30
March
2023
Tags: Family
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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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30
March
2023
Tags: Family, General
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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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30
March
2023
Tags: Family
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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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29
March
2023
Tags: General
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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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29
March
2023
Tags: Dazzler of the Day
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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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29
March
2023
Tags: General
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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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28
March
2023
Tags: Dazzler of the Day
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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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28
March
2023
Tags: Gardening
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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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28
March
2023
Tags: General
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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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27
March
2023
Tags: Underwear
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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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27
March
2023
Tags: General
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The Grapes of Recap

Putting a weekend of friends and family to bed is never fun, and this was one I wished could have gone on a bit longer. Reality and life are not quite ready to bend that way just yet, and so the work week begins again, and our Money morning recap is illuminated by this pretty bowl of grapes. Here’s what happened the week that this hemisphere turned to spring:

A cup of matcha, to greet the green.

Leaning into spring.

Go deeper.

Shades of salmon.

One of my favorite songs (and it’s not by Madonna)… this is Tomorrow.

Kalanchoe coming together.

Two Jehovah’s witnesses knocked on my door… and I answered.

This is my plaid flannel blouse.

Devil came down the dance floor.

Shining like a booty star.

A French omelette fail.

Dazzlers of the Day included Danai Gurira and Stephanie Hsu.

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26
March
2023
Tags: Food
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A French Omelette Fail

They make it look so easy on those Instagram reels and TikTok dreams, but when I try something like this ‘super simple’ French omelette, it sticks to the pan, burns to the consistency of a rubbery frisbee, and tastes like French bulldog shit. There is a Sunday morning lesson here (aside from not walking away from eggs to check your text messages) and it comes with the posting of these decidedly-imperfect photos. 

The vast majority of posts that go up here are highly curated and edited, cropped within an inch of their lives (and sometimes my dick) to the point that everything looked deceptively pretty and enchanting – even the darker stuff. Well, that’s not really true to life. It’s true to the spirit of this site, and the idea of aspiration, but I never liked to sugarcoat, so in the ongoing quest to embrace and accept our inherent imperfection, this post shows that failure is part of the game. 

I will try this again – though not for a day or two given the price of eggs. I ate this one, most of it, because it was edible, just not very good. There another lesson there too: accepting what’s good enough rather than tossing it out and trying to achieve something great. 

Bon appe-fucking-tit. 

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26
March
2023
Tags: Music
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Shining Like A Star

The James Renaissance continues from this ‘Tomorrow’ post, with a preview of their new orchestral album ‘Be Opened By the Wonderful’ which sounds like it’s going to be aural ecstasy to my ears. ‘She’s A Star’ gains poignance and a more tender luster than its original incarnation through its orchestral treatment, and the lyrics come into greater focus without all the glorious guitar work and drum noise. 

Whenever she’s feeling empty, Whenever she’s feeling insecure
Whenever her face is frozen, Unable to fake it anymore
Her shadow is always with her, Her shadow could keep her small
So frightened that he won’t love her, She builds up a wall
Oh no, she knows where to hide in the dark, Oh no, she’s nowhere to hide in the dark
She’s a star… She’s a star

If this is any indication of how the new album will transform some classic James songs, I’m already on board. In the 20th year of this website, I’ve been indulging in some nostalgia of late. The advancing march of time feels especially swift these days, as I watch my parents, and now my friends, go through their health obstacles – mostly due to the simple act of getting older. I feel it in myself too – the blood pressure pills, the stubborn paunch, the more-salt-than-pepper hair, the failing eyesight, and the frustrating way I can’t remember anything that happened in the last five years, or five minutes. (I can still give you stellar and detailed examinations of what went down from 1996 through 2002, however – more than anyone needs to know, and largely useless in 2023.)

In this nostalgia, I find pockets of time when I see how badly I treated some people, and how badly I’ve treated myself. There is empathy for everything we went through, rather than the mean and arch way I’ve confronted discomfort from the past. When I look back at the young man I used to be, I find myself shaking my head and giving off the smallest laugh at what we did to each other, and at the guarded ways I tried so valiantly, and foolishly, to protect my heart. All the while, I failed to find the goodness there, and the real power in being open and vulnerable. Too concerned with being perfect, too afraid of losing love by not being perfect, I walked a tightrope with all the requisite tension and carefulness involved. There should have been more happiness, and a little part of me will always mourn that I didn’t allow myself to feel that. 

She’s been in disguise forever, She’s tried to disguise her stellar views
Much brighter than all this static, Now she’s coming through
Oh no, she knows where to hide in the dark, Oh no, she’s nowhere to hide in the dark
She’s a star… She’s a star

How often do we dim our lights or silence our speech so as not to be the lighthouse or the foghorn? They have real purpose and meaning – how dare we act like we carry the same right to be here, the same right to shine or scream? The caution we craft and create is the very thing holding us back, and so we play into the grand scheme designed to keep us quiet, to keep us behaving, to keep us exactly like everybody else. How dare we be different…

Don’t tell her to turn down
Put on your shades if you can’t see
Don’t tell her to turn down
Turn up the flame
She’s a star… She’s a star

The older I get, the more myself I feel, and the out-of-place awkwardness that peppered my youth has largely dissipated. Those years were helpful – they held their own lessons and imbued me with their own power – I just wish I had learned it all a little faster. But that’s no real reason for regret – it happened when it needed to happen. It happened when it was supposed to happen. If I look back with a bit of bitterness for not knowing better, it’s only because I’m a little happier with where I am today. 

And so the star-like journey of a life is played out, and like the real stars, each one is different and unique, each has its own lifespan and trajectory designed by destiny. Each of us finds our way to our own enlightenment like we find our way home. 

It’s a long road
It’s a great cause
It’s a long road
It’s a good call
You got it
You got it
She’s a star

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25
March
2023
Tags: Music
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Devil Came Down the Dance Floor

Jake Shears just released a dance floor bop that brings me back to those full-throated dance divas of the 90’s, thanks to a featured vocal tour-de-force by Amber Martin. It’s the perfect antidote for a rainy Saturday night, when you need some inspiration, and a reminder of how fun Saturday night could and should be. Turn this one up, let go your mind and inhibitions, and set yourself free on the dance floor – even if it’s the kitchen these days. 

This one is from his upcoming solo album ‘Last Man Dancing’ which is poised to be the dance soundtrack for the summer of 2023. (Hoping it gets along with last summer‘s delightful ‘Renaissance.’) Summer music… is there a happier phrase or idea? 

Bonus post: an almost-naked Jake Shears for the fans. 

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25
March
2023
Tags: General
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A Plaid Flannel Blouse

Wearing a rather ugly flannel shirt in plaid, burnt out with some intentional rust stains, and procured on some exasperating visit to Marshall’s or TJ Maxx when I needed something different, I waited while the cashier at Price Chopper rang up some items. She was a young girl in her twenties maybe, and exuberantly asked me how I was. Mimicking her exuberance – I hadn’t quite decided whether to be nice or snarky – I said I was great and asked how she was doing in a tone that anyone who knew me would describe as manic and aggressively not-friendly, but then quickly slipped into nice mode because that usually ends things quicker. She said she was good and then looked at my shirt. The aforementioned flannel shirt. Clearly, obviously flannel. Plaid. 

“I like your blouse,” she said. 

“Blouse?” I asked, my snarkiness returning despite my best efforts. 

“I’m just bougie like that!” she replied. 

My look must have indicated my feelings, and it went beyond any Resting Bitch Face I would typically conjure, as she immediately began defending her ‘blouse’ comment. 

“What would you call it? It’s more fancy to say ‘blouse’ right?”

It was amusing now, and I didn’t want her to panic. “I’ll take ‘blouse’!” I said. “I love fancy. Normally I would just call it a shirt. A flannel shirt.”

So now I wear blouses – and, truth be told, I always did. 

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