case, it got me through – or maybe I got through in spite of it all. I still revere the power of a pop song, and the song of a siren who is thoroughly sick of the fucked-up patriarchy that has informed centuries of who we are. 

A super graphic ultra modern
Ooh you got me la-la-la-ing
Hyper-sexy top to bottom girl like me.

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Holding My Nuts

This helpful squirrel loves to hold my nuts.

Well, mine and Andy’s. 

Something for the booty and the mind at the same time

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Sweet Ogunquit Autumn

“I will sleep no more but arise,

You oceans that have been calm within me!

how I feel you, fathomless, stirring, preparing unprecedented waves and storms.” ~ Walt Whitman

Our autumn trip to Ogunquit was blessed with some of the nicest weather we’ve had on our fall excursions – full sun and breezy days, with only one bout of gray and a bit of rain near the end. Staying at the Anchorage, our group of three – me, Andy and Mom – was right on the shore, and the backdrop of the ocean provided a calm setting for the long weekend. 

While the pumpkins and gourds and corn stalks were on their fall display, summer lingered in the blooms that were till going. Like our cleome at home, the cleome here was still blooming, along with cosmos and roses and that October showpiece the aster

While our last trip to Ogunquit was our first without Dad, this one felt a little lonelier. Back then we were just finding our way – and it was all new and uncharted – enough so to distract us. This time we were also back at the place where he and Mom always stayed, which I think made it a little sadder for her. Still, there was beauty, and someone was smiling upon our quiet and pretty weekend by the shore. 

The weather looked to be best on our first full day there, so we made that our Marginal Way day, taking our time walking along the majestic stretch of shoreline, pausing on a couple of benches and taking in the brilliance of the day, and the ocean. 

And so the other days passed – the weather turned for the better when storms were predicted, holding off until the end. We napped, and we sat by the ocean, and I made a few solitary walks and shopping excursions about town. A welcome break from our fade-to-black fall, even if the cowboy hat remained. 

Fall unfurled its golden hour moments – the golden hour of the day, the golden hour of the year.

Saving our favorite restaurant for last – the cozy Walker’s, where a couple of fireplaces staved off the cold night – we arrived and peered into the warm environs.

We were seated near the main fireplace, which was kept stocked with fresh logs throughout the evening. I had one of the best duck dinners I’ve tasted in years – something Dad would have ordered and loved. 

We closed out the holiday weekend as the weather turned to something similar to spring, and since spring will come again that feels like a fitting place to close this little chapter. 

“Whenever I look at the ocean, I always want to talk to people, but when I’m talking to people, I always want to look at the ocean.” ~ Haruki Murakami

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Perils of Fall

Falling horse chestnuts.

Shit is real. And dangerous.

They’ll poke your eye out, just as you’re looking up.

In Ogunquit, there is a majestic horse chestnut tree right on the main drag, with a sign above that warns passers-beneath it to ‘watch for falling horse chestnuts’. I don’t think looking up is the best advice at such a time, but I get what they meant. 

Stay tuned for our brief Ogunquit recap – it was truly beautiful. 

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

Skateboarding up a steep hill. Why?

Also, skateboarding. Why?

#TinyThreads

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Kamala, Obviously

It’s disheartening to think that our Presidential election is as close as the broken media is portraying it to be. Kamala Harris is a capable prosecutor; Donald Trump is a convicted felon. That alone should be enough. For some reason – the misinformation and willful ignorance of Americans perhaps – it’s not, so if you’re still somehow on the fence for this very important election, a few facts for your perusal:

For freedom: In his own words, Trump killed Roe v. Wade and the right of women to make their own health decisions. Under his Project 2025 blueprint, and with the help of his VP pick JD Vance, Trump will likely implement a national abortion ban, to say nothing of the risks he poses to such options as IVF. 

For your finances: Trump’s tariff plan will tank the economy and raise costs of everything even more. His tax breaks will not benefit you – you do not make nearly enough money to benefit, and neither do I. Also, to count on someone whose companies have gone bankrupt multiple times to help our economy is downright stupid. 

For border security: Trump killed the bipartisan border bill that would have protected our borders – he is not interested in border security. He also had four years as President to build that wall, and failed miserably

For backing the blue: Trump instigated the January 6th insurrection, resulting in police dying, our Capitol being breached and vandalized, and putting our representatives in danger. Trump wants to pardon all of those criminals. 

For patriotism: Trump has called injured and killed veterans ‘suckers’ and ‘losers’; his generals have sounded the alarm on his fascist plans; his own Vice President – Mike Pence – won’t support him, largely because Trump didn’t care that his own supporters wanted to hang him on January 6

For character: Trump is a convicted felon, who cheated on his third, and then-pregnant, wife with a porn star, then lied and paid money to cover it up. He lies more than anyone else on the planet, and still clings to his sad and repeatedly-disproven lie that he didn’t lose the last election

For safety: Hundreds of thousands of Americans died thanks to Trump’s bungling of the COVID pandemic; he thought, and said out loud, injecting bleach might help. He was given a blueprint for how to handle such an event and threw it out because it came from President Obama. We all know someone who has died from COVID, and that might have not happened if someone competent was in charge at that time. 

For competence: Trump is a fucking moron. 

If you’re still voting for him in the face of all that, you should examine why. Deep down, you know. And I have a feeling it’s not in the name of anything noble or good. 

If you haven’t educated yourself on the merits and plans and detailed vision that Kamala Harris has for our great country, read it all here. This is substance. This is serious. This is a responsible adult who cares about our country. This is the best way forward. We cannot go back. 

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Dazzler of the Day: Jon M. Chu

Director of the most highly-anticipated film of the year, ‘Wicked’, at least in the giddy circles I frequent, Jon M. Chu brings an epic arsenal of film work to Gregory Maguire’s novel and the musicalized version that’s still packing in audiences on Broadway. To truly capture the wonder of Oz would take a visionary, so I’m confident that it landed in the right lap. Chu has helmed such memorable films as ‘Crazy Rich Asians‘ and ‘In the Heights’, as well as filmed concerts of Justin Bieber and the dance films ‘Step Up 2’ and ‘Step Up 3’. He knows his way around a musical dance number, and is genius at combining swirling camera work with dramatic visuals and compelling music. He earns this Dazzler of the Day for the trailers of ‘Wicked’ alone – and advance buzz is that this first installment absolutely defies gravity. 

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One Last Swim…

We teetered on the edge of 80 degrees yesterday, and it felt sickeningly like summer again when I finally took a late lunch. Once I got home, I hopped right into the pool while Andy set up the grill for one final round of hamburgers. He had had the foresight and wisdom to heat the pool to a cozy 84 degrees, so swimming in the warm water was a welcome embrace of comfort and pleasure – and not something I thought I’d get to do again this year. A bonus bout of summer coming later than it ever has before. Global warming indeed.

It also offers the ideal bit of counter-programming for our fade-to-black fall, and is a lovely little hint of the next summer to come – for there is always another summer… until there isn’t. This idyllic scene will be but a dream for the next six months, so having a last bit of joy gives Andy and I that spark of happiness to last through the coming winter

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Dazzler of the Day: Christian Siriano

Oodles of ruffles, powerful colors, and layers of talent are hallmarks of Christian Siriano and his impeccable fashion creations. Siriano has done the impossible and made a name for himself by designing for some of the biggest stars in the world; it comes from a place of unique beauty, sumptuous style, and an eye for art that lends each of his creations something incredibly special. He easily earns this Dazzler of the Day for years of pushing the boundaries of what fashion can be – check out his website here for a collection of beauty. 

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Pumpkin Season

‘Tis the damn season.

Here’s a pumpkin

There’s nothing great about it

It’s going to be in the 70’s today.

I don’t feel like blogging

I don’t feel like doing much of anything

It’s a feeling of blah.

Of meh.

Of fuck it all

But enjoy this pumpkin, and your fall fun

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Now A Warning?!

In a grand tradition of seeing powerful duel-female-lead musicals, I’ve gifted Andy with a preview of ‘Death Becomes Her’ as his birthday gift. It joins other notable Broadway events such as ‘Wicked’, ‘Grey Gardens‘ and ‘War Paint’, that we were lucky enough to catch early on in their runs with the original casts. That meant we got to see Kristin Chenoweth, Idina Menzel, Christine Ebersole and Mary Louise Wilson in their respective iconic roles. 

The new musical version of ‘Death Becomes Her’ is fronted by two powerful leads – Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard – taking over the Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn roles from the original movie. While it’s never been a favorite of mine, it’s grown on me over the years – and Andy has always loved it. He never met a bit of slapstick antics, musical comedy, and Meryl Streep madness he didn’t adore. 

After hearing a few snippets of this one – including an incredible duet between the leads – I’m fully on board to giving this purple potion a try… late warnings be damned!

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A Sexy Recap

This marks the date way back in 1992 on which Madonna released her infamous ‘Sex’ book – a day after she released her ‘Erotica’ album – a proper collection of hook-filled bops that never got the admiration it deserved until decades later. Powerful artistic work often works that way. Anyway, this isn’t about Madonna, oddly enough – it’s our weekly recap

These merry marigolds did their vamp.

Something is brewing

A sorcerer by a sorceress.

A last floral dance?

Grounding myself.

Warts and all.

Naked and homophobic.

Dangerously feminine.

At midnight we get down.

Sun cutting through fall.

Happy birthday Andy!

Shawn Mendes liked Troye Sivan’s butt – and who could argue with that?

Dazzlers of the Day included Niecy Nash-BettsNicholas Alexander Chavez, and Kelly Friel.

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