A few months ago someone was being especially kind and generous and said that they visited my site as an escape from rest of the crap they found on social media these days. That meant more to me than all the “nice ass” accolades I’ve accrued over the years, and reminded me of an integral reason I keep on writing a blog when they’ve all but gone extinct. This has been a place where I can creatively allow my writing and photography to flourish in unedited, uncensored, and unmitigated glory. It’s messy at times, and unwieldy, and occasionally unsettling, even for me, but for the most part it’s become a place of comfort where memories can be mused upon when they no longer have the power to hurt us, and the frivolous items that occupy one’s entertainment and enjoyment can be highlighted without judgment or harsh criticism.

In recent months especially, this blog has become a place of peace when the rest of the online world implodes with toxicity and unbridled hate. I find myself spending less and less time on FaceBook and Twitter, settling for the quick post-and-run of a promotional link to whatever is up on this blog. I have been avoiding the comments sections more and more, blocking idiots with wild abandon, and mostly setting up shop in this quiet corner where I can relax and breathe and decompress. It is a blessed place to be, and I am sublimely aware of how lucky I am that this is my main concern and worry. 

Even as more of us are awakening to the reality of what our country has become, there is still a need for innocuous spaces like this, for pockets of beauty, for glimpses of calm, for escape from all the nastiness that is happening on our social media feeds. It’s the closest thing to disconnecting while still maintaining an outlet for creative expression. 

Here, the lilacs still bloom for us.

Here, the music still plays. 

Here, the chance for becoming something better looms on the horizon of hope and promise. 

Here, we can sit in silence beside one another, as connected as one human being can be to another in such socially-distant times. We will figuratively hold each other’s hand through whatever is yet to come, in a land of virtual hugs and imagined hand-shakes, and I will feel a little bit better for it. If you are reading this, thank you for being here. I’m here with you too.

It is with a weary and heavy heart that we begin the month of June. Usually a time of celebration and jubilance, there  is nothing but sadness, doubt and worry based on what our country has become. I wish I had something more uplifting and inspirational to say. I wish I could find something that would inspire those feelings in me, but I’m at a loss. While the world burns around us, I turn more insular, relying on Andy to be strong, to keep us going, and somehow he does. Turning off the television and the computer, I take lots of walks in our small yard, examining each plant and tree, breathing in the sweet scent of the Korean lilacs and squatting down to get a close-up glimpse of the tree peony about to burst forth in bloom if the critters don’t eat her head first. In 2020, anything is possible, no matter how heartbreaking or upsetting. On with the recap…

It was a joke just a week ago, but how prophetic this comparison turned out to be. 

I’m now old enough to remember a more innocent time. Most of us are. 

My virgin brush with a virgin.

A flash mob with a purpose, and you know how they make me cry. 

When the bored get bored.

Whispers from loved ones in the perfume of a flower. 

Floral memories are the sweetest.

A gratuitous glimpse of Julian Morris because some gents deserve more than one glance. 

Remembering a lost mate from childhood. 

I hope we can one day dance again.

Mourning what has become of America.

Hunks of the Day included Dr. Andrew Neighbors, Jim Cooney, Rick Fox, Maxi Iglesias, and Giovanni Pernice.

Anyone with half a head and part of a heart knows that what’s happening in the world right now isn’t right.

It’s a story that has lived in America for centuries, the years and layers of blood embedded in the very soil on which our children are raised. And while we have seen some of its ugliness before, it feels very different now, perhaps because of the leadership in charge. Maybe that’s why while I usually do my best to steer clear from political commentary, I can no longer remain silent, and this website must take a moment to take a stand. 

As a biracial gay man of a certain age, I am well aware of prejudice and marginalization. 

As the son of a doctor and nursing professor, I am also well aware of my privilege, mostly economic, which intersects with and sometimes transcends other issues.

But I will never know what it’s like to be a black person in this country.

I am, however, quite sure that every black person has been treated differently at one time or another because of their race. I know this to be true. You know it too. Deep down… you know it too. We have to start there. 

I’ve seen far too many people playing on the safe side of not taking a stand, or worse, taking a position on each singular incident of riot and protest as if it existed in and of itself, and not part of years of systemic inequality, racial profiling, and derelict leadership. 

Kneeling didn’t work. You said it was disrespectful. And you know what? You further shamed such peaceful acts of protest. Now you are upset about what these protests have become. Think about that. In essence, you don’t want any form of protest, and I understand that. It’s uncomfortable. It’s disturbing. It goes against your beliefs.

But the Boston Tea Party was a riot of destruction.

The Stonewall riot was a riot of destruction.

Each was a movement to bring about the destruction of imbalance and inequality.

Kneeling, it turns out, wasn’t enough. And if you can’t understand the need for these protests, or at the very least be empathetic to why it’s happening, if you are so narrow-minded as to treat these actions as criminal acts that are happening outside of a cycle of historical oppression, then I respectfully request that you take a moment and think about the real history of America. This country was built on such oppression. Racism has been woven into the fabric of our existence. We have perpetuated it in ways overt and hidden, in the basic make-up of our social strata, in how and where we live. 

I’m trying to figure out the best way to navigate a life that accepts everyone openly and without judgment. Quite often, I fail miserably. But I’m still going to try. A long time ago I read “A People’s History of the United States of America” by Howard Zinn. A white man wrote about what atrocities the European settlers inflicted on the Native Americans, and later how the insidious stain of slavery bled through everything leading up to the riots of the 1960’s and beyond. The story continues to this day. The fight is necessary. The violence erupts when passive resistance goes unheeded, and the murders of black people continue to happen. 

Black Lives Matter. We should all be saying that, and without qualifying it by saying Blue Lives Matter or All Lives Matter. That intentionally misses the point of the movement, as well as trying to once again erase the ugly parts of our country’s history. It’s time to acknowledge that, and make motions to see our own prejudices and privilege, as well as understanding the need to push back when justice continues to languish. 

People seem to be going stir-crazy right now. I’d love to be going to Boston every other weekend, seeing shows on Broadway, flying to Savannah or California, and going to the movies or out to dinner. Of course I miss those things, but it’s not an onerous punishment to be staying at home. Some people have indicated they are getting bored. It’s always been my opinion that only boring people get bored.

There are more books in the world than can ever be read, more music than can ever be heard, more nuances in the texture of a single ceiling if you know how to look and examine and explore the wondrous working of the mind.

When I was a kid every once in a while I’d work myself into a state where I would think I had nothing new to do, and I’d whine and complain to my mother that I was so bored. Wisely, my mother ignored my aimless whining, allowing me to work through it on my own. It sucked and I hated it, but it made me a better person. I learned patience. I learned quiet. I learned how to be ok sitting still and doing nothing. And for all of my adult life, I have been able to enjoy being quiet and doing nothing. There is such a sense of peace in that. I don’t see that in today’s youth, nor in some of my own generation. People freak out if there’s no television or wifi. They can’t stand to have a few minutes of stillness and silence.

I think it’s because we have been conditioning ourselves to be constantly stimulated and occupied. I never needed that, and I’m much happier because of it. Too many people are tormented by their inability to simply be – to sit in the stillness, to sit in the company of yourself, to be quiet and to be ok with the silence. When you can do that, it’s almost impossible to be bored. Every moment and every situation is the opportunity to return to yourself and the little space you’ve made in the universe. 

And if you’re still bored after exploring the interior of your mind, just go on TikTok and follow @alanilagan already.

Most of you know that flash mobs typically make me cry. Thankfully this one was short enough that no major waterworks erupted, but I will admit to welling up a bit. It happens every time I see people doing their best to better the world in however small a way it happens. This time it may have a little more impact, as the “Wear a Mask” campaign, championed by our own Governor Andrew Cuomo, gets some help with a socially-distanced flash mob treatment to spread the #NewYorkTough word. Created and choreographed by Jim Cooney, this is what New York does best. Check out the full background and credits here, and start spreading the news.

As for the idea of wearing a mask to be respectful of the health of others, only a selfish asshole refuses to wear one when in public.

When the world shakes and shimmies, disturbing the status quo and reminding us that no human is really in charge of anything, I tend to turn to nostalgia and the comforts of remembering a time that seemed simpler and easier and not quite so dim. To that end, I’ve been taking daily walks around our little gardens, soaking in the sun and silence, and remembering the way things used to be. This is not a state in which one should stay, and it’s not a place in which I usually find myself, but for now, for this moment, it is welcome.

These vintage photos were taken during the first or second summer in our current home, about eighteen years ago. We still have that weigela in the background, though it’s on its last legs and in need of replacement. Out with the old and in with the new, and this garden year is about editing and cutting out what doesn’t work. Gardening remains a ruthless game. There is comfort in that too. 

This just about sums it up, and we are not even halfway through the year. 

Here is our pool then and now.

It is in need of a new liner, which is why we didn’t bother to open it, against my instincts, so now here it sits – an ideal habitat for mosquitoes, flies, ducks, and the occasional opossum (that post is coming…) Contrasted and compared to last year’s pool scene, this is a stark reminder of the bullshit that is 2020 in a nutshell. There is a lesson in learning to wait.

Oh well. Such first-world problems aren’t the end of our world, first or otherwise. Annoying? Yes, especially when it’s been sunny and in the 80’s and there is literally nothing else to do, but my mind opens up at such times, and the imagination unfurls like it has since I was a child, and suddenly a backyard even without a pool is a magical oasis. Hell, our living room alone is a place of endless enchantments, with its books and photo albums and music and memories and artistic objects and gifts from around the world. Going through all the stories connected to everything there could take an entire month, and all of it filled with happiness and contentment. 

Now is not the time to opine our current circumstances nor compare it to past glories. So much of our discontentment is based on unreasonable comparisons rather than simply examining the moment at hand and how we feel in it. Where is the beauty here and now? Where might we find beauty in the next hour or so? The rest doesn’t matter. 

For instance, around the pool at the moment is a grand Korean lilac bush in full, fragrant bloom. The ever-increasing stand of Ostrich ferns is at its most perfect stage, when the fronds are full and fresh, in their brightest shade of chartreuse. The peonies are in tight bud with the promise of a perfumed future. There is so much to embrace and cherish here and now. 

And eventually we will make beauty out of the pool again. And it will be better and brighter than before, because it will happen when we are present, when we can be mindful, when we can take it in like we never did.

We won’t be looking back.