Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Channeling June

When I think of June, I often think of Lee Bailey, the gardener/chef/designer/lifestyle guru who was Martha Stewart before she became Martha Stewart, and who passed away several years ago. His books, such as ‘Country Weekends’ and ‘Country Flowers’, remain among the most inspiring in my collection. I’ve been perusing his Southern cooking recipes in preparation for an upcoming weekend in Connecticut. (Hey, it’s south of us, so Southern cooking will work. Anything warmer than Zone 5 will be a welcome blast of heat at this point.)

Mr. Bailey once described June as the time of the year when the roses were practically tumbling off their trellises, so prolific and abundant was their blooming power during this month. June is certainly one of the happiest months, containing within it the last day of school and the first day of summer and the promise of a sunny stretch of warmth (even if may not arrive until July).

June is all hope and freshness and beginnings, and it shows in the blush of the roses.

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Pairs of Pretty Pecs

It’s Friday night, so let’s have an easy-on-the-eyes-and-intellect kind of post. These are just a few pairs of photos from some handsome blokes who have appeared here before in various states of undress. It begins with an actual pair of gents – Jack Laugher and Dan Goodfellow – British divers who have filled out Speedos prior to this in posts that can be seen here, here, and here. They also tend to hang out with Tom Daley, who has had his share of Speedo features here, here and here.

Maluma has made quite a splash of late thanks to an assist by Madonna. He’s also been a Hunk of the Day here.

Shawn Mendes continues his Calvin Klein conquering of the underwear world, even if the boxer brief motif is getting a little tired and stale. Did no one think to put him into a pair of simple briefs like these guys? No matter. Mr. Mendes has lit up this blog in posts like this and this, so he gets his double nod here.

Last but most definitely not least is this pair of photos from Gus Kenworthy and a very lucky bike. Mr. Kenworthy has appeared in all his naked glory here and here and very much here. Three little links that open way up. Which is better: front or back?

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Stuck in the Midst of Massholes

Sunny days have been few and far between this spring, so when we have one we’ve sort of been going crazy. Such was the state of affairs when I met up with Kira in Boston a couple of weekends ago. It was a Full Blue Moon, some crazy bit of astrological torture that rivals Mercury in Retrograde for wreaking havoc on folks cognizant of it and completely unaware. This time I fell in the latter group, as I only realized it after-the-fact. Sometimes that’s helpful, as when you want to be extra careful about not leaving your credit card somewhere besides your wallet. (Ahem, guilty.) And sometimes you realize things would have gone just as awry if there were no moon at all. But I’m getting ahead of myself and the tale of this trajectory, so let me begin with a rather annoying trip on the Mass Pike.

Following a bunch of Massholes driving 60 MPH in the passing lane and not allowing the sane ones among us to get by put an initial damper on the day, and the steady fall of rain for the cajillionth weekend in a row did nothing to abate it. I did learn a little lesson on that day, as I seethed and swore whilst in the throes of a rare bout with road rage, and it was this: the only person getting upset and angry and ruining their day in the situation was me. The other driver was blithely unaware of the pack of fifty vehicles that had collected behind them, each as agitated as the others, and even with high beams or horns blaring, my fit of wrath was not going to have any effect on the person ahead of me. The single thing which I could, with some effort, manage was my own take on the situation.

So I eased off the gas a little.

I took a deep breath.

I turned up the music and started to sing. “Ven comigo, let’s take a trip!” I sound amazing in the car when no one can hear me.)

The anger subsided.

The rage disintegrated.

The wrath fell completely apart.

In a few miles, my countenance had completely changed. Even in the rain that would accompany me for the entire trip into Boston (and a few hours beyond) my spirit would not be dampened. It was reassuring to see that in the midst of such fury, a reserve of peace and calm could be found if I focused enough on not focusing on what irritated me. (A lesson I should bring to my Twitter account.)

An auspicious start to a May weekend in Boston… I’ll describe it more fully in Sunday’s posts.

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Cold-Hearted Spring

At the time I am writing this, it’s practically June, and after a day of rain it is now a balmy 49 degrees and the heat is kicking on. Why has spring forsaken us in such a cruel (and cold) manner? I don’t know, but it’s terribly tiresome and I am completely over it. The only saving grace about this is that it has prolonged the blooming period of our beloved Korean lilacs. Still, what good is a longer blooming season when it’s too cold to be outside? The universe pushes and pulls, struggling for a balance. In the meantime, a preview of our floating flamingo. May the sun return in all its glory, sooner rather than later. And may all the heat that Andy has already poured into the pool not dissipate in steaming heaps of burning money…

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Theater Review: ‘The Cher Show’ ~ Shubert Theatre – May 11, 2019

After attending back-to-back performances of ‘Hamilton‘ and ‘To Kill A Mockingbird‘ I wasn’t expecting to be especially moved or impressed by ‘The Cher Show’ but like the titular character herself, it proved to be surprisingly powerful, as well as glitzy, ridiculous, glorious and sublime. Calling it a juke-box musical may be a disservice, as that misses the important arcs that find their way into the piece, as well as discounting the nifty way the songs and re-purposed to tell the roller-coaster story of Cher’s life (thus far).

Attending the show with my Mom made for an interesting comparison: she recognized all the older songs, while I (being a latter-day Cher fan late to the party) knew more of the stuff from recent years. The show is the perfect bridge between generations, blatantly evoked by the three versions of Cher that inhabit the stage at various moments.

Musically, it’s not a chronological telling of her story through her songs, and that may be key to its success. By positing the thematic essence of her musical selections at key points, it allows for a more varied, though ultimately unifying, exploration of her extensive songbook, while injecting all the life it can into the narrative. Case in point is the exhilarating mash-up of ‘When the Money’s Gone’ and ‘All Or Nothing’~ two relatively recent cuts that perfectly set up Cher and Sonny’s journey to success. While their relationship is core and integral to the story (some might argue it’s the heart of the show), it is ultimately a tale of empowerment, survival, and inspiration. And that can only be accomplished by one.

Holding center-stage in a stand-out performance is Stephanie J. Block as Star ~ already nominated for a Tony Award. She is the archetype Cher, the overriding embodiment of wisdom and grace that this powerhouse of stardom has become. At once world-weary, jubilant, defiant, and sage, she commands the proceedings while knowing the exact moments of when to let her counterparts shine. As Babe, Micaela Diamond channels the younger, unjaded Cher as she grows up with an uncannily-wise mother (Emily Skinner) and meets the most interesting person she’ll ever meet in her life, Sonny Bono (Jarrod Specter).

Mr. Specter makes for a charming Mr. Bono, whose appeal was based both on comedic knacks and an unconventional charisma. While he was clearly blessed with the vocal prowess Sonny could only dream of achieving, Specter wisely and convincingly gets into Bono’s voice, and his charm, making his romance with Cher believable and endearing. After Sonny, Lady Cher comes into her own, as Teal Wicks bridges the emotional wreckage between young love and more seasoned romantic experiences.

When the three Cher characters strut the boards together, it is a Cher fan’s ultimate fantasy, and a self-aware nod to vanity and ego, because without them she never would have gotten to where she is. Countering the simple fact of that is the winning and winsome ways Cher’s own insecurities and disbelief in herself contributed to her widespread appeal. Even as she was blamed for breaking up Sonny and Cher, even as she stumbled into infomercial damnation, and even as she struggled to find her next big success (hello vocoder!) her perceived failures ended up being as inspiring as her improbable run of triumphs.

Is this a perfect musical? Not by any stretch, and it doesn’t pretend to be. Lacking a strong narrative, it’s more of a series of vignettes, some disjointed at best, but it never detracts from the emotional heft of the show. Is it a damn good time? Most definitely. Add to that the incredible talent on stage at all times (there really isn’t a weak link among them) and the cumulative effect is an enjoyable theatrical experience that prides itself on sparkle and spectacle over high-brow serious intent.

Befitting that, the costumes are delightfully scene-stealing characters in and of themselves. Nods to Bob Mackie’s brilliant alchemy with Cher as his muse infuse the entire evening, and the show must have single-handedly kept the bugle bead industry humming nicely for a few months. (There is a jaw-dropping fashion sequence that must be seen to be believed.) Someone once referred to those costumes as feats of engineering, and they truly are. Defying expectations and sartorial mores, they manage to elicit the notion that less is more at the same time that more is more, and when garish meets glitter, the resulting grandiosity is an amalgamation of sass, beauty, decadence and divinity. Cher pioneered the splashy awards show appearance, establishing the red carpet as a moment and event of much more than a means to a promotional end. Those outfits are as much a part of her enduring legacy as ‘Moonstruck’ or ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’.™ Never let anyone try to fool you into thinking that fashion is frivolous, and ‘The Cher Show’ honors that sentiment on a broader scale.

It never gets mean or bogged down by pesky technicalities, and while nothing is too deep or complex, this is more than just a celebration of Cher ~ it’s a celebration of life, of music, of some of the most memorable songs of this last half-century. Of course, for any Cher fan, even a casual one, this is a must-see. My Mom and I left feeling utterly enchanted, entertained, and more than a little empowered. That’s the mark of a good musical ~ it lifts you up, it raises your spirits, and it leaves you feeling a little bit better about being in the world. If we allow it to be, sometimes that’s enough.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

You: You always act like you’re better than everyone else.

Me: Oh, it’s not an act.

#TinyThreads

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Sparkle for Spring

Embellished and adorned with myriad crystals (which were painstakingly sewed on one-by-one, despite my failing eyesight and imprecise handiwork) this is the coat that I’ve been saving for a special weekend, and thus far this year our Mother’s Day weekend in New York has been one of the most special. It garnered a number of adoring compliments, and one profanity-laced exclamation of admiration coupled with a vigorous handshake from an overly-enthusiastic construction worker. I’d anticipated the way it sparkled and threw off the light of day – I hadn’t expected the brilliance of what it would look like beneath the lights of Broadway. It was a fitting finale to a long weekend of sparkle, which is how trips with my Mom usually go. Things are just a little bit more magical when we travel together. 

As for the coat, it’s seeking another special moment to shine.

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Here We Are

Didn’t Gloria Estefan have a song that started like that? I think she did. Ask Suzie Ko – we had a Gloria Estefan moment in a Sears store a long time ago. So much has gone since then, including Sears. Anyway, it’s the Tuesday after a long holiday weekend, and nothing is worse than that, especially when it’s scheduled to rain, so this post will be slight and small and just the littlest bit whiny. Hey, it’s what you came for. Go somewhere else for all-we-need-is-positivity. (I heard the Spice Girls concert opened with huge sound problems. You’d think they would check that shit beforehand. I digress…)

Coming up, when I get around to it, will be a review of ‘The Cher Show’ and a few fun photos of my niece and nephew from our Memorial Day dinner. Both are better than they sound on virtual paper. In the meantime, I implore you to type whatever you want into the ‘Search’ box located somewhere below this post. It’s fun. I don’t like being reminded of the nonsense I may have written in the past, but others do. Check it out. Let’s get this unofficial summer season going. 

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A Recap of Remembrance

Behind-the-scenes preparation for the summer season left my blog on auto-pilot, but hopefully you didn’t snooze through the whole week because there were some notable posts. See if you can find the gems among the wreckage before we head into the final week of May. It went by too quickly ~ the bane of spring and summer…

Let’s begin by tying up all these tiny threads.

That naked Channing Tatum shower photo

Looking forward to this return to the Abbey

Some super sexy Zac Efron GIFs.

A taste of your poison paradise.

Vibrant saturation

Late for Lent.

My version of the Mom selfie, according to Suzie. 

My take on Broadway’s ‘To Kill A Mockingbird.’

There were but two Hunks of the Day: Austin Wolf and Swae Lee

The shock of a very nude Aaron Schock

Happy Memorial Day, everybody. And hello summer…

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A Memorial Moment

One of the more somber holidays, which most of us seem to forget as we celebrate the unofficial start to the summer season, Memorial Day usually finds us departing Ogunquit after a nice long weekend by the sea. For the first time in almost 20 years, we skipped our pilgrimage there, and while we both missed it, we got to be home for the weekend, preparing the house for summer guests, and seeing the daily changes in the garden. In years past we always missed the first flush of peony blooms when we were away (of course this is the year they wait to open).

There are other things coming into their own at this time, such as the Chinese dogwood and Korean lilac. The ostrich ferns, almost fully unfurled, are also at the height of their glory – all freshness and chartreuse saturation. In myriad ways, this is the most beautiful the garden will get – when there are still glimpses of ground to set off the light green, and most of the plants still hold their flower buds tightly within, waiting for a longer stretch of heat and sunshine. It is the moment of hope for all that is to come.

Our pool is open, a breeze gently rustles the curtains of the patio, and in the beauty and the light of an American backyard, I offer gratitude and thanks to living in such a space of freedom. Let’s hope we can hang onto it.

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A Naked Schock of Shocks

Aaron Schock got shirtless for some fitness magazine a few years ago, but that’s nothing compared to what Kenneth in the [212] unearthed with just the slightest of digging. Check out Aaron Schock nude here, and then visit a more innocent post of him merely shirtless here. Sadly, the guy’s a total closeted prick who remains a Republican in the face of all sense. Still, a naked Aaron Schock is better than a suited (and congressionally-seated) one any day. 

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

People throw the term ‘foolproof’ around way too casually, fools being fools.

#TinyThreads

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