09
August
2014
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August
2014
09
August
2014
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August
2014
Poolside Family Shenanigans – Part 1
It’s not supposed to be, but summer is a busy time in these parts. Most of the business is fun, but it’s still a bit of work. Luckily we have some great people to make it all worth-while, like the family members you will find in this post. I don’t share a great deal of information about my family, but regular readers have come to know most of the key players. Here’s another glimpse at them.
09
August
2014
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August
2014
Lavender Lust
Even when the heat of day has rendered the concrete walkway around the pool unwalkable in bare feet, the lavender remains upright and true. Though the main flush of flowers has long since passed, these hardy plants will throw out a few random blooms from now until the fall. Long a signifier of peace and calm, lavender has been a favorite of mine since I was a kid. The fragrance alone is worth putting in a few plants, but the neat and tidy form, along with the soft gray-green foliage and enchanting blooms further recommend this as a necessary garden addition.
Its rustic elegance can be utilized in both formal and cottage-style gardens, and its silvery-gray hues lend a cooling aspect to the hottest days of summer. Individually, the bloom stalks are delicate and small – taken together they form a cloud of purple, a lavender haze that bees adore and worship. I don’t blame them.
08
August
2014
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August
2014
A Big Apple Birthday
August is here. The month of my birthday is at hand. Remember the time I made up a birthday registry? That was fun. Even if I only got one item on the list. (When the starting price of a gift is $250 you tend to weed out a lot of casual gift-givers. Lesson learned.) Nowadays, I have this convenient Amazon wish list with all the incidental smaller gifts on it – along with several big-ticket items (there are a couple of Tom Ford Private Blends available – not to mention some fantastic art books). For those closer to me who may still be wondering what might tickle my fancy this birthday season, allow me to produce a list more reasonable than the Louis Vuitton items that occupied that first birthday registry in my more hubris-oriented youth.
In rather unprecedented fashion, Tom Ford is not at the top of my wish list this time. Since the Mandarino di Amalfi craze of earlier this summer (a scent so intoxicating I had to run out and purchase it myself) I haven’t found a Private Blend that really called to me. Mandarino’s sister frag, Costa Azzurra, was nice, but doesn’t have the staying power to merit such a hefty price point. Besides, the end of August doesn’t call for a bright summer fragrance. If I were to go for a Tom Ford fragrance, it would be the elusive ‘London’ Private Blend – currently only available in the London flagship store (and perhaps online if one is especially crafty and willing to deal with the steep exchange rate). That may be a wish beyond realistic possibility, but that’s what wishes are.
Without Mr. Ford, that frees up a spot for another fragrance. September is a tricky pocket of time for cologne. The days can be summer-hot, but the nights can be cooler. A little bit of citrus and a little bit of pepper offer a good balance together, but I haven’t had time to determine which scents best exemplify that right now. It may mean a spur-of-the-moment selection (like the Amber Absolute birthday gift from a few years ago). Or it may mean no new fragrance, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Given my love of theater and travel, it seems odd that I’ve never asked for a trip or tickets to a show, but it’s never too late to start a new tradition. And so, in the winding trajectory of this post, I may have talked myself out of a birthday cologne, and into something entirely different. After this year’s Broadway renaissance, a rekindled passion for the Broadway musical may mean that my birthday wish is a weekend in New York. Never in my life did I think I would want to spend my birthday in the city that too often annoys me, but if I can stick to those activities and the spaces that I love, why shouldn’t it be a wonderful time?
So I’m thinking Saturday, August 23 and Sunday, August 24 at the Waldorf Towers or the Standard – two hotels that are quite different, but have each called to me over the years. I’ve taken that Monday off for the return trip home. A day of shopping on Fifth Avenue, perhaps venturing all the way up to the Tom Ford flagship store, and maybe a walk back through Central Park, and then a show (one of the following four) on the evening we don’t do the fancy dinner:
- Kinky Boots (seen it, but worth seeing again, if only to get Andy’s take on it)
- The Book of Mormon (because, rather blasphemously, I’ve NEVER seen it)
- Bullets Over Broadway (which actually closes on my birthday – hello cosmic hint)
- A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder (perhaps too close-to-home?)
I’m leaning toward ‘Bullets’ as that’s one of our favorite movies, and with a closing date on my birthday I think it may be the one (I’ve never seen a show on its closing date, but I’m guessing that’s a bittersweet and special time).
I looked at La Grenouille for a dinner (it’s one of the places where Truman Capote reportedly entertained his swans), but that was booked the entire weekend so I need to find up with a suitable substitution. Recommendations always welcome. In the meantime, start saving: my Amazon Wish List.
The month of the Virgo is upon us.
07
August
2014
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August
2014
Ash on a Brick Sidewalk
It was as if it happened a few weeks ago, rather than a quarter of a century, but such is the way time and memory play tricks on the heart. We were sitting beneath a thorny hawthorne that has since been cut down. It stood outside the window of my childhood bedroom, and at the moment I’m recalling it was shedding its early summer blossoms. Petals of the purest white floated gently down like the first snowflakes of a winter storm.
My Uncle sat beside me, on the brick sidewalk in front of the house. We’d been wiring outside all day, and we paused for a slight break before getting cleaned up for dinner. He brought an ever-present cigarette to his mouth, and my brother and I watched as he flicked a bit of ash onto the mossy bricks, in dangerous proximity to his faded yellow flip-flops. A few needles of the yews he’d been pruning clung stubbornly to his shirt, and beads of perspiration lined his brow from the hot day. We looked to him for wisdom, for the lessons of life. He could teach us things that Mom and Dad could not. He knew the other side of the world.
Strangely, I do not remember the lesson of that particular moment, just the way he sat there, rather quietly contemplating the mid-point of a day. We watched him inhale, and then the cigarette was done. It was always over sooner than any of us wanted it to be.
I was reminded of that day when I saw photos of a recent family gathering – to which I wasn’t invited or informed (I’m sure I’m just being paranoid, and that it wasn’t intentional to leave me out, but one does wonder. Just kidding – of course my family loves me, they just don’t want me around. Kidding again! If we didn’t laugh we should cry.) In some ways, I’m the contemplative Uncle these days, minus the cigarettes and ratty flip-flops, but with the same pensive look in my eyes. Always somewhat outside, always somewhat apart, always somewhat alone.
06
August
2014
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August
2014
Bitter & Blue
It feels blasphemous to say it, but the summer is more than half over, and speeding along at a rate far too fast for my comfort. Let’s stretch it out a bit, slow it down. At times like this, I think back to childhood, to the days when summer seemed to last forever. The beginning of August, before things got too ripe, before the zucchinis were too plump with seeds, held the aspect of endlessness. The roads stretched further then, and they were lined with wild blue chicory and Queen Ann’s lace, neither of which flinched at the heat off the pavement.
Bees and butterflies visited the umbrels of the lace-like blooms, and cicadas screeched into the midday warmth. Only the occasional passing car broke the insects’ spell, but they always resumed their buzzing. It was better when those were the concerns of the day, when the only threat was an encroaching storm-front – and even that held the possibility of toothpick races in the rain, of puddle-jumping and salamander-seeking. The best parts of boyhood might very well take place in the summer.
Every now and then I’ll pass a patch of chicory and Queen Ann’s lace, pausing in the summer sun, and remembering a time when summer was the destination. It seems we’ve arrived again. Let’s make it last.
05
August
2014
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August
2014
Summer So Sparse
In case you haven’t noticed (and a few of you complainers most certainly did, thanks so much) things have been a bit light here as far as content and posts go. To that I say, ‘Tough titties,’ because it’s summer and I’d rather be floating in the pool or working on the new project than tethered to a lap-top that burns right into my crotch. Save those warm willies for when the winter comes back. I’m out. Check back in the fall if you want something serious. In the meantime, naked guys, shirtless guys, bulging guys, and lazy-ass posts like this one. Sing along with me…
05
August
2014
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August
2014
Tom Daley, Back in the Speedo
It’s been more than a hot minute since Tom Daley was last featured here, which is too long for some people, so here you go. This trio of Speedo pics was taken at the Commonwealth Games, where Mr. Daley recently earned a gold medal for Best Dive or something. (Call me when he’s up for an Oscar, or the Olympics again – or better yet, when he teams up with Dan Osborne.) In the meantime, feast your eyes on this rather morosely-hued swimsuit. (I hate maroon.) He should take more cues from Danny O.
04
August
2014
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August
2014
A Recap for the First Days of August
My birthday month is finally here! Not to worry, it’s not until the 24th, but start saving those paychecks because I’m putting up the official birthday wish list very shortly. What? You came to a website named ALANILAGAN.com and expected to find anything other than hubris? Move along, move along. Before we get into all of that fun, however, a look back at the last week of July, which came and went awfully quickly. Too quickly. We need to slow this summer down.
The rain returned, though it was not wholly unwelcome.
You know what they say about big ears.
A favorite summer pastime: the adventure movie.
Another favorite pastime: feasting on man candy using only your eyes.
A summer song, for putting a capital ‘F’ in it.
What’s your rush? You’re missing all the flowers…
Last but certainly not least, the parade of Hunks flew its bright shirtless banner in the well-toned forms of Chris Pratt, Diego Miguel, James Whiteside, Mark Mackillop, Chase Finlay, James Magnussen, and John Barrowman.
03
August
2014
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August
2014
Witches Can Be Right, Giants Can Be Good
It first cast its spell over me in 1988. At Proctor’s Theater with my Mom and Suzie, the house lights went down, the fairy tale began, and we walked ‘Into the Woods.’ I was too young to fully understand the giant metaphors, but I understood the feeling of loneliness and abandonment, even at a young age. A short time later, I got the cast recording and learned it start to finish. I played the lush Stephen Sondheim score over and over again, taken with its whimsical melodies set against dark undertones and epic worldly themes. I was drawn in by the music, enthralled by the fairy tale references, and moved by something much deeper.
The prettier the flower, the farther from the path.
Years later, Suzie and I would attend the Broadway revival of the show. Viewing it as an adult was a different experience, but not vastly so. In some ways – many, a few would say – I was still that kid in the audience. Rapt with wonder, entranced by theatrical magic, and touched by the themes all over again, I found myself thinking of family, and friendship, and the ways we try to help each other through the woods.
Just remember: someone is on your side, someone else is not.
This December, ‘Into the Woods’ gets its Disney-fied movie release, at the hands of ‘Chicago’ director Rob Marshall. While I’ve heard of some sanitizing of the plot (oh Disney, people have affairs, get over it) and things will have to be streamlined (it’s a tangle of entwining storylines), I have some hope given the trailer seen here.
Sondheim’s genius was in the way he crafted such deceptively-accessible music to go along with such subterranean themes of darkness and despair. The chilling conceit is hinted at in these delicious peeks at Meryl Streep as the Witch and Johnny Depp as the Wolf. If anyone can hold onto the gritty integrity of the source material, it’s Ms. Streep.
How excited am I to see this on the big screen? Let’s just say this is the first time I’m contemplating seeing a movie on Christmas, the day of its release.
I wish…
I know.
02
August
2014
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August
2014
The New American Gothic
My family and I posed in front of the Ice Blue Show Queen in her virgin voyage to Amsterdam, NY. She has since been outfitted with chrome license plate frames, because my car fanaticism has taken root. All this time I’ve been worried about catching the menopause from co-workers, I didn’t realize the car obsession syndrome that was right next to me in the form of my husband. It’s the unsuspecting ones who always get it.
02
August
2014
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August
2014
A Capital ‘F’ In It
A seagull pokes its head over the sand dune. Among beach grass and scattered feathers, it peers at us from a distance, then flaps its wings and disappears. The wind is strong on this day, scattering sand into waves that echo the ocean. Examined closely, the grains are fine, and the sand here is soft. In-between our toes, it sifts as if in an hourglass. I bury my foot deeper. The breeze is cool on the tip of Cape Cod, and for this overcast day the beaches are relatively empty. It’s late in the season – end of August or early September – and Suzie and I have made an impromptu trip to Provincetown. The year is 1995.
We had driven over in the rain, and somehow Suzie found us lodging for the weekend. The fall semester was set to begin in a couple of days. We didn’t want the summer to end. On our last day, instead of hitting the road, we made our way to the beach. Not the gay beach – it would be a few years before I learned the long and winding way through the marsh and dunes to make it there – but a quiet stretch of shoreline where only a few other brave folks withstood the chilly wind. I would have left early in the morning, but Suzie wanted a day at the beach, and in the first break from the rain, and our last hours on the Cape, we took it.
I listen to the waves crash rhythmically upon the shore. Their roar is muffled beneath the rushing wind. I put on a pair of headphones, as much for the music as to shield my cold ears. A Shirley Horn song begins as my eyes follow a fellow walking along the beach.
He is my fate,
with capital “F†in it,
Now in my dreams,
there’ll be someone definite,
ring down the curtain,
I’m certain at present,
my future just passed.
On a plaid pillow, I lean back. Suzie snaps a photo, likely at my insistence. The sun looks as if it wants to break through, but a layer of clouds prevents it. There will be no direct sunlight today. That doesn’t bother me as much with Suzie by my side. I don’t know then that this moment will be one of my happiest memories, before the entanglements of romance began for both of us, before the break-ups and breakdowns. For now, the hope and possibility and excitement of love looms beautifully on the horizon, just ahead of us, and the only thing bothering me is the impatient anticipation involved: I cannot wait to find it. To find him.
Don’t even know if he has been spoken for,
If he is tied, the ties must be broken, for,
life can’t be that way,
to wake me then break me,
my future just passed.
Stars in the blue,
though you’re at a distance,
you can assure me,
but sometimes a girl encounters resistance,
help me to win this boy.
I don’t know what he’ll look like, but I’ll spend the next several years searching, and seeking out the one. Some will come close, and I’ll try to force them into the place of my heart where I most want someone to fit, but I begin to doubt that anyone will fill that hole. Even those who love me, at least for a moment, seem ill-suited for such treacherous and tedious environs. I watch them pass on. I watch them walk away.
Here are my arms,
may he find illusion there,
Kiss my two lips…
There is passion I find along the way. Enough to sustain, enough to maintain hope. And there is love. Even when it is fleeting and ephemeral, it matters. I believe this because the alternative is too grim to fathom. When the world turns dark, and loneliness cries forlornly like the whimper of a trapped animal, you will believe in almost anything.
Now that I’m loving,
I’m living at last,
my future just passed.
01
August
2014
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August
2014
Miscellaneous Man Candy
Every now and then a post comes along to catch all the miscellaneous pics of previously-featured Hunks that have been revealed in the time since their crowning glory. This is one of those posts, and it’s a catch-all for some heavy-hitting hunks that have already graced these virtual pages. We begin, as we often do, with Tom Daley – and it’s a very good place to start.  These shots are from his latest calendar. Everyone loves it when Tom gets wet, and Tom is more than game to please the fans.
Ronnie Kroell is another celebrity who knows how to treat his fans, as seen in this pair of pics. His workout regime is reaping wondrous rewards, most of which are easily visible to the naked, and thrilled, eye. His work for the Friend Movement adds a layer of depth to such a pretty façade, and it feels good to celebrate someone whose inside is just as gorgeously-rendered as the outside.
This hairy shot of Jude Law, who bounced his naked ass around so sexily here, shows him aging in an impossibly hot manner. Chin up, man.
Finally, a pair of peeps whose butts merit their own post, but who will have to suffice with this major minor feature. First up is tennis champ Novak Djokovic, who previously posed in his black briefs and super smile.
Second, and bringing up the hottest rear ever, is Matthew Camp. Mr. Camp has been here a number of times before, notably for his fragrance, his looks, his scent, and his sexiness. This shot should cement his hunky status as he gears up for film stardom.
31
July
2014
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July
2014
The Majesty of Mark MacKillop
He’s been featured here before, but since his new book is available to order now, it seems a fitting moment to post a feature on Mark MacKillop. ‘Rm. XIV’ is Mr. MacKillop’s coffee-table book collection of photos taken during a ‘West Side Story’ touring stint in Europe. He described the tour as a challenge that left him feeling isolated, which, to our benefit, resulted in this collection of intimate portraits.
With an introduction penned by ‘Kinky Boots’ star Billy Porter, the book comes with Broadway’s blessing, and some serious theatrical fairy dust. MacKillop is one of those rare performers who seems inwardly shy and introverted, while thrilling the world with his talent and craft. ‘Rm. XIV’ offers a peek behind the veil, with the perfect alchemy of intimacy and intrusiveness.
The book can be ordered here, and a few limited-edition versions are still available.
31
July
2014
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July
2014
Adventures in A Galaxy Far, Far Away (And Right in my own Backyard)
Tonight I’m seeing ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ with my pal Skip. His daughter Mia Grace just appeared on the Jimmy Kimmel show going head-to-head with the actual stars of the movie (Bradley Cooper, Zoe Seldana, Vin Diesel, Chris Pratt, et.al) on Marvel trivia (and promptly whipping their butts). More on the miraculous Mia in another post (she merits one of her own). For tonight, Skip and I are heading to what looks to be the movie adventure of the summer. Skip has been my man-date for a number of movies over the years, and he’s a reminder of what I miss most by not hanging out with straight guys that much.
There’s also the thrill of an adventure movie, something that harkens back to the first time my brother and I saw ‘The Goonies.’ I remember coming out of that movie and yearning to go on a similar thrill-seeking journey. We spent the summer riding our bikes through the neighborhood or exploring the forest behind our house, hoping to find our way into an adventure that offered a bit of danger, but not enough to truly threaten or frighten us. Measured risk, wherein we’d try to tempt the neighborhood bully into giving chase and following us along a booby-trap-laden forest path. (That’s what I said! Booby traps!) Of course it never came to fruition, but the planning and anticipatory delight we took in mapping out the possibility was all the fun we needed.
Other movies through the years inspired similar adventure-seeking desire: ‘Cloak and Dagger’, ‘Adventures in Babysitting‘, and the first ‘Batman’ reboot by Tim Burton. After each, I was left wanting something more exciting to happen in my life, some exciting trip down the rabbit-hole that resulted in growth. In some ways, I longed for the simple cementing of friendship that happens when you go through something so extreme with someone else.
