The Stark Start

The April showers didn’t wait to arrive, as they took this first morning of April by full-frontal assault. These photos were taken a day or two ago, back when we remembered what the sun looked like. Today it is but a memory. Cue Betty Buckley

I’m in a frisky, funny, cheeky, any mood today – woe to those looking for something earnest or heartfelt. This place is for the ferocious and cockfelt. Search the archives and ye shall find. Let’s race toothpicks to the sewer drain. Don’t let the clown get you. 

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After 20 Years, The Full-Frontal Money Shot

Celebrating the 20th anniversary of this website, this seems as fitting a time as any to reveal the long-rumored full-frontal money shot at last. Certain visitors have been patiently awaiting this day with eager anticipation, at least they were several years ago ~ age and click-bait have tempered that fevered pitch, but there are still some who wouldn’t mind a peek at the twig and berries. 

So stay with us, scroll down a bit, and revisit some fun links that follow – this will be the sort of day that becomes its own holiday of sorts…

This day has long been a fun one here, and there are always a few newcomers that get snagged and reluctantly admit their full-frontal folly

Despite the click-bait of it all, there are still sights to be seen, and even a full-frontal tease (oh hi, Chris Evans) usually provide more eye-candy than typically gets posted here. Such as in this Zac Efron full-frontal piece

Further teasing by David Beckham, Ben Cohen, and Nick Jonas. And more than a bit of Tom Daley too

My very own sex scandal took place on this date in 2015.

A twist on the full-frontal shot, courtesy of ‘Sex’. There’s a certain satisfaction in a little bit of pain

Happy April Fool’s Day everybody! You know I love ya. 

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Another Visit From the Jehovah’s Witnesses of Albany

Standing there in my beaver pajama pants (a gift from Suzie) and a ratty, hole-filled long-sleeved t-shirt with a faded palm tree on it, I greeted the two ladies as though I was expecting them. I’d seen the car drop them off across the street, but figured that after this interaction the Jehovah’s Witnesses had gotten the message that my household was supremely uninterested in joining their cult. Alas, that was not the case, as they made a beeline to our door. 

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m going to take your picture!” I said a tad too cheerily, opening the door as they eyed me with bit of suspicion. 

“Why?” the woman in back asked somewhat accusingly.

“Because you’re on my own property, and in plain public view.” 

They laughed nervously and then produced the pamphlet I’d seen just a few days ago. 

“Can I give you this and invite you…”

“You’re from the Jehovah’s Witnesses,” I interrupted. “Two other people came here last week saying the same thing and handing out the same brochure. I asked them what the Jehovah’s Witnesses said about gay marriage and they said you were against it.”

“Can I read you what the Bible says about that?” she asked, her smile not breaking. 

“No thanks, I’d like you to put into your own words what your organization thinks.”

“Well the Bible says marriage is one man and one woman, and they should come together as one. Can I read you the passage?” she asked as she began to reach into her folder. 

“No, I’m asking what you think about it, what your personal beliefs are about my marriage.”

I believe what the Bible says…”

“So you don’t think my marriage is valid. I’ve been with my husband for over twenty years and you don’t think it’s valid?” Somehow I managed not to sound accusatory or antagonistic, though inside I was getting more irate as I stood there letting heat out of our home, and two people worked to silently condemn my life without saying any of it out loud. 

“It’s not a judgment against you, I can’t decide that for you, I believe what it is in the Bible, which says that a man should be married to a woman,” she said, unwilling to go off script even when asked about her own take on it. 

“The Bible doesn’t believe a man should marry a man,” the woman in back chimed in. “But we don’t judge anyone.”

“Have you read any of the Bible?” the first woman asked.

“Yes, when I was a child I read it,” I said. 

“Did any of those teachings mean anything to you?’ 

“Absolutely. The notions that Jesus never judged anyone, and loved everyone as they were have stayed with me, and I still believe in that. What I don’t believe in is a literal reading of the Bible. It seems close-minded and, quite frankly, stupid, to think that a text remains literally relevant and that nothing has changed or evolved in 100, 200, 1000 years. I also don’t believe that was the intent of Jesus and his teachings.”

The woman in front persisted, “Can we ask if you would like to attend our event next week?”

“No,” I answered, my false smile entirely gone, but still wanting to be as humane and polite as possible. “Your beliefs go directly against mine, and your literal interpretation of the Bible will ultimately make it obsolete. If you want people today to continue believing in the Bible, then you should focus on how Jesus lived out his own life, and it wasn’t condemning or judging others.”

They thanked me and I told them to check out my website as I’d be writing about this encounter. Hey, they wanted me to visit their website. Do unto others…

PS – This is me in my birthday suit. In addition to wildly celebrating birthdays, I’m way beyond saving, so stop coming to the house.

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The Magic of Muscari

The glories of spring blooming bulbs are striking and many, but there are drawbacks too which keep me wary. Even the hardiest and most stalwart among them – the Narcissus and pictured Muscari for example – last for a bit, but eventually die out instead of multiplying as they are supposed to do. I’m not sure why, as they are allowed to go brown and fortify the bulbs until the foliage dies away, and I feed them during the growing season and allow them rest in their dormancy. Whether it’s the critters (lots of underground work by chipmunks and squirrels and rabbits) or the soil, bulbs simply don’t do well in the long run in our yard, so I’ve tended not to grow them. 

That doesn’t mean I don’t love seeing them in bloom everywhere else, especially in the first flush of potted and pampered specimens as seen here. The local markets and greenhouses are filled with spring bulbs now, taking pride of place and leading the Easter bunny brigade. It’s a happy end to winter, a promising start to the new season, and I am here for all of it. 

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Retreat of a Lamb

We have arrived at the last day of March, and though it’s supposed to be departing like a lamb, the weather seems hell-bent on proving contrary. While antsy and anxious to get outside and start working on the yard and gardens, I bide my time in relative peace and quiet, choosing to focus on my daily meditation, and making use of some mindfulness cards that were a gift from a friend this past Christmas. 

Many of the emotional maelstroms of my younger years could be attributed to things that simply fomented and simmered in my mind rather than anything that actually came to fruition. It’s taken many years to see how I was creating such tension and consternation, and I still occasionally fall into the trap of worrying about all the ‘what-ifs’ instead of focusing on what actually is. That’s where daily practice of mindfulness comes into usefulness. The repeated intentions of being present and mindful as a baseline and at-rest condition ideally do not allow much room for the imagined perils that may or likely may not come true, and once you access that frame of mind, it’s easier to keep the nagging worries at bay. 

As we close out March and enter April in dreary and rainy form, I look to the beauty and peace and extra time to sit quietly indoors. There will be time enough for work and play in the days to come. Worrying over it now does no good, so let’s inhabit this moment together, in full awareness. What do you see around you? What do you find most beautiful in this specific moment? There is always something…

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A Letter to Emi on the Occasion of Her 13th Birthday

Dear Emi ~

I’m going to tell you a secret that in no way is intended to cast shade upon your father: I always wanted a little sister, but having you as my niece might actually be a little better. Your Uncle Andy saw from the first mischievous glint in your eyes that you would challenge and enthrall us, and since then you have proven him right, enriching our lives in ways we never expected. 

Noah may have beaten you out of the womb, but you’re one step ahead because you know the old tortoise and hare story, and you take your time to do things in your own way, which will serve you well for the rest of your life. Carrying on, and getting on with life while not worrying what others are doing is one of the greatest lessons one can learn, and you’ve already figured that out. 

You will laugh at me and roll your eyes like you always do when I tell you that what I’m about to say is the greatest compliment I can muster: you remind me of a better version of myself when I was your age, if I’d had the poise and genuine self-deprecation and awareness that you so preternaturally possess. I don’t even think you know it yet, which makes it all the more remarkable and impressive. Hold onto that if you can – I wish I could tell you how but clearly I never learned. 

You will face things I never had to face, because as a 13-year-old girl the world is still stacked against you for so many wrong and ridiculous reasons. You see that, though, and you aren’t so much bothered by it as you are willing to take up against such nonsense without giving it much thought. You are about to embark upon the most meaningful years of your life – what a daunting and powerful moment it must be – and I can’t wait to see how you navigate what’s to come. 

Emi, I don’t think you need your Uncle Al’s help because you have so much figured out already, but there may come a time when you just need someone to listen, or laugh with, or simply remember the silly stories that once made life so happy – and I will always be here for you. When it gets to be too much, when the rest of the world is unwelcoming, or unwilling to accept all the things you can’t quite explain, your Uncle Al will love you no matter what. 

Part of you can’t wait to get older, and your mind is already eons beyond your age – just remember the tortoise and the hare – take your time and enjoy the journey, enjoy all the moments, even the ones that seem to hurt and last forever. They will matter the most, and make the happy ones even happier. And if ever you need help or just an ear to listen, and there’s no one else who would understand, you know where to find me. Happy birthday, my sweet niece Emi.

Love,

Uncle Al

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A Letter to Noah on the Occasion of His 13th Birthday

Dear Noah ~ 

You came into the world first, so you get the first post. Was it that you couldn’t wait, or did you simply have to beat Emi out of the womb? Perhaps a little of both. Over the years, I’ve watched you grapple with and ultimately begin harnessing that energy and power, and using it with grace and good judgment. I also detect a certain sadness in your gaze from time to time, a little indication that you too feel the weight of the world, even if you never let on, even if you champion through it. You should know it’s ok to share that weight, and it’s ok to feel that sadness. 

You rebound and rally well, and life is more about accepting and acknowledging loss than winning every time. I know that’s not what it feels like, and that’s not what anyone will teach you, but I’m hopeful you will master the art of defeat when it has to happen. It makes for a much happier and richer experience. It makes you a stronger and better person. 

Noah, I wish I could write something that would make it all easier for you, that would unlock the secret answers I always sought as a teenager, but if there were words or secrets or solutions, they’d have been written and shared by now. Sometimes you are wiser and more profound than your Uncle Al, and then I feel as though you are teaching me. That’s the way it should be too, and I promise to listen more and hear you out. 

On this occasion of your 13th birthday, when the soul supposedly solidifies into its adult form, you are more put-together than you probably think. If you’re anything like me, this is the point in life where you will begin to form your most-lasting memories. That’s a lot to realize, and I won’t say too much more about it because part of the magic is in not knowing that. And while I don’t have very many of the answers you will soon be searching for, I will always be here for you. That’s what your Uncle Al is for. There will be times when you can’t tell your parents certain things, predicaments that you never meant to fall into, mistakes that you ever intended to make – and throughout it all your Uncle Al will be there to help in whatever way I can. I’ll make mistakes too, and we will have to forgive each other because we will get hurt sometimes, but I will always love you and want the best for you. 

Happy birthday to my first nephew – to the young man named after the person who once gave hope to the world – and the person who gives me hope now – Happy Birthday Noah.

Love,

Uncle Al

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My Niece & Nephew Turn Into Teenagers Today

Holy shit – they’re now old enough to use language like this, and as today marks the 13th birthday of Emi and Noah, and our entrance into PG-13 territory, I’m at a bit of a loss to say much more than that, but here goes my best effort. They knew from the beginning that their Uncle Al would be no ordinary Guncle, even with Uncle Andy steadying the ship; this sea was going to be wild and free and more fun than anywhere or anyone else. They knew too that we’d get wet and messy and test each other’s patience sometimes, but in the end we’d have a good time, and maybe even become a little better for it

Watching these two remarkable children make their way through life for thirteen years has been as fascinating as it has been moving and edifying. They have probably taught me more than I will ever be able to teach them – and I’ve actually taught them a decent amount. My lessons and methods may be unorthodox and weird, but they always gave them a shot. (Getting two eleven-year-olds to sit down and meditate in silence might seem an impossible fool’s errand, but we managed at least five solid minutes, and that’s a success.)

From that rainy, warm day on which they were born, when Andy and I first saw them and held them, and they could fit in two hands, they captured our hearts and changed our family for the better

We’ve had many adventures, and sometimes that consisted of just a few hours of babysitting on my own, trying to herd two children who wanted to go everywhere all at once, as long as they were going in opposite directions, and headed toward something dangerous.

Throughout it all, they maintained the love between a brother and a sister – the unique love between twins – and had each other when the world would turn dim around them. 

Whenever I lost my faith in humanity, something that gets increasingly easy to do, I would think of Emi and Noah, and that faith would be somewhat restored. they were the living embodiment of hope, in all its flawed and imperfect forms, and with all its grace and innocence and power. 

The older they get, the better able I am to relate to them, and as they grow up and gain maturity, I seem to be on the opposite pathing of growing down and losing maturity. Those two trajectories have us on a path to meet somewhere in the middle sooner rather than later, and every time we get together it gets a little more fun

For now, they are still young enough to enjoy their Uncle Al’s quirkiness and eccentricities without cringing too deeply at my middle-aged ignorance of what’s trendy at the moment. As a wise mother once said in ‘Mean Girls’, “You girls keep me young. Oh I love you so much.”

Now that they have welcomed a baby brother into the family, they graduate to older brother and sister status, and the real work and role-modeling begins. Our own adventures shall continue, and I’m already plotting out our next trip to Boston and beyond…

Happy Birthday Noah and Emi! You are adored, you are loved!!

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The Saddest Song (I’ve Got)

It was only Monday, and the week had already kicked us all down. One friend was just getting out of the hospital, for the second time in a week. Another was locked down in the hospital he works at, thanks to some guy with a gun. And then our neighbor had a medical emergency, to which Andy rushed out to offer assistance. I thought about not checking my phone for fear of what news might arrive next. 

Alone, I stood in the middle of the house, listening to the rain on a late-March evening, when the world should have been full of hope. Instead, it was a day of tragic news too – another school shooting left three children and three adults dead. Tornadoes in the south left almost thirty people dead. Standing there, I reached out for a wall, and then brought my hands to my face because suddenly I was crying. 

Darling are you feelingThe same thing that I’m seeing?The troubles of the day,Took my breath awayTook my breath away

I didn’t know whether they were tears of relief or release, tears of sadness or anger, tears of exhaustion or powerlessness, or a little bit of all of it. It was over quickly, because I took one step forward, and then another, and I kept walking, aimlessly through the hall, through the kitchen, into the den, and back. One step after another, because it was all I could do, and all I could think to do. In the bedroom, I pulled open the curtain and looked out to Andy’s car in the neighbor’s driveway. The rain mottled its sleek surface, running onto the pavement and down the street. It shone on the bare branches of the plants still blissfully asleep. The world was weeping with me.
Now you’re no longer talkingAnd I’m no longing hearingThere’s nothing left to saySaid it anywaySaid it anyway
And I want you notI need you notI’m dying ’cause this is the saddest song I’ve got
The saddest song I’ve got

I worry. I worry for my parents. I worry for my husband. I worry for my family. I worry for my friends. I worry for my neighbors. I worry for the world. And I worry a little for myself, because I haven’t felt this fear in a very long time. I worry that this is it – the long, or maybe not-so-long trudge into old age, into obsolete madness, into days that only know loss and sadness and the memory of what once made us all so happy, the memory of what made the world so bearable. I wonder what to make of the days when that memory fades for good. 

Darling are you healingFrom all those scars appearing?And don’t it hurt a lot?Don’t know how to stopDon’t know how it stops
Now there’s no sense in seeingThe colors of the morning.Can’t hold the clouds at bayChase them all awayChase them all away

I went into the attic and started writing this post while listening to this song. Probably not the wisest thing to hear in such a mood, but sometimes you have to dive into it and feel it, however awful it might be. The only way out is usually through. 

Andy texted that another neighbor was dropping off a blueberry coffee cake so we would have breakfast in the morning. That made me cry more. The heart aches at all the hurt in the world; the heart breaks when another human tries to make it better. I thought of one friend’s answer when I once asked how she managed to not get overwhelmed and consumed by all the awfulness of the news: she said she thinks of her kids and how they are making this place better.

A 47-year-old man weeps in front of his laptop and feels absolutely ridiculous doing so, but gives into it anyway because some nights the world is just that awful. Some nights a good cry is the only thing that forces us to keep going, to put one foot in front of the other and keep going, to wipe the tears away and keep going… keep going, even when it hurts… just keep going… for all the people who can’t. 

And I’m frozen stillUnspoken stillHearts brokenRemembering something I forgotSomething I forgot

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Dazzler of the Day: Alice Oseman

The current phenomenon known as ‘Heartstopper’ originates with Dazzler of the Day Alice Oseman, who wrote the webcomic on which everything was based, and who has helmed the Netflix series as creator, writer, and executive producer. She has crafted a world of fascinating characters and stories in the young adult novels ‘Solitaire’, ‘Radio Silence’, ‘I Was Born for This’, and ‘Loveless’. She’s been nominated for the YA Book Prize, the Inky Awards, the Carnegie Medal, and the Goodreads Choice Awards. Check out Oseman’s charming website here for further brilliance. 

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A Patch of Snow on the Ground

The hazy shades of winter persist, as predicted, because in upstate New York spring is usually slow to come and then quick to pass – all hurry! hurry! quick! quick! wait! wait! stop! stop! – and then we wonder why some of us denizens are so crazed. Give us a moment to adjust! 

Normally I wouldn’t include such dour and drab photos, not without some scintillating commentary to spruce them up, but today you will have to make do with what is at hand. ‘Tis the damn season. I’ll need all the energy to gear myself up into tackling the winter mess once this snow finally departs for good. 

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Dazzler of the Day: Jessica Kirson

We need way more hilarity in this wretched period of American history, and no one is better to provide that than Jessica Kirson. With a take-no-prisoners style of hilarious attack comedy, Kirson doesn’t let her audience relax from laughing for one minute. She’s recently made a splash in TikTok and social media, and is touring the country providing some much-needed laughs at a time when most of us don’t know how badly we need it. Her acerbic brand of humor is caustically effective, finding the most vulnerable spot in our armor, piercing it with one deft jab, then ripping out the beating heart of the human experience, and giddily wringing out every last drop of hilarious blood. Maybe it just speaks more personally to me and what I find funny, but she more than deserves this Dazzler of the Day

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Power of the Pussy

Behold, the pussywillow! These furry little harbingers of spring harken to some happy childhood memories. When I see them on offer in the market, I know spring is at hand. As their common name suggests, these are a member of the willow family, with all the magical properties that tree carries. 

How the pussy willow got its name is the subject of differing stories, most of which put kittens in peril, so read about them here (there are all happy endings)

A simple vase of them is enough, though they make wonderful vertical accents in bouquets. I like to keep them to themselves, where the interesting features can be inspected without competition with more colorful scene-stealers. There will be time enough for them in the coming months – let’s begin slowly, and softly… 

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The Return of Spring, The Return of Friends

The month of March bridges the birthdays of our two dear friends JoAnn and Ali, so when they made a visit this past weekend we celebrated both with a cake and low-key celebration. Just being together with friends who go back decades is a celebration, and the older we get, the less importance we place on birthdays, and the more we put on being together. 

JoAnn texted in advance and asked if we still had snow. I had to answer int he affirmative, as I look dout into the yard and saw swatch of dirty white stuff still heaped and mounded on the garden and lawn. We would also get a spattering of snow and rain on Saturday, but our plans were solidified, and we weren’t going anywhere. 

On Friday night the gals arrived, to a light dinner of classic dips and chips – it’s been so long since we had a proper party, I put together the beloved dill dip in a bowl of rye bread and a batch of the red pepper chutney dip. A dinner of dips, reminding us of parties and past debauchery, provided moments of happy reminiscence, with the added flavor of gratitude that some of those times are behind us. 

After the first flush of happy reconnection, and gorging on all the food (Ali had provided an assortment of insanely-delicious Portuguese confections, as she always does) JoAnn and I headed off to bed while Any and Ali stayed up talking util 5:30 in the morning. We’d already decided to sleep in and indulge in puttering about the home the next day, when forecasted nastiness of wind and rain and snow would keep us homebound.

Lazily and happily sleeping in, we reconvened with a few breakfast sandwiches that I asked JoAnn to make (she does them the best) and spent the day doing nothing but talking and munching. By afternoon, we settled in for a viewing of ‘Troop Beverly Hills’ and ate popcorn and movie candy for dinner. The perfect sort of day while we waited for the season to shift closer to summer. 

It was a glorious kick-off to spring, and being around good friends is the best balm for shaking off a dreary winter. 

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#JUNGKOOKxCALVINKLEIN

A member of BTS named Jung Kook is the rumored face and body of a new Calvin Klein collaboration. Once upon a time, this site would have been entirely on top of this and I’d have been able to give you the complete run-down on all involved parties and appendages. As it stands now, I know nothing about what’s happening from either end of this pairing. But hey, here is Jung Kook in his Calvins, not unlike Shawn Mendes and Nick Jonas and Maluma.

#JUNGKOOKxCALVINKLEIN

 

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