Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

August Pause

After visitors, our home feels quieter, smaller, emptier. Andy is a relief at such times, the last bastion against the possibility of loneliness, something I haven’t felt in quite some time. And it’s not something I necessarily feel right now, but still… echoes of friends and family who have graced these halls reverberate in the mind. This has been a good summer in that regard, and as August begins, the halfway-pause is at hand. 

Ominous signs of Halloween have already started appearing in stores, and back-to-school stuff has been there for a while. Any day now I expect Christmas crap to line the shelves. It’s all too much, too soon, and so I step back into the house, into the quiet, and into the present moment. 

My meditation practice continues, a helpful way to ground each day, when being busy, even with happy events like reunions with old friends, seems to detract from the focus on the serene. A balance must be struck. A summer must be appreciated.

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Prepare the Summer Way

Preparing for visitors is one of the great joys of my life. Difficult truth be told, in the past it was sometimes even more preferable to the visits themselves, but that was before I stopped the big parties and focused on the ones who mattered most. These days, it’s an exercise of pure joy, the rekindled ecstasy of living in the moment-before-the-moment-of-arrival. A breathless anticipation that approaches grace and sets me at ease with happy hints of hope and possibility. I’m allowing myself to feel that again. 

An armful of gladiolus blooms, heavy and weighted with colorful promise, is gently dropped on the counter as I fill a favorite vase with water. An attic loft is made up for the next visitor, branches of a coral bark maple (happily in need of pruning just at the right moment) standing tall and bringing a bit of the outdoors inside. 

I text my friend that turn-down service will be available upon request, and send her the picture below. Happy host = happy visit. 

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Once Upon A Time In Your Wildest Dreams

Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

August is a time for fairy tales, and for remembering things in rosy hues that could never quite have existed the way we think they did. It is for those childhood memories that begin with the song on a boombox, way back in the 80’s when my generation brought the boombox over our heads and screamed out our declarations of love – innocent, misguided, and as wonderful as youth affords us all for the briefest of times. This song sounded out from cars and stereos in some beautiful summer from childhood, before I could really know the wonder of love… 

Once the world was new
Our bodies felt the morning dew
That greets the brand-new day
We couldn’t tear ourselves away
I wonder if you care
I wonder if you still remember
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
And when the music plays
And when the words are touched with sorrow
When the music plays
I hear the sound I had to follow
Once upon a time

Jumping into the pool, I heard bits of the song playing from the shade of the slate-floored patio. The radio was our only source for new music then, but I was still too young to pay much attention to anything beyond a catchy melody. Words were indecipherable to my ears, and even when we figured them out (after debate and argument) I couldn’t tell you what was being said – certainly not the first brush with love. Summer was too light for such cares, and I wanted to perfect my mid-air somersaults off the diving board rather than fiddle with some silly notion of romance. 

Or so I thought… or didn’t think. When a sandy-haired blonde boy across the street came over to swim, and his feet began to descend the tiled stairs of the shallow end of the pool, I ducked under the cover of water to quell the sudden heat of the spell that was suddenly cast upon me. He was years older than me, all muscle and brute force, and the blonde hair that covered his legs held me transfixed, the way it moved so softly in the water, like anemones waving to the tides from their shallow pools. 
Once beneath the stars
The universe was ours
Love was all we knew
And all I knew was you
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you think about it
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
And when the music plays
And when the words are touched with sorrow
When the music plays
And when the music plays
I hear the sound I had to follow
Once upon a time

I swam around him, circling his legs as they strode through the shallow end, watching his trunks flutter next to his white skin. I felt like shark and prey in one – the hunter and the haunted, for no one was hunting me in those days – and he was blithely unaware of my gaze – or maybe he wasn’t, and the safest recourse was to pretend he was. I imagine my rendering of his perfect body was different than an objective survey might yield with hindsight. It didn’t matter – he was the epitome of male beauty – his blond hair darkened slightly as he dove underwater and displayed his strength with sure strokes through the pool’s dappled light. 

It was a time of innocence – the way summer should be, the way it sometimes still is – and the looks from the boy I was at the time were hidden beneath the refracted light of the pool. This neighborhood Adonis would swim by unbothered save for my furtive glances, seeking out the glances of young women who could cast their own spells in ways I couldn’t replicate no matter how much I tried. 

He came only a couple of times that summer, but those visits are embedded in my mind – the very first recognition that I found men attractive, the first troubling inkling that I was decidedly unlike any of the other boys. How I wanted to share what I was feeling with someone else, but already I knew it was wrong, so I held it secret and I held it safe, allowing it to exist only at the bottom of a pool, beneath rippling sunlight, in sad and muffled silence. 

Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Mirrored in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams

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August: A Recap and a Restart

This Monday morning post for the first day of August will be performing two acts: the first is our typical Monday recap of the week that came before, and the second is the first post for the month of August. Summer requires doubling up on tasks to make more free time for others, or for simply taking in the summer days before they go away. 

July was a banner summer month – it felt like a return to the fun and jam-packed days pre-COVID and pre-adult responsibility. I’ll pack that all into our summer wrap-up later in the season – for now, just a quick nod to the past week, and the past month, and a moment of appreciation for all the sun and fun we’ve had of late. 

August 1st marks the start of the final full month of summer, and while I caution everyone not so sleep on September as far as summer goes, I did feel the very first inkling of a shift in atmosphere as my friend Kira and I sat on the patio the other night, and a breeze passed that whispered of cooler nights. Soon, the crickets will begin their tell-tale chirping, and I’ve already seen the flower buds of goldenrod, still coiled in tight bud, but ready to brighten the day with their yellow blooms. For now, and only for now, I will pause to breathe in and breathe out the wonderful July, and open my arms for whatever August may bring. On with the weekly recap…

Imitation sunshine, for those rainy days when the real thing eludes us. 

Cool shades, bro.

The glory of a summer morning classic. 

Don’t worry, bee happy.

A letter to my brand-new Godchild. 

Seashore memories bound in stolen stones. 

The utter mockery of this daiquiri. 

Familiar angels: a summer weekend in Connecticut brings sun and fun

A fresh summer snack of simplicity. 

Petunias in black and white shouldn’t work as well as this.

Sundae on Sunday.

In the words of Blanche Devereaux, “Waterlily…”

Dazzlers of the Day included Lucas Kunce, Lee Pace, and Charlie Puth

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Waterlily…

So many things seem to reference ‘The Golden Girls‘, and for gay men of a certain age that show has come to embody a more comforting and happy time. Whenever I would find myself worrying about something or troubled by the general state of worldly affairs, I would find a re-run of the show and instantly be set at ease. 

Now, whenever I hear someone mention a waterlily, or even when passing them while driving past a pond, I remember this scene. 

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Sunday Runny Sundae

It’s been way more than a hot second since I’ve had a brownie sundae, and that was rectified this past week at an impromptu lunch. Sometimes a sundae can turn the whole day around. Usually I’m more disciplined than to allow myself such an indulgence, especially at the height of swimsuit season. These days, however, discipline just feels silly, and I’m at the age where I’d rather be happily satiated than hungering for a sweet treat. If you have an itch, why not scratch it? 

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Petunias in Black & White

This may very well be the Year of the Petunia. They are somehow still managing to bloom in our backyard, despite repeated attacks by rabbits intent on defoliating them. And then on a lunch-time walk in downtown Albany the other day, I saw this exquisite variety that had me question whether the world had turned from technicolor into black and white at that particular moment. It was enchanting. 

While these were white with purple throats, it was a purple so dark that at first glance it gave the image of a black and white combo. Many gardeners seek out dark flowers, and the closer to black the more coveted. As a child, I too thrilled at the darker hues, particularly in irises. This hint of darkness in the throat of a petunia brought me back to that magic. 

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Dazzler of the Day: Charlie Puth

Keenly aware of the power of the thirst trap, Charlie Puth has been baiting his fans for the better part of the year, with sly peeks at his underwear-clad life, and while there will always be those who criticize everything that everyone does, I’m not made about any of it. He’s the Dazzler of the Day thanks to his undying and contagious passion for music, and his cheeky way around social media. His newest album ‘CHARLIE’ is due this October (which is closer than we want to realize). Visit his official website here for further details. 

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A Fresh Summer Snack

Tomato season is just about upon us. We’ve had cherry tomatoes tumbling off our trellises for days now, and the markets are just seeing the first influx of heirlooms and big boys that I don’t bother growing at home anymore. Let someone else deal with all that fuss – I’m content to purchase and pay for someone else to do the work. 

The easiest and best way to enjoy a tomato may be this classic combo of mozzarella, basil and balsamic vinegar, with a dash of olive oil and some freshly-ground pepper for good measure. It is the taste of summer, and not terribly bad for you either. Easy deliciousness for when the weather zaps all energy and fighting spirit. It can make for a light lunch, or a precursor to a heavier dinner. The possibilities are endless, unlike summer, which is decidedly all too brief.

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Familiar Angels: A Quick Connecticut Chronicle

“I’m not familiar with these angels…” ~ Joseph Abramo

The Abramo family has always been a quartet of angels in my life, so when Missy recounted a dream-like sequence of Joe’s opening angel comment, I cracked up for quite a long time. Such happy laughter was a constant during our annual Connecticut Summer Weekend pilgrimage to Southbury, where Julian and Cameron joined in the merry-making. Music was, as ever, a companion for the weekend, and the soundtrack for the occasion is neatly summed up by the light and carefree funk of Harry Styles and his new album opener, ‘Music for a Sushi Restaurant’. 

This song set the tone for the fun weekend that was had by all, and I arrived to the sunny and peaceful planning going on by the little lotus pond, just in time to see the first lotus bloom of the season. It was an auspicious start to a weekend of relaxed serenity and old friends. 

Joining in the air of calm festivities, a water lily emerged to add to the beauty of the weekend. 

Along the path leading to the pool, wildflowers lended their own blooms to the season. The world around us had granted a floriferous atmosphere that collided with our joy and peace. There is something about visiting old friends that sets the soul at ease. It is its own form of meditative cleansing. 

I took Julian and Cameron down to the pool for a quick dip (and a few games of find-the-bottle, which I would bring back to our pool when the twins visited next) before Missy and Joe joined us for some lounge time by the water. They have an idyllic home for a relaxing visit – no schedule, no pressure, no time crunch – and I relaxed into this little vacation with a grateful heart. 

This has always been a place of tranquility, accented by echoes of the Buddha, and a natural beauty that Joe and Missy have emphasized in all the right ways. Whether contemplating the still and quiet calm of the water plants in the little pond or leafing through the books on Japanese gardens and water features, each corner offered a new opportunity for comfort. Bookended by the riotous action of boys in the full giddy glow of growing up, the weekend provided a little bit of all summer joys. 

When the last petals of the lotus bloom fell, it was already time to depart – a departure made reluctantly, as it’s always hard to leave familiar angels. Perhaps we will schedule a fall return, to close out the season and start a new one…

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Dazzler of the Day: Lee Pace

When a simple squat-shot in a cave sets the internet on fire, the creator of such a firestorm is definitely worthy of Dazzler of the Day status, and so it is that we honor Lee Pace with such a distinction today. Lee first came to my attention with his work on the whimsical and criminally-underrated ‘Pushing Daisies’ with Kristin Chenoweth. Since then, he’s popped on my radar in such wonders as Tom Ford’s ‘A Single Man’ where his all-to-brief appearance still manages to make an impression, and an almost unrecognizable turn as a villain in ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’. The veil of tantalizing mystery shrouding the upcoming ‘Bodies Bodies Bodies’ only leaves us wanting more. 

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A Mockery of a Daiquiri

Crafting an off-shoot of this mocktail daiquiri recipe, I broke out the Lyre’s non-alcoholic white cane spirit for this little summer drink, whose main twist is some additional mint, for freshness, flavor and garnish. The magic of mint is that it can do all three without so much as breaking a sweat. That sort of triple threat is an antidote to the oppressive heat we may be continuing in the days to come. 

The best part of a mocktail is that there is no alcohol to dehydrate the body – which was always one of the nasty side-effects of traditional summer cocktailing. Here we have the refreshment, the cool-down, and none of the depressant or dehydrating drawbacks. Mocktail magnificence in full-effect

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Memories Bound in Stone

The dunes of Provincetown already feel far away, as if our magical time there was only a dream, much like many days this summer, which has blessed us with a number of happily notable moments. Yet I know our time in Provincetown was real, and I know how enriching it was for our souls, so I’m recounting the posts I wrote here, and feeling the collection of stones in my hands, the ones I procured at the shore to remind me that it actually happened. 

Sitting in the shell with which I collected them, these little beach stones sit in a special place in our attic, in the very room where JoAnn now stays when she visits. It ties everything together – past and present, friendship and love, beauty and nature. It’s the perfect embodiment of our time at the dunes – and a lovely keepsake for such a treasured memory. I will revisit these again when the summer departs and the long stretch of winter begins. 

Waiting for the Breach – Part One

Waiting for the Breach – Part Two

Waiting for the Breach – Part Three

Waiting for the Breach – Part Four

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A Letter to My Godson

Dear Jaxon ~ 

Last Friday, July 22, 2022, in the wee small hours of the morning – 3:06 to be precise – you entered this world and instantly brought some much-needed happiness to everyone around you. Hello little guy! What a long, winding, and wonderful journey awaits you, and what a lucky baby you are to have so many family members who already love and adore you. From your parents to your older brother and sister, to all of your grandparents, and your Uncles, we will always be here, loving and supporting you at every step of the way. 

Your brother and sister have taught me a few things about being an Uncle (and they will be more than happy to school me on any missteps I will still be likely to make) but this is my first run at being a Godfather, at least in the traditional sense of the role. Not to worry, we will figure it out together, and I promise to do my best to make your life as magical and enchanting as any proper Fairy Godfather should. (The twins can verify that.)

You came into this world during a heatwave – maybe that’s why you waited to come out when it was so deep into the night. The days have been hot and humid – a throwback to the sweltering summers we once seemed to have. Yet there you were when we made our first visit to see you, cool as a cucumber and peacefully slumbering as if the heat were no matter to you. I held you in my arms and you didn’t fuss or fidget, and time suddenly seemed to pause for a moment. 

Maybe you are the cooling and calming balm that our world so desperately needs right now. Maybe you will be the bridge we have all been seeking to a more serene and tranquil place. That’s a lot of pressure to put on such a little baby, and a lot of added baggage that you need not carry now or ever. You will become whatever you want and were destined to become, and the rest of us will be glad to watch and wonder at all the magnificence that is yours to experience. As much as I complain about things, this is a remarkable world, with many remarkable people in it, and we are here to help you out along the way, or simply hold your hand when you take your first steps. 

I wish I had the words to cast a spell that would make your life easy and good and painless. I would cast it for your happiness and peace, for your enrichment and comfort, for your health and your compassion. I would cast it for you to find fulfillment, to find kindness, to find love. But you don’t need such spells or magic – you will find your own way and discover your own path – and any words I might conjure will pale to all the marvelous treasures you will unearth on your own. 

It will be a privilege to watch you grow up and become who you are meant to be, and I can’t wait. 

Above all else, remember how much you are loved, and don’t be afraid to love in return. 

Until I see you again soon, I proudly remain,

Your Godfather

(PS ~ Uncle Andy and I love you very much – welcome to the world!)

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Don’t Worry, Bee Happy

The title of this post is the sole reason for its being.

I mean, beeing.

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