The Argument of his Book

A pictorial treatise on the passing of time – note the consultation of a pocket watch while waiting for a locked portal – this year’s Holiday Card arrives largely without fanfare or hype. Some years are quieter that way. Not that I didn’t put forth any effort for this one – I still got into a wig and the make-up and an extravagant satin robe and witchy hat – and Suzie followed me around this tomb right before Halloween to take these shots. Then we went to Marshall’s and got Chipotle, or was it Moe’s? Anyway, don’t let that diminish whatever magic we might have conjured here. 

As I was saying, this was all about time, and this past year the passing of time parallels the passing of several people very dear to us. A few of my friends have lost loved ones as well, so a number of cherished people in my circle have been going through some sorrow. That changes the march of time too – elongating it in some respects, condensing and shrinking it in others. Grief, along with the process of grieving, works according to its own timetable – it will not be hurried or rushed, or lengthened for that matter. 

While the wig is not my hair, the color is veering closer to it. Laugh lines are closely aligned to cry lines, and both are deeper these days. The flesh on the rest of the body is fuller, fluffier to put it in a friendlier slant, and I find myself more lethargic and static, staying still rather than being in motion. A slowing down feels right at this moment – a pause of contemplation to give a respectful nod to our past, an honoring of time itself. 

A moment of reflection should include the option of looking back at previous holiday cards. I’ve only clicked a few of these, since looking back can get tiresome, but there are a few that still tickle me. 

• 2004: The Snow Queen
• 2005: Disco Ball Shock Jock
• 2006: Christmas Crucifixion
• 2007: Bad Dumpster Santa
• 2008: Beautiful Christmas By the Sea
• 2009: Angelic Ass
• 2010: The Wedding Card
• 2011: Uncle Al’s Radio Flyer
• 2012: Eat Your Holiday Heart Out
• 2013: The Baby Brothers Ilagan
• 2014: Let It Snow
• 2015: A Holiday Ax to Grind
• 2016: Little Baby Jesus
• 2017: Classy Condo Cheers
• 2018: Incendiary Reflection
• 2019: Bake Me a Man
• 2020: A Family Affair
• 2021: Winter Slumber
• 2022: The Godfather

TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And, while ye may, go marry;
For, having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
- Robert Herrick

Today is our scheduled holiday stroll, which finds both Kira and JoAnn joining in for this year’s festivities after a couple of years away. Last year Andy joined me for the stroll, which was a lovely twist, and may happen again, but this year it felt right to return to basics, and the very first holiday stroll was just Kira and I walking along on a snowy Saturday through the Boston Public Garden.

Since that first one, our strolls have evolved, changing into full-blown weekends with detailed itineraries, spinning off into Children’s Holiday Hours, and somehow retaining a bit of holiday magic no matter how old we get. Here’s a collection of previous strolls while we create memories of a new one. 

Holiday Stroll 2012

Holiday Stroll 2013 ~ Part 1, Part 2

Holiday Stroll 2014

Holiday Stroll 2015 ~ Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Holiday Stroll 2016 – Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Holiday Stroll 2017 ~ Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Holiday Stroll 2018 ~ Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Holiday Stroll 2019 ~ Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Recap

Holiday Stroll 2020: Canceled!

Holiday Stroll 2020: Recalled to Life!

Holiday Stroll 2022: Part 1 and Part 2.

Arriving at the first of December, we careen to the end of the calendar year, and the final month commemorating the 20th anniversary of this website. To that nostalgic end, here’s a linky look-back at some of the Decembers that have already happened here. After the past few months, I’m in no position to predict how the December of 2023 will play out. With a weary and wary heart, I will do my best to quietly enjoy the holiday spirit when it appears, and to try my very best not to get annoyed when it doesn’t. Scroll below for more December mayhem from the archives of this ancient site…

Going back to the furthers vestiges of a website that used to get updated and wiped clear every two or three years, 2010 is our first flicker of archived dates for December. At the time Ryan Reynolds was apparently single and naked. That’s thirteen years ago, which makes for a substantial list coming up.  

December 2011 offered the usual charms this site has become known for: underwear, Madonna, childhood memories, and VPL.

Rewinding all the way to 2012 brings us back to things that feel long gone – like holidays where children flitted about while blissfully unaware of their phones, television sets that were bulkier than any bulge caught in their reflection, and the typical hints at male nudity that once fueled clicks to this site. 

Jockstraps, parties, vacations, David Beckham in his underwear and More gave 2013 its oomph – and that was a full decade ago. 

By December of 2014, the site found its escapist groove with visits to Maine, Broadway, Cape Cod, Boston, Florida and Minneapolis – and a revisiting of a favorite mantra: you flush it, I flaunt it.

Some almost-naked Zac Efron GIFs were enough to put December 2015 on the map, plus some cologne, Sunset Boulevard, and booty-teasers.

By December 2016 we were all growing up, most notably the Ilagan twins, who were no longer the babies they once were. Not to worry, everything was still as if we never said goodbye. 

The gray hair started coming in circa December 2017 (ok, maybe a little sooner) and time just kept on ticking. 

Filipino family dinner fare, Tiny Threads, and Tom Ford kept things on track for December 2018.

In so many ways, December 2019 feels like the very last month of innocence. Revisiting posts from that time period just prior to COVID is like a portal to another universe since so much has happened since then.

Thick in the muck of COVID, 2020 changed everything, even December, shattering every single tradition to which we so desperately clung, as if we could hang onto youth, or the past, in any meaningful way. 

By December 2021, we were still attempting to find the dazzle and sparkle at the end of the year.

That brings us to last year, and December 2022 brought us back to where it all began: family and friends, and a bonus of God-parenthood. 

Despite the title of the song at hand, there is nothing bleak about the scene at my Mom’s new home. For our first family holidays in the new digs, I wanted to soften the wooden frame of the kitchen, adding some velvet curtains and evergreen garland to lend light and warmth to the area. 

I’m not sure I’ll be decorating our home this year – it feels a little too daunting, and I’m a little too lazy. Andy usually puts up our tree and decorates it, and that will be enough. But for Mom’s home, I wanted to add some extra pizzazz to the festivities, especially this year, as we’ll be spending Christmas Eve there. 

I asked Mom to run some errands while I set it all up, wishing for her to be surprised. Christmas music played in the background, and this song gave me brief pause as I remembered family Christmas moments of the past. 

It will be a different sort of Christmas without Dad, but even in his absence, we feel him still with us. He’s there in the quiet moments, in the times when we would have wandered into the family room to find him watching television or plotting his next bets at OTB. He’s there in a remembered comment, or an offhand laugh, winking from a framed photo, or sending some sign in his own subtle manner. 

The holidays have aways been tinged with an underlying melancholy, in the way that they force us to examine what matters, to find the best parts of ourselves and try to keep them present for the year that follows.