“I have emptied a pot of lentils into the ashes for you. If you have picked them out again in two hours’ time, you shall go to the ball with us.” ~ Into the Woods
This wonderful lentil soup recipe makes for a perfect fall meal. That something as simple as a pot of lentils, through heat and seasoning and some supplemental ingredients, should become something as delicious and sustaining as a soup is a wonder that will never disappoint me. Fall brings me back into the kitchen, back to the stove from which I generally shy away during the warm summer months. There is a comfort in that, and it reminds me of winters when a broken heart would only be healed through the warmth of a pepperoni tomato sauce. Food can heal that way. Cooking too.
The Harvest Moon, also known as the Corn Moon, rose in full, super form last night, in the second of such shows this September. Drained of color, the sky allowed one brief glimpse of its glory before clouds obscured the light and hid its globular form. I wonder if the cloud cover will work to blunt the madness a full moon can often elicit. I hope it does. I’ll take a day of rain for some of that protection.
There was a time when farmers used the light of the Harvest Moon to do what its namesake indicated – late night harvesting of vegetables, mostly corn at this time of the year. I haven’t been making my usual outside rounds, and I have no idea what state our backyard gardens are in. When last I checked there were Japanese anemone in bloom, and a coreopsis that I always forget about at this tail-end of the gardening season.
I also haven’t been to the garden centers or nurseries of late, so I don’t know what sort of bulbs are on offer, nor am I inclined or ambitious enough to purchase any and set up that kind of digging work for myself. It might make a good present and activity for Mom though, so perhaps I’ll pick some up this weekend. She has new space for bulbs, and I’d love the coming spring to be filled with flowers and a chance to start over again at her new home.
Bad news fellow full-moon dreaders: we’ve got a full supermoon rising on this Friday, September 29, and it’s already fucking things up big-time. It spurred yesterday’s attitude of no-more-fucks-to-give, which looks to continue through the end of the week, and quite frankly I’m not sure how anyone around me is going to handle it. Here’s hoping that no one decides to fuck around and find out, because the finding out this week will be like none you have ever experienced.
A combination of grief, agitation, and uncertainty is a very bad combination indeed. In an effort to re-focus what can often be a manic energy from the full moon, I intend to fly as far under the radar as I can without crashing – a delicate and dangerous balancing act that has proved difficult to master.
Daily meditation has formed a safe and consistent bastion of stability in my world over this past summer, a time period when I needed it most. In addition to the formal meditation practice, I’ve also been taking things quietly, using what focus I can find to get through the work days, and spending the remaining hours of the afternoons and evenings writing these blog posts, listening to music, and doing some light reading.
This song came over the radio the other day, and I paused in the post I was writing to listen.
Originally I thought that the fall would reinvigorate me, allowing us to move beyond what was a terrible summer, but I haven’t quite felt that. Not yet. It might simply be that I’m not ready, or it may be that this is the slower pace and quieter footfalls of all that is to come. Learning to accept that is part of this fall, and there is already something peaceful and calming about it.
Taylor Swift put Travis Kelce on the map the same way Bridget Jones put Renee Zellweger on the map. Only one other person in the world will get that, but it tickles me in the same way that people who had never heard of Travis Kelce are suddenly acting like he was not known. Full disclaimer: I did not know of Travis Kelce prior to Taylor making a spectacle of herself at one of his football games (a spectacle of which I fully support, because I spent all last weekend trying to get into one of those cozy glass houses at a baseball game where it was pouring rain – but that’s a story for another post, and trust me, it’s coming up…) As for Travis Kelce, some rudimentary research and image-seeking found a man wholly worthy of this Dazzler of the Day. See for yourself.
Chris Evans is enjoying a respite from Hollywood and indulging in the joys of marriage, which means he’s been off the market for a while, but that doesn’t stop many viewers from entertaining far-fetched fantasies, particularly when GQ captures him in a tank top and tats. Mr. Evans has been featured here a number of times in the past, all of which are worth a revisit, starting with this shamelessly shirtless post from over a decade ago.
The pillow in that place is worn and torn, its fanciful fringe falling off the edges and in need to sewing and repair. The cushions are slightly indented, and more comfortable for it. The vantage point gives a view of the front yard, and the Norfolk Island pine. Soon the inside will be greener than the outside, and that’s the time of the year when this corner of the couch comes into its own.
I’m lying on the moon My dear, I’ll be there soon It’s a quiet starry place Time’s we’re swallowed up in space We’re here a million miles away
There’s things I wish I knew There’s no thing I’d keep from you It’s a dark and shiny place But with you my dear, I’m safe And we’re a million miles away
We all see the same moon. Maybe it’s in shadow for some, maybe it’s brighter for others, maybe it’s barely discernible behind clouds, and maybe it’s the only thing to be seen in the sky – but it’s the same moon, the same body in the universe that everyone on earth gets to glimpse in some way. In that respect, the moon has always been a comfort to me, a reminder that we’re not quite alone.
We’re lying on the moon It’s a perfect afternoon Your shadow follows me all day Making sure that I’m okay And we’re a million miles away
Behold the fiery cockscomb! Bearer of fall beauty, and so tantalizingly named, it heralds the arrival of autumn here on this blog. But enough cock-talk and cock-teasing, on with the first weekly recap of the new season…
While Jacob Elordi has achieved prominence, fame and acclaim for his turns in ‘Euphoria’ and ‘The Kissing Booth’ trilogy, it is his upcoming performance in Emerald Fennell’s ‘Saltburn’ that has me the most excited. When someone of such beauty also thrills with their talent and acting prowess, it’s the stuff of legend and Hollywood firmament. Witnessing a star in the process of being born is a wonder indeed, and for that Jacob Elordi is crowned Dazzler of the Day.
Flowers hit differently in the fall, not only in variety, but in how they bloom. I’ve seen azaleas reblooming in this weird season, and heard tales of lilacs doing the same. In both cases, those blooms are often smaller and more delicate than their robust original forms in spring. As such, they feel more precious, more dear – a testament to the importance of timing. It’s not enough to bloom – one must do so at just the right time. As if we don’t have enough of which to keep track.
Chrysanthemums and asters form the attention-getting bulk of the florals at this time of the year, and as seen here they are more than worthy of such admiration. Driving along many roads now one can find the combustible combination of goldenrod and purple asters in their beautifully-distracting duet. As we begin the march away from the days of summer, this beauty is a balm.
Before the official first day of fall way back in the year 1994, I was priming the seasonal pumps with my ‘Darkness’ project, in which I did a rather perfunctory examination of, well, ‘Darkness’ in an effort to strike some fun fear and silly scares in the hearts of my friends. Little did I know that real life would soon prove dark enough, and that all my writings and mix-tapes on such a theme would feel all the more silly afterward.
This song opened up the theme on the ‘Darkness’ mix I made for all of my friends. (Yes, a mix-tape, on a 90-minute cassette from the 80’s.) The grand finale to the month-long mailing extravaganza of my ‘projects’ at the time was usually the tape (which included chilling musical motifs from the likes of ‘The Silence of the Lambs’). This particular package came with a bloody knife wrapped in a bloody wash-cloth, to really get the point across. (The post office used to be a lot less stringent in what you get away with mailing.)
Love – nobody know just how it was born Love – first came to me with the radio on Jumped up in my body with an attitude Kissed me on the mouth and said “Your leader take me to”
‘Twas like thunder all thru the night
And a promise to see jesus in the morning light
Love say “Take my hand, it’ll be alright
C’mon save your soul tonight”
The package, and the entire project itself, brought mixes reactions. One of my friends reported it, while Suzie and the Cornell Crew opened the package, shrugged, washed off the knife and added it to their questionable collection of kitchen utensils. Back then, I considered it a success based on those disparate reactions alone. Clearly, I was still finding my footing as far as creative expression went.
The stories that accompanied the ‘Darkness’ project were designed to disturb and scare, and thankfully I no longer have any of them because I’m sure they read as more ridiculous than terrifying. (The only one I partially recall is a fantasy on torturing my annoying roommate at the time – a broken light bulb was going to be inserted into his, well, you get the idea.) I wanted to illuminate all the ways that Darkness can make us do things we wouldn’t normally do, things of which we would never be proud, things that turn us into lesser-versions of ourselves. I accessed the darker corners of my psyche and let it all play out on the page, taking my friends along for the ride whether they liked it or not.
Love’s kiss was running all thru my veins
The bed started shakin’, I don’t know who to blame
Me or this flower right in front of my eyes
Is this my sweet savior or the devil in disguise
‘Twas like thunder (oh) all thru the night (all through)
Promise to see jesus in the morning light
Love say “Take my hand, it’ll be alright
C’mon save your soul tonight”
It was my attempt to keep myself in their minds while we were miles apart – my biggest fear back then may have been being forgotten. It worked almost too well, and I came up against the prickly lines that vacillated among notoriety, derision, and disgust. Alienating friends was the art form I was unintentionally perfecting, and the solitary stance in which I found myself may have fed into my behavior that fall. Sometimes I think darkness begets darkness, and once you start rolling down that hill it’s very difficult to stop, much less right yourself. The best you can do is slow down a bit, and hope that any impact at the end won’t kill you outright.
Like rain falling on a window pane
Tears came to my eyes when I asked her name
Made me holler when it finally came
Said “Only the children born of me will remain”
‘Twas like thunder all thru the night
And a promise to see Jesus in the morning light (mornin’ light)
Love say “Take my hand, it’ll be alright
C’mon save your soul tonight”
This song by Prince and the New Power Generation, from the brilliant ‘Diamonds and Pearls‘ album (which remains my favorite Prince album, as much as purists may scoff) brings me back to those thunderous days, when fall felt like the most fitting season for the tales of fright I was intentionally crafting and intentionally living. Fall was rife for drama in that way, and I courted it unabashedly, conjuring the tension and emotions required to make an impression and a memory. I would burn everything down before they could forget me.
Now that feels all so silly and futile, and the only ones who remember anything of my ‘Darkness’ project are myself and the small smattering of friends who got that bloody knife in the mail. Oddly, and wonderfully, those are the only ones who still matter.
Thunder…
Like thunder (thunder) all thru the night (thunder yeah) Promise to see Jesus in the morning light (it will be all right) Love say “Take my hand, it’ll be alright (it’s gonna be alright) C’mon save your soul tonight”
Thirty years ago I was experiencing my first semester at Brandeis University. That puts time, and age, in a very stark perspective. (Originally I typed ‘Twenty years ago’ then did the disturbing math and here we are.) A lot was learned that first semester, so much so that I thought I knew it all by the time the holidays rolled around that winter. Looking back, it’s amazing at how much I didn’t know, and how I still somehow had the balls to walk around like I had my shit together. Going back in time, it’s a wonder such hubris and insecurity could so functionally co-exist… and rewinding to the fall of 1993, I’m astonished at what I still feel when I allow myself to return to that time…
He said I must be dreaming But I thought I heard the sound The sound that lovers make As they drop down from the window Quiet as cats, across the courtyard Moving from shadow to shadow Past the guards to the forest So quiet in her still reflection Drawing them down, drawing them down to the lake To the centre of her attention
In that fall semester, I steal away to Boston whenever I have a chance, finding more comfort in the chilly solitude of the city than the student-filled campus. At the Tower Records store that once stood at one end of Newbury Street, and is now occupied by a TJ Maxx, I browse the bins of CDs, because it’s still only the early 90’s, and I’m still only a few steps removed from boyhood. On this particular night, I’m feeling particularly daring, and so I gamble on an unheard purchase – the ‘Laid’ album by James – based on the accolades in the advertising blurbs, as well as the gents on the cover, decked out in dresses and eating bananas. It spoke to me.
The album would become one of the most profound musical connections at one of the more profound formative sections of my life – that tender time of the very last teen years, still a child in some ways, not yet a young adult in others, and nowhere near figuring out where I might belong and who I might be, but absolutely hell-bent on finding out by any means necessary. Music discovered at such crossroads invariably becomes imbued with significance and import, even if it’s only to our own ears.
Steal the moon tonight Before the morning Steal the moon tonight I just love a good mystery And on the West Bank a boat is being pulled Across the sands they move so softly Slip into water Oars dip, don’t break the moon’s reflection And drift like a cloud To the centre Beneath her cool attention
On the recent evening of the Super Blue Moon – the last of its kind for well over a decade or so – this song was revealed to me via the latest album by James. It turns out this was a B-side to the epic ‘Laid’ album – and I can hear in its melody and delivery the same tone and majesty that first drew me into their fan base two decades ago. It seems a fitting song to introduce the fall season of 2023 at ALANILAGAN.com, and it brings me all the way back to 1993; those tender early days at Brandeis are rife for exploration, though I’m not sure I’m up for that kind of triggering right now.
This fall also marks the 25th anniversary of when I got my first office job – at John Hancock – and I recently stumbled upon the blank book I had everyone sign when I left that gig. The revelations there are as hilarious to me as they will likely be mundane to you, but since this is still my blog I may post them anyway. (Don’t let that frighten you off from boredom – some of the things people wrote are enjoyably embarrassing for those who love to see me in such ego-busting peril. You know who you are, and I know who you are.)
What I don’t know is what this season will bring – and after the events of this summer, I really don’t want to think about it. Getting through it, day by day, will be enough for us to manage. Let’s do it together.
Still water Still water Steal the moon tonight Before the morning Steal the moon tonight I want to drown in your moon dream I’ve seen you rising from shore to shore I want to drown in your moon dream I’ve seen you rising Steal the moon tonight Shine Shine Shine
At the time this blog post goes up, it will be the first day of fall, and I will hopefully be in Boston with Skip on our almost-annual BroSox Adventure. Should all go according to plan, this will mark our first fall game, which is reminiscent of the very first Red Sox game I ever attended with my family, way back in 1986. More on that later – for now, let’s focus on this particular first day of fall – it will come with enough memories.
On this first day of fall, I’ve found a song that brings me back twenty years – well, the song actually found me in the way that destiny sometimes intervenes – a gift of the last Super Blue Moon, and it’s coming up in a post later today. Let’s meet back here in a bit to reconvene and listen together – in the meantime, Happy Falling.
