“No shaking. Shaking is just for when you finish in the men’s room.”
It may not sound like it at first reading, but that quote is actually about how to properly eat sushi. In this specific reference, it’s regarding shaking off a little bit of soy sauce from the fish: lesson learned is that you don’t shake it. But try telling that to my booty.
My friends Ann and JoAnn are due to visit us this weekend, and throughout the decades I’ve known them they have fueled whatever fabulousness I’ve ever been able to conjure. They inspire and support me in ways that have been life-saving on certain days, and life-affirming every day. Lately, they’ve forged their own friendship, and this will mark their first in-person meeting. No stranger to loss, they seem to have found comfort in being such kindred spirits, and I’m so happy to host them. It’s enough to get me (back) into black lace and a fedora, and nothing much does that these days.
Raised in the 80’s, we are taking our dearly beloved Prince and making this a Purple Reign weekend, with all the 80’s bops one would expect from the likes of Madonna, Whitney, Belinda Carlisle, Boy George, Bon Jovi, et. al. Hats and black lace are my visual nod to that formative time period, when Ann and Josie would gaze upon their Debbie Gibson posters and all felt right with the world.
We will get a little deeper on friendship and the passing of years, but for now let’s just celebrate and inhabit the joy that a promising weekend beholds. Everybody’s worked toward the weekend, and it’s finally here! Everything will work out just fine!
More than any other segment in ‘The Wizard of Oz’ – more than the sassy quips of Glinda or the wonderful Wicked Witch of the West’s glorious cackle, even more than those fabulous ruby slippers – it was the transition from the sepia world of Kansas to the color-saturated world of Oz that always thrilled me the most. It was that magical space of a doorway or portal to another place, the way every exit, and entrance, marked a moment to manifest a new beginning, that spoke to me even as a child. Starting over again is one of the hard-learned lessons of life, one that I’m still struggling to fully understand. Years ago, that used to scare me – now it gives me a little thrill, the same sort of excitement that I feel when Dorothy opens that drab door and reveals a world of vibrant color.
It’s the feeling when winter shifts incontrovertibly to spring, or when the sun, dampened by an eclipse, reappears in rekindled splendor.
Defying the challenging weather we’ve had this spring, Andy practically willed the pool open this week. We both needed to see the pretty blue water instead of an algae-coated pool cover; our summer pool season is short enough – whatever it takes to elongate that is a good thing. While no one is going swimming anytime soon (at last check water was a crisp 50 degrees Fahrenheit) it’s a happy visage now that the cover is off. Echoing the elusive blue sky that this season has only deigned to show us in short, quick bursts, the water shimmers and promises us sunnier summer days ahead. For now, we wait and watch, and slowly bring the gardens and the backyard back to life.
He’s got a body made for far more than a podcast, but thankfully there’s instagram to round out the views of John Arthur Hill, our Dazzler of the Day. Hill has made the rounds of several musicals over the years, recorded more than a few songs, and currently has his own SiriusXM show ‘The News with John Hill’. He also co-hosts ‘Andy Cohen Live‘ and has been seen behind the bar (and behind the scenes in a more professional capacity) at ‘Watch What Happens Live’. Check out his link tree here for all that’s on his horizon, including some legendary live performances coming up.
How do pencil erasers work? Such simple magic has always thrilled me.
It’s been a while since we’ve had a blue sky. All these days of gray overcast skies have left me restless and agitated, especially with so much outside work still be done. Mercury is in retrograde motion and nothing feels quite right. My mind is all over the place… difficult to focus. Wednesday posts are like that.
Who new that Leroy Anderson wrote more than Christmas music? Listen below:
The one constant is a daily meditation that grounds me for twenty minutes, quite literally, as I sink into the floor of the living room. Feeling the points where my body touches, anything to find a focus and stop the mind from spinning its destructive yarns. Outside, the sky spins too, the clouds moving like thoughts.
A sunny Tuesday afternoon, unremarkable for all but its simply spring beauty, just like these guys, passes like a swiftly-moving cloud. Prettiness is too often transitory, but pictures are forever. Here are a few gents who have been featured here before – a little spring collection of shirtless male celebrities to tickle your visual fancy.
We begin with Ricky Martin, bereft of tattoos for his acting role in ‘Palm Royale’, and here again in black briefs. What’s simple is true. Mr. Martin has been here before in dazzling, almost-naked form.
Any man with the confidence to pull off nail polish in any collegiate sport scene deserves all the accolades, and that’s why Jared McCain was featured in this post.
International football has brought Son Heung-Min to the world stage, and Suzie brought him to my attention during an ice storm, with a detour through Calvin Klein territory.
Ronan Farrow recently made a splash here in a sheer suit, earning him a Dazzler of the Day crowning – and here he is out of the jacket.
Last guy of the day, here’s Luke Evans, who just celebrated his birthday this week. He’s getting closer to his birthday suit here, and totally starkers in this post.
Sometimes the thought is enough when faced with the prospect of the aftermath.
Tom Ford, in a rare failure, once tried to capture the elusive enchantment of the almost-tangy delicate perfume of the jonquil in one of the fragrances from his garden collection, ‘Jonquille de Nuit’. I didn’t very much like any of that ill-fated line, not even ‘Cafe Rose’ which is the sole survivor of the original effort, but I admired the attempt at conjuring the essence of Narcissus. (Ford would rebound gloriously in the floral realm with his Rose Garden collection, right on the cusp of when roses were everywhere.)
This week, the real-life jonquils have come into bloom, defying the wind and rain we’ve had of late and bravely putting on their little show. As much as I’ve been gardening over the last forty years, Narcissus have not fared as well under my hands as other more difficult-to-grow specimens have. Is there irony or poetic justice in that? Or maybe just a cruel trick of the universe, a dig at my vanity – always more perceived than real – a prettiness just out of reach. Tom Ford failed at capturing the magic of their perfume; I fail at their cultivation, easy though it is rumored to be.
Leaning down, near the ground and beside the brilliant orange trumpet, I breathe in its faint perfume – and it is perhaps the freshest thing the garden will bring us this season. It would be impossible to capture or replicate such a fragrance. Maybe Ford knew that, and there’s something heartbreaking in his making the attempt. In the same way I will plant more Narcissus bulbs in the fall. We all endeavor to make more beauty.
If you’re familiar to these parts, you know I thrill at being introduced to people who dazzle in all sorts of ways, and if they have a bio that speaks to such wonder, all the better. Case in point is our Dazzler of the Day, Cody Belew, who has a wonderful description of his accomplishments. See that below and witness more of his magic at his website here.
Singer/songwriter CODY BELEW has a love of the South that is in his blood. Reflecting on his upbringing in rural Beebe, Arkansas, what sticks with him most is the one-room church where he learned to sing when he was just a toddler. It’s these soulful roots that are reflected in his music which combines authentic storytelling with powerful vocals that take you to the heart of his experience. Blending raw emotion with Southern stomp, Cody’s material moves far beyond his contemporaries with a unique point of view on faith and love that he approaches with fearless honesty. Cody made his way to Nashville to pursue a music career, where he made ends meet working with fashion, furniture restoration, and music. It wasn’t long before his talents were recognized, earning him an appearance on NBC’s THE VOICE. After finishing the show as a Top 8 finalist, Cody was asked to open for Delta Rae, Florida Georgia Line, Rascal Flatts, and more, and started writing with GRAMMY Award-winning Deana Carter and Mike Reid, ACM Award winner Tia Sellers, and ascending recording artists like Hailey Whitters, Rick Brantley, and Waylon Payne.
Assembling a mix of candid originals and well-loved classics by artists who inspired him, Cody released his self-titled debut EP in early 2022. The lead single, “Rodeo,” premiered in Times Square and quickly found regular rotation on CMT. His take on the Dolly Parton classic “Here You Come Again” was a welcome reinvention, with Robert Oermann from Music Row Magazine saying “he completely reinterprets this 1977 Dolly hit, transforming it from a bouncy ditty into a cry of romantic anguish. His only accompaniment is a pianist, but his dramatic performance is so gripping that it needs nothing else.” Last year also had him reimagining the Brooks & Dunn classic “Neon Moon” with GRAMMY Award-winning producer Dave Aude. The disco-tinged cover, which recently hit the one million streams mark on Spotify, continues to top a variety of popular playlists.
Belew kicked off 2023 as a member of CMT’s coveted “Listen Up” program, which counts Kacey Musgraves, Kelsea Ballerini, Thomas Rhett, and Maren Morris among its alums. A long-time Nashville resident, Cody recently completed a yearlong, sold-out residency at the city’s famed Lipstick Lounge and is playing a slew of upcoming shows for a fan base he’s built with his impassioned vocals, deft songwriting, and undeniable stage presence. Belew is currently working on his full-length debut, in which he’ll traverse between his deep-seated love of Southern music and his obligation to activism.
Andy has come around to the magic and the majesty of matcha, so I dipped into his new bag of green glory and made a cup of it to kick off this work-week. It’s Monday morning, which means it’s time for the weekly blog recap. You know how we roll, and if you don’t, welcome! Pull up a pillow and prepare to be soundly put to sleep…
Nothing beats a cock post to start off a week of blogging, am I right?
The Wonky and the Wayward (because this sure as shit ain’t ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’ or even ‘The Young and The Restless’).
A Mexican salad recipe off the cuff and for posterity.
A day I’d been dreading for years arrived, and it was time.
Felled, frail, and fighting for the future.
Yeah, I’d likely drop my dick right now if it wasn’t attached to my body.
Cleaning up my cologne cabinet was a wonderful trip down memory lane.
There may not be crying in baseball, but there was certainly crying at Trader Joe’s.
Booty-shot clickbait (forewarned is fair-warned, as they told us in the retail biz).
Everyone, and everything, wanted to hide from the wind and rain this week.
First-world problems, because until we move to a third-world country, these are the problems we are going to have.
Dazzlers of the Day included Michelle Visage, Ronan Farrow and Jacob Tomsky.
Whenever I think that I’ve grown too old for music to touch me in the magical, primal, soul-wrenching way it did in my teen years, I’ll happen upon something like the new Cigarettes After Sex song, ‘Tejano Blue’ and suddenly the world feels fresh and exhilarating and gorgeously terrifying in the best way. Many a ‘Cigarettes After Sex’ song has had a similar effect, from the very first time I heard ‘Apocalypse‘ to the latest peek at their upcoming ‘X’s’ album. Drummer Jacob Tomsky is largely the reason I became aware of them, as I was a huge fan of his ‘Heads in Beds’ book; when I discovered he played for the band, I gave them a listen and music was once again that thing that gave me inspiration and hope in a world, and an age bracket, where those things were largely gone.
Way back then, the band wasn’t as big as it is now (they are set to play the TD Garden and Madison Square Garden on their forthcoming X’s Tour) and Jacob was kind enough to invite a swooning fanboy like myself to meet him backstage before one of those early Boston shows. Suzie joined me and we fanned out like we were teenagers again – the best thing music can bring out in anyone.
Headed by Greg Gonzalez, Cigarettes After Sex often sounds like it could be the love-child of Angelo Badalamenti and the ‘Laid’ album by James – two of my very favorite things in the whole world. And while this sort of exquisite, dreamy music doesn’t seem to rely on the drum work to make its statement, it requires the sort of consistent precision and controlled innate rhythm to potently cast its hypnotic spell. Credit Tomsky with the latter, and you have one of the many reasons he is our Dazzler of the Day.
A year or so ago, my niece Emi, by then already a teenager herself, marveled at the fact that I knew about the new favorite band she was listening to: Cigarettes After Sex. Happy to pass the torch of musical fandom to someone who shares a special and, pardon the hubris, spectacular taste in music, I shared my history of loving the band, and how one day I got to meet them before one of their early shows – and how they were just as cool as you’d want them to be. She’s going to see them in New York on their MSG date, while I’m looking into seeing them in Boston again. The world is growing up, the world is growing darker, and the world is growing older, but through it all the good music will keep us going. Thanks to Jacob Tomsky for reminding me of that.
With all of our technological innovations and wizardry, why am I still waging war with these wretched price stickers on items from Marshalls and TJ Maxx? Tell me why.
When the jonquils and other spring bulbs emerge from the muddy spring ground, and raindrops splash and sputter the dirt onto their pristine petals, nothing stays pristine for long. Spring is messy, as seen on this very first Narcissus bloom of the year. Speckled with bits of dirt and drops of rain, it screams spring in every way, holding onto a bit of winter’s discontent, ready to shake it entirely off with an ironic burst of wind.
For the past four days, the weather has been wild, even for spring. These blooms turn their faces from the wind and the rain, shyly hiding their prettiness, unbothered by whatever life-giving muck splashes up onto their beauty. Flowers, strangely enough, carry no such vanity.
The lessons of the garden are infinite.
