Misty Water-colored Memories

Having recently declared my non-fandom of Barbra Streisand, I’ll backtrack a bit to give it up for this song from ‘The Way We Were.’ It inspires a snowy memory, a warm and happy memory, a memory of solitude tinged with family ghosts…

It was a night in January. My parents were out of town, so I stopped by Amsterdam to see my brother (who then lived a few blocks away) and to check on the house. We would do similar nights in the future, but for now I was alone in the house in which I grew up.

As evening fell, ghosts from the past entered timidly, whispering friendly words of forgotten scenes – those departed family members who stayed with me through the years, whenever things got quiet, whenever the world let up on me, and sometimes when it felt like everything was crashing down. On this night, it was peaceful and still. A thin layer of snow fell from the sky as I turned on the lights in my parents’ bedroom and searched for something comforting on the television. A Barbra Streisand film – ‘The Way We Were’ – had just begun, so I let it play for a while, as the saccharine melody of Marvin Hamlisch filled the empty room.

In a large dark house, even if you grew up within, it’s easy to get spooked. The wind can make things creak, the floor can make things moan, and if you’re not careful your head has suddenly wrapped itself in terrors that would be unthinkable in the light of day. Thankfully, that didn’t happen on this night. I had the silly curls and serious nails of Ms. Streisand to take my mind off other frights.

Memories,
Light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories
Of the way we were
Scattered pictures,
Of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another
For the way we were.

I watched the unlikely love story between Streisand and a very youthful Robert Redford, looking golden and in his prime, and I was drawn in as the night progressed. It wasn’t what I expected – it was actually much more enjoyable – and I settled onto the bed from which I used to watch ‘Santa Barbara’ if I could get home from school in time.

Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Or has time re-written every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?

You can never go back. No matter how wonderful or awful it was. All we can do is move forward, keep going, keep trying to be better. Streisand’s Katie Morosky fought for the world to be a better place. Redford’s Hubbell did it in his own way too. I don’t quite have that drive, or that star power. What started out as a comfort left me feeling deflated, as if every endeavor on my plate was an exercise in futility, in simply stalling, or trying to recapture days that were more fun, more vibrant, more alive. Time marched on, leaving the good memories dusty and forlorn.

Memories, may be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget
So it’s the laughter
We will remember
Whenever we remember…
The way we were…
The way we were.
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Let It Snow! Let It Blow! The Holiday Card 2014

“And the mist of snow, as he had foreseen, was still on it – a ghost of snow falling in the bright sunlight, softly and steadily floating and turning and pausing, soundlessly meeting the snow that covered, as with a transparent mirage, the bare bright cobbles. He loved it – he stood still and loved it. Its beauty was paralyzing – beyond all words, all experience, all dream. No fairy-story he had ever read could be compared with it – none had ever given him this extraordinary combination of ethereal loveliness with a something else, unnameable, which was just faintly and deliciously terrifying.” ~ Conrad Aiken, “Silent Snow, Secret Snow”

This year’s holiday card takes its theme from my hair: white. Blow and go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. That’s right, I’ve gone all blustery and Whitney on you, but for theatrical purposes only. (I made an alibi video of how the card was created in case Andy decided to press any sort of charges on the drug cartel in his basement. Let’s just say Arm & Hammer was the sole supplier for all the supposed fun.)

This sets the stage for next year’s tour, so if you don’t like what you see here, come back at some point in 2016 because it’s only going to get rockier. Sometimes you have to go dark to see the light. Happy Holidays!!!

“Just why it should have happened, or why it should have happened just when it did, he could not, of course, possibly have said; nor perhaps could it even have occurred to him to ask. The thing was above all a secret, something to be preciously concealed from Mother and Father; and to that very fact it owed an enormous part of its deliciousness. It was like a peculiarly beautiful trinket to be carried unmentioned in one’s trouser-pocket – a rare stamp, an old coin, a few tiny gold links found trodden out of shape on the path in the park, a pebble of carnelian, a sea shell distinguishable from all others by an unusual spot or stripe-and, as if it were anyone of these, he carried around with him everywhere a warm and persistent and increasingly beautiful sense of possession. Nor was it only a sense of possession – it was also a sense of protection. It was as if, in some delightful way, his secret gave him a fortress, a wall behind which he could retreat into heavenly seclusion.” ~ Conrad Aiken, “Silent Snow, Secret Snow”

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The Countdown Begins… Tonight’s the Night

This evening will mark the Holiday Card 2014 Reveal on this very site, so come back later for all the wider wonder. In the meantime, a brief look back at some notable cards that came before. The very first card I ever sent out was done way back in 1995, and it had a theme I returned to time and time again: S&M. It doesn’t stand for Santa and Magic, but I love a light S&M scene for the holidays. Who doesn’t?

Of course, variety is the spice of life, so every few years I liked to change it up, as seen in the featured photo here, from 2004’s chilly holiday shot, wherein I sprayed my hair in ice queen style. That sort of simplicity has gone by the wayside in recent years, but it will return one day because it’s, well, simple. For 2005 and 2007, seen below, there were more cheeky holiday hellos, the first of which was the accessory-rich mirrored jock-shot that not everyone loved, while the latter Santa-gone-bad was a favorite (though not one of mine – it’s not easy to smoke and drink beside a dumpster on a freezing night while your husband laughs at you).

Speaking of husbands, the only card that’s ever featured Andy was from 2010 – the year of our wedding – in which we posed around the pool in our wedding garb. This is a sentimental favorite for obvious reasons, and the first time I ever shared billing with another person.

That’s right, the boy has grown up and learned to share, as proven in 2011’s family-friendly fare, where I pulled a wagon with my niece and nephew.

Lest anyone think I was going in a family direction, 2012 marked a return to the tasteless and racy, as things got bloody and violent. I happened to love this little Santa’s massacre night, front and back.

Last year I sent out the easiest-ever holiday card: a picture of me and my brother from our childhood. It was a little sweeter than a bloody organ.

Which sets the stage for a return to something more… edgy. And snowy. And blowy… Get ready for the white stuff. Tonight’s the night.

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The Silent & The Secret, Before the Snow

A preamble to tomorrow’s Holiday Card reveal – a selection from Conrad Aiken’s “Silent Snow, Secret Snow” which goes with the theme quite beautifully:

It was gentler here, softer, its seethe the quietest of whispers, as if, in deference to a drawing room, it had quite deliberately put on its ‘manners’; it kept itself out of sight, obliterated itself, but distinctly with an air of saying, ‘Ah, but just wait! Wait till we are alone together! Then I will begin to tell you something new! Something white! something cold! something sleepy! something of cease, and peace, and the long bright curve of space! Tell them to go away. Banish them. Refuse to speak. Leave them, go upstairs to your room, turn out the light and get into bed – I will go with you, I will be waiting for you, I will tell you a better story than Little Kay of the Skates, or The Snow Ghost – I will surround your bed, I will close the windows, pile a deep drift against the door, so that none will ever again be able to enter. Speak to them!…’ It seemed as if the little hissing voice came from a slow white spiral of falling flakes in the corner by the front window – but he could not be sure.

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Tom Ford Remixed

When one’s funds have depleted to the point where one can’t afford a new Private Blend from Tom Ford, one mixes and matches and comes up with a hybrid from what is already on hand. In this instance, I was seeking out some of his delicious ‘Oud Fleur’ without the $225 price tag, so I perused the cologne cabinet and came up with a comparable pair of Private Blends: ‘Oud Wood‘ and ‘Santal Blush’. The Oud is a classic Ford component, but I wanted to sweeten it up for the holiday season, so I added some of the ‘Santal Blush’ – and the result is pretty fantastic.

For the most part I frown upon mixing colognes. There’s too much possibility for disaster, and one never knows how those molecules are going to mingle or fight. It’s much safer not to mix and match. Some fragrances, however, are meant to intertwine, and this includes a number of Ford’s Private Blends. Being that they’re supposedly based in essential oils, they have a better chance at being compatible, and that was certainly the case with this poor-man’s facsimile of ‘Oud Fleur.’

As we get closer to Christmas, I’ll phase out the ‘Oud’ portion and stick with a few pure spritzes of ‘Santal Blush.’ It’s a perfect scent for those evenings when all is calm and all is bright.

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Barbra Streisand Goes Back to Brooklyn…

… and I just couldn’t be bothered. Just kidding. I have friends who adore Ms. Streisand, and I’ve always admired her work and her legacy. I just haven’t been a fan. However, when her last concert – ‘Back to Brooklyn’ – aired on Great Performances, I took a moment to watch this icon in all her adulation.

She wore some kooky outfits (as much as I love sequins, they can be trite on, say… Barbra Streisand), and she did some kooky dancing (does she know any other kind?) Yet unlike other icons (ahem), Ms. Streisand’s enduring appeal is due to her most valuable asset – that voice. Like buttah indeed. Studied, nuanced, pure and powerful, it has lasted all these decades, and remains one of the world’s most astounding natural gifts. Youngsters may want to note the complete lack of auto-tune madness, and take a lesson from the sheer presence this woman commands with a few delicate notes held in just the right manner.

Yet for all the perfection and passion, part of me simply doesn’t connect with her, and that’s all right. Different strokes for different folks, and in the way that not everyone has to love Madonna, I don’t quite love Barbra. I do, however, have the utmost respect for her, and she’s a powerhouse and institution worthy of honor and accolades.

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My Name is Not David

It was bound to happen sooner or later, and I suppose I should be glad it’s nothing worse. A FaceBook friend alerted me to the fact that someone was using my likeness on a Scruff account (similar to Grindr, but for hairy guys?) and sent me the photo below to verify whether I had posted it or not. “David” is going around Scruff pretending this photo of myself is actually him. The silly, vain, and really only side of me is nothing but flattered, though I do feel bad for whomever has resorted to using my face to get whatever they’re hoping to get. It hasn’t worked with the Tom Ford shoes I’ve had my eyes on, so best of luck.

Personally, I’ve never understood impersonating someone else, or using someone else’s picture on the internet. What’s the point? I mean, what real, truthful thing will ever come of it? If you’re looking to meet someone (the whole point of Grindr and Scruff, I assumed) how will that work when the real “David” shows up? Or is it just a silly game to pass the time, some poor-man’s version of Candy Crush? Whatever the case, it’s sad all around.

On the plus side, this person did use a photo with a nice kimono in it when they could have chosen something far more salacious. Even better is that they have me pegged at 127 pounds. (Not since 1993, buddy, but I’ll take that delusion as an early Merry Christmas to me!)

UPDATE: Apparently it’s also happened on Twitter. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife, indeed.

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Steep It & Suck It

A wicked cough has been nagging me for the past few days – I’ve been fighting off a full-fledged cold or flu, but it feels like I may be losing the battle. When I feel something like this coming on, I put a pot of water on the stove and slice up some fresh ginger, dropping it into the water and letting it steep for ten to fifteen minutes. The stringent ginger water is then strained into a cup with a bag of green tea in it. I swallow it all and pray for a speedy avoidance of illness. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t – either way it’s a boon to my system, and a warm way to greet the night.

Along those lines, a poem by Wallace Stevens:

Tea at the Palaz of Hoon

Not less because in purple I descended
The western day through what you called
The loneliest air, not less was I myself.

What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard?
What were the hymns that buzzed beside my ears?
What was the sea whose tide swept through me there?

Out of my mind the golden ointment rained,
And my ears made the blowing hymns they heard.
I was myself the compass of that sea:

I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw
Or heard or felt came not but from myself;
And there I found myself more truly and more strange.

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Words from a Favorite

The Poet Compares Human Nature to the Ocean from Which We Came
By Mary Oliver

 

The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth,

it can lie down like silk breathing

or toss havoc shoreward; it can give

 

gifts or withhold all, it can rise, ebb, froth

like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can

sweet-talk entirely. As I can too,

 

and so, no doubt, can you, and you.

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The Debut December Recap

The first week of December has come and gone, which means we’re hurtling toward Christmas and New Year’s at an alarming rate. Slow this sleigh down, I say! In an effort to do that, let’s look back. It seems that dwelling in the past is the only way to slow the future, or something like that. Whatever, it’s Monday, and time for a recap.

A couple of Hunks were requested this week (something that is always welcomed and more often than not honored) starting with Oraine Barrett.

The closest I’ve been to a naked breast since college.

And speaking of naked breasts, I give you Madonna.

I finished decorating the house for the holidays! Just one room, but still…

The beautiful Ben Cohen shows off in a new calendar.

Remembering December once

Twice

Three times a lady.

More hunky goodness, in the forms of Patrick Mitchell & Bryce Thompson.

More bush.

And even more hunks than you can a bat an eye at.

Care to share a Christmas Waltz? 1-2-3…

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A Christmas Waltz

Fulfilling a promise made in this Christmas kick-off post, here is ‘The Christmas Waltz’ as interpreted by Doris Day herself. A fitting performance from a woman who epitomized the sugar-coating in which we’d all like to believe. With a voice soft as warm butter, an earnest wish for a happy holiday season, and a wholesome throwback to an era that exists only in pictures and dreams, it’s a saccharine treat with an underlying bit of wistfulness that cuts it just enough to be deadly.

Frosted window-panes, candles gleaming inside, painted candy canes on the tree
Santa’s on his way, he’s filled his sleigh with things, things for you and for me.
It’s the time of year when the world falls in love,
Every song you hear seems to say, ‘Merry Christmas, may your New Year dreams come true.’
And this song of mine, in three-quarter time wishes you and yours the same thing too.

It’s the perfect song to go with a Christmas cocktail. Not with a loud and boisterous crew, not with a gaggle of gregarious friends, but alone, on your own, surrounded by the dull drone of strangers, the few friendly words of a bartender, the solitude and sadness of Christmas, no matter how loved you are by the masses. Because if you’re not loved by the one person you want to love you back, the rest of it doesn’t seem to matter.

I’ve often wondered at the happiness that everyone else seems to feel at Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I feel it too, in my niece and nephew, in my friends and family, in my husband and parents – but there’s always been something intrinsically sad to this time of the year. Maybe because it’s so close to the end of it, so near the darkest and shortest days of the season. No one wants to talk about that. It’s easier to turn your face to the sparkling lights, the bombast, the glitter and the drums. Better to hear the dulcet tones of Doris Day than the throbbing ticking of the time clock, running out for another year, reminding you of everything you never got to do.

And so we waltz along on a holiday breeze, we raise a glass and a toast to the season. The violins swell, the chimes charm, and it’s simple to get swept away with the voice of Miss Day. How can you resist? Why would you try?

It’s that time of year when the world falls in love,
Every song you hear seems to say, ‘Merry Christmas, may your New Year dreams come true.’
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December Recollections ~ Part 3

Lest we forget, December does not end with Christmas Day. In fact, its reach extends until the very last day of the year. That tends to get lost in the importance we place on that one special day. Yet as you can see, the days following the big one can be just as beautiful, and just as important. In a single day, a whole life can change.

Sometimes the moments following Christmas ring more festively, especially if there’s been a snowfall.

It starts quietly, in the amber light on the cherry bark, the same light caught in the Northern oats.

The dusk of Boston nestles before the New Year.

It’s the time of the year when snow is still new, and still somewhat welcome.

Sparkle and shine.

Before it begins again

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December Recollections ~ Part 2

Memories of Decembers past continue to occupy today’s posts, continuing with this choice bit of family jeweldom. They weren’t the only red objects on holiday display, however, as evidenced by these bulbous bobs of spicy earth-bound sustenance.

The jewels beneath the ground weren’t limited to those in the red, but those in the gold as well.

I’ve got the second part down pat. The first too, actually.

Bang my wall, Harvey.

The woman needs no defense, but here one is anyway.

I love pink pants.

We were all kids, once…

And some of us were luckier than others.

Coda.

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December Recollections ~ Part 1

Newly into the month, let’s look back a year or two ago and recall where we were way back when… starting with this Christmas rose memory. This, for me at least, the best part of the season – when all is hope and possibility, all is yet to come. The rush is not quite there, the worry not yet a true presence. Wait for it, just wait.

Three photos that tell three thousand stories.

It seems unlikely that we will get to make a third Holiday stroll this year, but the first was such a joy that I’ll be damned if I don’t try. I mean, come on!

Like a virgin… strolling for the very first time.

This is still funny. A mother-fucking quiche.

December brings out the ego and insecurity in some of us….

And the family fun in others.

Amid the fog

A cock.

The ultimate office holiday bash.

A little bit of the devil keeps the angels at bay.

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A Brief Ben Cohen Encapsulation

He’s probably overtaken David Beckham as the favorite son of this blog, in no small part thanks to photos like these, which manage to capture huskiness and sexiness and manliness in one fell swoop. Not that Mr. Beckham doesn’t still do so, but not in quite the same straight-ally form. For that, we are forever grateful and appreciative.

Ben Cohen has been a stalwart presence here, and he’s got a new calendar about to be released, one which contains his first-ever centerfold. How we ever survived without a centerfold before this blows my mind, but that’s the effect Mr. Cohen has had on most of us over the years. Let’s just be thankful that it’s here now.

As for his previous appearances here on this site, allow me to direct you to the only ones you need to view: this definitive pictorial, and this more resonant straight ally piece. Between the two you’ll find more than enough fodder for whatever you had in mind.

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