After-the-Grammy Recap

This was my utterly ridiculous Grammys-watching outfit, inspired by a little Madonna lace and rosaries, and Tom Ford shades. I’m too old to know half the performers these days, but it’s fun to watch the red carpet. On with the last week before I start planning my Oscars ensemble…

The week started by saying goodbye: the loss of a dear family friend.

Comfort is a cardinal.

A family project

The moon brings out a little madness in all of us.

A new fragrance to revive the winter

A Valentine kiss from the Beekman Boys. 

A hunk that spans the Winter and Summer Olympics: Pita Taufatofua

Cocktail hour with Lawrence Welk.

My hints on mastering your own social media

Hints of spring found at the market. 

Hunks of the Day included Eric Radford, Tim Chase, John Coughlin, and Nick Cunningham

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Praying for Spring

I crashed early this year. Usually, I can make it to at least February before feeling the drudge of winter. This weekend, I felt it. Too soon. Too early. There is too much more to go. The only thing that saved me was a visit to the market, where I stumbled unexpectedly upon a few classic spring blooms. Leaning into the hyacinths and daffodils, I breathed in the sweet scent of spring, a couple of months early, and just int he nick of time. 

I was talking to Kira last time I was in Boston and proposing a possible visit to the New England Flower Show (if such a thing still happens). This is the sort of thing that gets us through the winter. 

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Social Media Mastery 101

Certain people in certain circles have given me more credit than I probably deserve as far as social media mastery goes. However, after doing this for a number of years, and amassing a relatively decent following on various social media sites, it may be true that I have a few pointers to help some people out. This won’t offer an instant, magical solution for gaining more followers on FaceBook or Tweeter or Instagram, but it offers some insight into what makes social media enjoyable for me, and how I inadvertently built a sizable group of online friends. Most of this is geared toward Twitter and Instagram; FaceBook has been boring me to tears lately.

One of the main things to remember is that your social media presence is only going to be as good as what you put into it. Many people get discouraged early on because they expect an immediate multitude of followers, and when nothing happens they feel isolated and uninspired. If you’re looking to be made happy or whole by social media, don’t even bother beginning. This is not the place for finding self-worth.

It is, however, a place to engage and interact, and those are the two most important things you can do on social media. The name says it all: social. This is not the time to be a wallflower. Follow people- those you admire, those who make you laugh, and all those whom you actually know. Retweet, share, and comment on those posts that you enjoy. Be somewhat selective, but be interested and engaged in everything when you’re online.

Be patient. Followers don’t follow overnight. Build a rapport with people you know. Reveal your obsessions and cull interaction from those who share the same interests and passions. Tweet to your idols – not incessantly, just when it’s important. Be genuine and authentic. You can’t send the same ‘personal’ tweet out to a hundred different people and expect it to mean something.

Be judicious and careful with hash-tagging. We live in a #HashtagWorld, filled with #HashtagHappy posts. The trick is to find a balance. (These can also act as talismans to ward off trolls. When my Twitter account was being deluged by racist and homophobic Trumpsters, I started using #ImpeachTrump and they largely went away. Russian bots seem to know that engaging with that hash-tag (or #TrumpRussia for example) is actually giving it more power by replying, and that will only make Voldemort Trump angry).

Use photos to your advantage. Get creative. Stand out. Re-think standard poses and angles and cropping options. Indulge in the occasional avant-garde foray. Use good lighting and don’t ever make a duck face. (Duck faces are for people who go on to abuse their Uber drivers with entitled cry-baby behavior, only to have it filmed and lose their jobs over it later.) Bonus points if you avoid posing in a mirror (that’s amateur hour). Exposing a selfie stick is also cheesy as Patti Labelle’s Over the Rainbow Mac-and-Cheese, and she uses a ton of Velveeta.

I’m not going to lie: shirtless and skin-heavy shots rack up the likes and follows because sex sells. That’s how some otherwise bland people (guilty) get a lot of followers (people are thirsty!) but there’s got to be something to keep them following you.

Post consistently. You need not be completely consistent in content, as a little variation keeps things interesting, but if you are serious about gaining followers and carving a presence online, you’ve got to be present. A few well-thought-out tweets or photos a day are ample. If you disappear for weeks at a time without explanation, people will leave. That’s the nature of the beast. The online world is more fickle than any other. An instant is a lifetime, and no one waits very long no matter how good your output might be. That said, the other extreme – too much posting – can be just as repellent. There are some who ascribe to the adage that one can never post too much. I disagree, at least if you want to build a quality social circle. A little bit of absence makes the heart grow fonder. There’s no sure-fire calculation on the balance – it’s whatever works best for you.

Proofread what you are posting. Twice. I can’t tell you the number of otherwise witty and wonderful posts I’ve not retweeted or shared due to a spelling or grammatical error. It takes all the power out of whatever the message might have been. Serious comments look stupid. Funny responses lose their humor. Touching words sound silly. All because you were to quick or lazy too sea that your posting had errors. See what I peen? The degradation of such things matters. Push against it and rise above. People will take you more seriously.

That said, don’t take any of this too seriously. Social media should be fun and enjoyable. This is not where you should get your hard news, even if it offers a platform for sharing such items. This is not where you should air personal and private family grievances. This is not where you should engage in couples counseling for the world to see. Don’t get me wrong, we will watch and you will get noticed, but we will also take screenshots and so will the person with whom you are arguing.

Finally, don’t forget that your real life exists off the phone and computer. A simple hug in person is worth more than a billion followers who ‘like’ something you posted. All the online love in the world cannot compare to the real thing, and once you realize that, you’ve already discovered the biggest secret to social media. Oh, and don’t forget to follow @alanilagan on Twitter and Instagram. It will be the best thing you ever did. (Did I mention to ignore all hype and hoopla by shameless bloggers?)

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Cocktail Hour with Lawrence Welk

When I was a kid, my family used to watch ‘The Lawrence Welk Show’ religiously. It was safe family fare (most television in the early 80’s was, for that matter, but my parents were so old-school they considered ‘The Facts of Life’ way too dirty for us to watch). We won’t mention what they put on television today. Back then Mr. Welk provided a super-safe-for-work alternative, and I ate it up. All those chiffon gowns and smiling blonde gentlemen… it was heaven. 

These days if I ever catch Lawrence Welk on PBS I pause and take a moment to enjoy the earnest corniness of the whole thing. It another era, and another world. Surely it wasn’t as rosy and perfect as they made it out to be, but we could always pretend. On this evening, I even found a Lawrence Welk cocktail, originated by The John Dory Oyster Bar in New York. It’s tequila-based, which at first seemed at odds with Lawrence Welk. I would’ve expected something on the champagne side of things, or whiskey or gin at least, but this one has Aperol in it, so I gave it a whirl and was not disappointed. The lime and Aperol combo is said to conjure a grapefruit in the winter. No time like the present for that. 

The John Dory’s Lawrence Welk Cocktail

  • Ice
  • 1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice
  • Dash Regans’ orange bitters
  • 3/4 ounce Aperol
  • 3/4 ounce Dolin Sweet Vermouth
  • 1 1/2 ounces blanco tequila

Combine ingredients in cocktail shaker, shake it up, and strain into cocktail glass. (I garnished with a grapefruit twist to accentuate the intended effect.)

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Olympic Rebirth: Pita Taufatofua

When last we saw Pita Taufatofua, he was oiled-up and shirtless at the Summer Olympics, so the fact that he just made it into the Winter Olympics is kind of a miracle. He’ll be way more covered up than he was when the weather was warmer, and he shirtlessly waved his country’s flag at the Olympic ceremonies. He worked his ass off to make the switch from taekwondo to cross-country skiing, and my hat goes off to anyone willing to step outside of the boxes we want everyone to stay in. Good luck, Pita!

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Valentine Kisses from the Beekman Boys

Those busy Beekman Boys are giving us a treat for Valentine’s Day by releasing several beautiful cards for you to print out for anyone who deserves a little extra love in next month’s high holiday. Check out their page of cards here, and pick your favorite to print out.

It’s rare to get something for nothing these days, but Brent and Josh seem to know that giving gleans its own rewards. There is beauty in that, and a generosity that we need now more than ever. Thanks boys!

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The Voyage of Hermès

Tom Ford gets all the flashy olfactory glory in these parts, but his scents aren’t always the most user-friendly. That’s partly why I like them. They are not meant for everyday use (nor are their price points). For everyday office wear, I prefer something softer and more subtle, something less garish and out-there. That something should retain an elegance and refinement as befits a person struggling to maintain some sort of nobility and style in a world of Axe body spray and Cool Water.

The House of Hermès had a genius run when it employed Jean-Claude Ellena as its fragrance-maker. Mssr. Ellena crafted the exquisite ‘L’Eau d’Hiver’ which is an understated classic for Frederic Malle. Yet it was his work for Hermès that truly struck a chord with me. Under his tenure they produced some wonderful scents, such as the gorgeous Jardin series featuring garden-inspired fragrances from around the world. I recently discovered that he was also the person behind my latest acquisition – Voyage d’Hermès.

In the past few years, on the hunt for the ever-elusive niche scent that no one else around me had, I’ve veered into pricey territory, giving Andy and my parents undue financial stress when it came to Christmas and birthdays. Along with those heftier price tags came heftier fragrances – if you’re going to drop $310 on a small bottle of Eau de parfum, it damn well better project, slaying with sillage and leaving no doubt who was coming and going. That is all very well for special events and memory-making moments. For the long stretches of in-between time, however, someone like Mssr. Ellena handily beats the heavy hand of Tom Ford. Perfect for the office or family gathering where one wants to be distinguished but not glaring, Voyage d’Hermès is a quietly sophisticated addition to the fragrance arsenal.

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Luna Madness

Next week a crazy super blood moon is set to rise, somewhere around January 31, and I’m not sure we can handle it. As little faith as I put in such astrological matters, there’s always been something believable about the moon and the way it fosters brief moments of lunacy. When it gets full, insane things seem to happen, especially if you’re unaware of its pull. During such times I find it best to lay low, stay subdued, and refrain from causing a commotion. Maybe it’s all bullshit, but it can’t hurt to take a couple of preemptive precautions, and in the middle of winter it’s good to be quiet and still regardless of the reason.

Instead of putting on a show, I’ll stand back and watch it rise. The moon is magnificent and magical, as you can see here as it hovers over Albany in these early-morning photos. It has been the guide and the ruin of certain men and women, the conjuror of all sorts of happy and sorrowful madness, and the watcher in the night. It peeks, preens and poses in all kinds of delightful variety. Shy and remote some nights, boldly burning red and pink on others. It dances or demurs, depending on the mood and the atmosphere. Most of all, it demands notice as it makes its way across the sky.

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Family & Sealys

When there’s a lull or silence in the background noise after kids leave the dinner table, it’s usually time to check on them to see what they’re trying to hide. On a recent evening after dinner at my parents’ home, that silence prompted me to head into the kitchen and see what was up. I was immediately shooed back out and told not to look. That’s not the usual way with these kids (as I’d witnessed earlier when I passed Emi gleefully sitting on the toilet with the bathroom door wide open to the world. She had waved.) This time it was Noah, blocking whatever project he was working on, insisting on me not looking.

Whenever I see my niece or nephew working on something creative, I’m quick to encourage, and then let it happen. In this case, we were all called into the kitchen about fifteen minutes later, when he revealed what he had spelled out in pipe-cleaners: EMI, NOAH, PAUL and SEALYS. (The sealys are their pet stuffed seals.) It was quite the effort and presentation, and I let him know that it was impressive. All such endeavors deserve a moment of recognition.

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Scarlet Perched

Outside the bedroom, a flash of red alighted in the Wolf’s Eye dogwood tree. In its upward-reaching branches, an old bird’s nest from the summer was still intact, nestled snugly in the crux of the three wooden spokes. Two cardinals perched in the mottled architectural flourishes of the little tree. The pair of them – one vibrant and crimson, the other more muted in softer hues of mauve and gray – were beautiful against the dull shades of winter. Both were a sight to behold. They chirped to one another while the brighter of the two fussed with the old nest. I didn’t think birds re-used the nests of other birds, but what do I know? It makes sense, I guess, particularly if one has proven able to withstand the whipping winds of this blustery year and hasn’t been ripped to the ground. The cardinals didn’t seem to be looking to move in completely, just visiting and inspecting.

Of course, that’s what Andy and I were doing when we ended up getting our home almost 15 years ago. I hope these birds are half as lucky.

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Where One Road Ends…

We first met him at our wedding party seven long years ago. On a day so filled with the love of our family and friends, it was a most auspicious moment to meet the gentleman that our Aunt Elaine had just started seeing. Introducing someone new isn’t always easy, especially to family, but Tony was instantly likable, and his willingness to try new things and go with the flow made it easy to see why Elaine was so enamored of him. The feeling was absolutely mutual, and he doted on her in surprisingly delightful ways. Many men are not entirely comfortable showing such fondness and adoration so openly and honestly. Tony wore his heart on his sleeve where Elaine was concerned, and we watched their relationship bloom and grow with a warmth that spilled over to the rest of us.

He had an ever-present smile with just the slightest hint of mischief to it, and twinkling eyes that conveyed kindness and a gameness for anything. He and Elaine would simply head out for a drive and let the roads take them where they were meant to go for the day. Without end or goal in sight, they’d already found their purpose in each other’s company. We could all learn something from that.

Along with his smile, he had a readiness to laugh at the slightest provocation, and one of the greatest things to witness was when he’d find something amusing, then throw his head back with a hearty laugh. He was always a fun guest to have at summer gatherings by the pool or at cozy winter dinners before the call of Florida arrived. He and Elaine joined our family in Ogunquit several times in Octobers past, when fall was at its height and winter loomed in the not-so-distant future. His active life was exemplified by his love of riding his bike. He would ride for hours, and refused to be stopped by the dip in weather. He went to Florida for the winters where, he could keep riding year-round.

When he was first diagnosed with cancer several years ago, he fought and beat it back with his typical gusto and verve. He wasn’t quite done with his journey, and we weren’t ready to let him go. When it came back in more vicious form, he fought again, but it was too much for him. Losing his ability to go on his beloved bike rides must have hurt. He faded a little more every time we saw him, but still there were glimpses of the sparkle that we first saw on that summer night so many years ago.

Though we lost him last weekend, we have a treasure trove of memories that keep him in our lives. Kindness is a lost art – and Tony had always been kind. The world needs more of that. For now, there is only the profound sadness of loss, and the ache that comes with the realization that his kindness, and the joy he brought to wherever he was, will always be missing.

Yet I have a feeling that Tony would not want anyone to wallow for long. Somewhere, he is back on that bike, pedaling to his next adventure, a beautiful breeze rushing by and that smile breaking across his face. The end of his road here is sorrowful for the rest of us, but I think Tony was someone who would not want to look back. That doesn’t mean we won’t miss him a lot.

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A Recap That Won’t Be Shut Down

The government may be having its #TrumpShutdown as we speak, but this blog keeps right on plugging. No one gets paid for it either, unlike the Senate and House of Reps (who continue to draw a salary). Anyway, on with the previous week’s recap before I return on Thursday. Maybe the government will be up and running by then… 

The most insidious kind of telemarketers won’t stop calling me. 

Celebrating my mother’s birthday

A very happy retail experience

The light of winter

Hero and inspiration: a profile of writer Kevin Sessums

A review of Tom Ford’s ‘Fucking Fabulous’ Private Blend

“Rudeness is merely the expression of fear. People fear they won’t get what they want. The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved and they will open up like a flower.” ~ ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’

A weekend in Boston is remembered with typical fondness

A winter lullaby, sans music

Monday morning is done

The Winter Olympics are in the air as Hunks of the Day included Chris Fogt, Jay Cutler, Nathan Chen, and Adam Rippon.

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The Dawn of a New Week

The earth doesn’t much care whether it’s Monday or Saturday morning, it’s still going to turn and give us each a day in the sun. It may obscure with clouds or storms, but there will be enough light to see and show us around, until it spins us into darkness for another night. There’s a comfort in the consistency, and strangely enough there is even comfort to be found in a Monday morning.

I’m not talking about the first second you wake to a screeching alarm. Or even the third time you awake after pressing the snooze button. But when you stumble into the kitchen to get your cup of coffee or tea, and the light is just beginning to show, and there is silence and peace and stillness, there is a comfort in that. In the moments before the week starts up, in the quiet aftermath of the weekend, there is a pause of solemnity. Sometimes a minute or two is enough for meditation. Anything to get you through the day.

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Winter Cookie Lullaby

The crows flew in the face of the sunrise, not giving a shit, save for whatever they dropped on the sidewalks below. The most insignificant bird, and the wisp of its fleeting silhouette, still has the power to block out the whole sun if the angles and the timing are just right. From our self-serving vantage point, we could hold the sun and the moon in our fingertips; if we were patient enough we could drag them across the sky and bury them again before morning.

In between the riotous winter storms and the spells of cold there is quiet in this season, and there is brutality and starkness in the silence. It stretches and expands into dry, gray nothingness, like shadow and salt and a limitless abyss. Winter’s silence is insidious. Its ice takes hold in beautiful crystalline form, cradling one in exquisite splendor, a cloak of feathery crystal wings – and before you realize what has happened you are frozen in place, unable to blink for the immobile water glazing over your eyes.

These are dark thoughts, not fit for the light of a day, no matter how stormy. Let us move onto something happier, even if the wind wants to push us back.

Oh the bluster of a day! Winnie-the-Pooh assembled a motley crew of friends and forest co-habitants, but for the most part he enjoyed his solitude, content to have a pot of honey as his only companion for the duration of a winter. Still, his heart did well to see the likes of Piglet and Eeyore and even Tigger. Especially on particularly blustery days, when the wind howled and icicles formed. On those days, I indulge in a cookie. A cup of hot chocolate. A book. Or a blog.

You are welcome to join me, and we can go through the winter together. ‘It’s so much friendlier with two.’

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Moments in Boston

Even when the events of a weekend blur together, there are moments that rise above the rest – the ones that get remembered on the Monday morning when you’re sad that it all had to end. These are just a couple of the favorite ones we had last weekend in Boston, little jewels encrusted on the time-clock of life, when we’d managed to still its ticking hand.

The first was a stop at the Avery Bar in the Ritz Carlton. JoAnn and I had been here for a cocktail on a winter night a few years ago, so I knew there was a cozy fire inside. Though technically the Avery wasn’t set to open for a few hours, the super-friendly gentleman standing at the front desk said we could grab a drink at the adjoining Artisan Bar and bring it back to the fire place area. We really just wanted to be close to the fire, so we thanked him profusely and followed through with the recommendation.

I’ve spent some of my happiest times sitting idly in a hotel bar, and this one proved no different. We dropped our things and leaned back into a leather couch. The fire flickered in front of us, and the place was gloriously empty. When the world pauses… that is the time I like best. What happens afterwards gets swept away in the usual maelstrom of motion and activity that typically characterizes a quick weekend in Boston.

The other moment that came to mind as I recollected highpoints from the visit was a much simpler one that happened on a Sunday morning. Usually we are out and about early enough to avoid any brunch lines. On this day it was too cold to find the energy to move. The sun was streaming in so gorgeously and everything was looking especially clean after clearing out the holiday decorations that I didn’t want to leave. We pulled a blanket on and watched the rest of ‘Heathers’ on TV.

The ZZ plant arched happily in the sunlight. A pile of folded towels stood neatly on a shelf. The sun crept slowly along the shiny floorboards. In the corner, a Muji air diffuser dispersed a small plume of fragrant water vapor: their ‘Winter Bouquet’ edition, weighted predominantly with the slumber-inducing scent of lavender. It was certainly seeing us through the winter.

Sometimes you don’t need to travel further than your own bed to find what you’re looking for.

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