Procured from the sea halfway across the world, they stand assembled and stuck in floral form. Both the flower and the seashell aspect feel far from such a cold almost-winter day, but they’re all we have as the wind and snow rages. Winter is the time for inhabiting the imagination.
In the whorls of these designs, I see swirling snow.
In the waves and ripples of this architecture, I see a spinning sea.
Do you see what I see?
They swarm the spot where warmer water splashes into their little pond, huddling together as a December snow falls. Their moves minimal, they manage to expertly float in the tumultuous patch of water. Ice encroaches from the still corners where the water is colder. They are telling us, in their own way, that the world is about to slow down for the winter.
I feel sad to see them like that, even if they are unbothered by the change. Sad to see the winter so close, sad to see innocent animals at the mercy of the weather and the world. Sad at the simple beauty of a snowfall.
Over it all, the Buddha watches.
Stoic, calm, at peace.
The Buddha has seen it all before.
… is to be in the Carpool Karaoke car with James Corden.
Don’t deny it.
(PS – Kudos to Mr. Corden for the foresight needed to pull this amazing feat off.)
(PPS – And you know that Madonna just said no to all of it.)
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
The conception was anything but immaculate…
The birth was bloody…
But in the end, peace reigned supreme.
Some holiday cards don’t require fanfare or hype because they stand alone and will garner their own messy splash. Such is the case this year, when the image will likely be misconstrued and misunderstood, with people bringing their own sensitivity and hang-ups into the equation. This has already been the most controversial card in many years: for the first time ever, a printer refused to print it, canceling my order of 200 cards (and then having the gall to continue sending catalogs to my house). I’ve also judiciously trimmed my recipient list (yes, there are usually way more than 200 cards sent out) so if anyone gets offended here it’s by their own free will for visiting. I never promised you a rose garden. Without further ado, here we go. Spread ’em:
This was my homage to the Virgin Mary, and a twist on her famous birth-giving. Originally, I thought I might swaddle myself in some rags and construct a make-shift manger, throw some hay around, find a trio of wise-ass men and call it a day. But the logistics of constructing a manger that would support my size and weight, as well as the impossibility of renting farm animals for a couple of hours, proved too unwieldy. So I settled for this Walmart baby, some fake blood, and a hospital gown. Hey – I wanted ‘Mary Christmas!!!’
May God grant mercy on my soul for this card… and add it to the list.
Truth be told: there’s nothing all that wondrous about this recap. I’m just suspicious that I’ve used the ‘Mid-December Recap’ posting title before, and I needed something to differentiate this one. You can never do the same thing twice, no matter how fierce. That said, let’s re-tread some familiar waters before we start another week of holiday madness.
A naked Adam Levine provided happy memories of December 5.
A happy holiday commercial. And one more for good measure.
Elliott Wright had all the right (and shirtless) moves.
A pampered weekend at the spa.
Once I touched the gold.
Garrett Clayton starred in ‘Hairspray’ live, but also had his first official turn as Hunk of the Day.
There is magic in Boston, by way of Japan.
Madonna gave one of the best Carpool Karaoke episodes ever.
The Rebel Heart Tour premiered on Showtime, just in time for holiday inspiration.
In the giving spirit of the season, I took my shoes off.
And then I took it all off (except for a pair of Tom Ford sunglasses).
We are rich in Christmas wonder.
There’s always room for jello.
Dazzling, the disco ball spins its seductive spell over the dance floor.
Sparkling, it shatters spotlights and faces into a thousand visions.
They roam from floor to ceiling, wall to wall.
A throbbing, moving mass of sultry bodies sings hallelujah to the disco gods.
For some, this is the closest they will get to a religious experience.
The door was locked, but the vision behind the glass was too pretty not to try it. A rack of silk kimono hung tantalizingly just out of reach, while ancient wooden furniture and a ceiling-high sculpture of bears rose in the background. A sign indicated to “Please Ring Bell†for admittance, and though there is an unsaid understanding that in doing so you are making some sort of commitment that goes beyond that of mere casual visitor, the call of beauty was too great to resist.
A woman graciously opened the door, then silently disappeared into the sweetly-scented air. Somewhere deeper in the store, sticks of Japanese incense were burning. In the still and quiet atmosphere, the smoke hung like an abstract mountain range, rising wisps outlining temporary topographical features. Instantly, I was enveloped in another world, another continent, another century. The wind that had been raging outside was suddenly silent. The roving clouds dissipated. Light streamed in through the smoky air, illuminating the beautiful artifacts on display.
A stone pagoda stood above a stream of stones. A fountain of bright green foliage threw stunning contrast against dry wood that had seen a century of time. The garish Tanuki figures carried various creatures on their shoulders – squid, fish, and other odd accoutrements. Doll faces and doll parts, disembodied heads and limbs, and other disturbing collections filled trays and bags. Whether they were meant to scare or protect, I could not tell, but there is beauty in the grotesque too, and broadening the notion of what’s pretty is often a welcome challenge.
Paintbrushes and parchment fanned out in pretty arrays, while fans and woodblocks stood erect and rigid. The cumulative effect was one of perfect harmony, and it was almost as if the incense was intoxicating with its own seductive sense of peace.
Complex scenes of beauty sometimes rely upon strange and occasionally off-kilter elements to add accents and tension, altering a linear narrative into something much more interesting and challenging.
Here, I felt jarringly at peace. There’s that tension again, the way that something could be peaceful in a jarring way.
Life is about balance. The trick is in finding that. Amid the smoky air, I teeter on the cusp of the beautiful and the grotesque. I cross a stone stream and a mountain of incense crumbles in my wake. Stationary eyes dart about me, motionless and still. We watch one another.
Baubles and bangles all spangled in gold.
Cuffs and collars of metallic glory.
A necklace. A bracelet. A ring.
The multifaceted glass beads that make up a string of beauty.
In part or in whole, there is something pretty to all of it.
A sense of glamour, a whisper of decadence, the merest hint of luxury.
These trinkets trample upon the most downtrodden aspects of my spirit.
A brave and idiotic balm for a world of hurt.
Still we sparkle.
Still we shine.
Each year Andy puts in an order for this enormous bag of Béquet Celtic Sea Salt caramels. We first had these at a wedding a few years ago, and since that time they’ve become a holiday treat. He gives them out to friends and the team of medical professionals who keep his back in line as best as possible. They are a reminder of the simple treats available during the holiday season. There is more to this life than sugar plum fairies.
Only the BBC could produce a commercial that reminds us what our own country needs now more than ever.
God save us during this holiday season.
December 5th… why does the date ring such bells?
I couldn’t figure it out.
Maybe nothing.
But maybe something.
Maybe something big.
I looked in the archives to see what might be there, what clues might give indication to reason.
I wake up with your fragrance and it’s all over me (what cologne do you wear?)
Mario Lopez in his underwear… that can’t be it. Significant to some, perhaps.
A Victorian virgin… magical, but not quite it.
Was it Daniel Craig in his bulging Bond swimsuit?
A laugh, while important and integral to good living, is but a laugh.
Some posts are full of shit, and I’ve written many of them.
Adam Levine waking up in his underwear is definitely memorable, but even completely naked he’s not what I’m looking for.
Was it Deco World in Guilderland?
Maybe it was all about Ben Cohen.
Or the purple panache.
Or maybe it was the revealing revelation why I get naked here.
Nah.
It’s none of that.
I still don’t know.
Why this date rings in my brain.
But another year it passes.
Unremarked.
Unheralded.
It’s still fall, remember that. We have not quite moved into the winter season yet. Hold on for a few more weeks. The holiday season, however, has already begun, and I suggest we just give in to it and ride this crazy train into the New Year. With Mercury heading into retrograde in a  couple of weeks, this is all we have left. Godspeed, and on with the Monday morning recap…
I tried to kick things off a peaceful note, with some words of encouragement from Maya Angelou.
One of the most popular Hunk of the Day posts of all-time was this one for Milo Ventimiglia. We are already working on his second…
There was a Twitter challenge, but a miracle of miracles occurred when two people let down their guard and remembered their humanity and humility.
The end of November is always a bear.
No comment on the beginning of December.
Ben Cohen is back and better than ever.
Give it to me! YEAH!
Forget winter, it’s the Holiday Card that is coming.
This year’s Holiday Stroll is already in the books: Part One, Part Two and Part Three.
Hunks of the Day included Oliver Thornton, Manny Gutierrez, Mariano Ontañon, Matt Wilkas, and Brandon from the Kilted Bros.
Some blankets are so soft that they simply demand to be coddled with no clothing on. Who are we to deny such a sumptuous experience? When mortals defy the invitation to this sort of luxurious comfort, they go against their very natures. I’ve never denied those experiences, and there’s nothing more lovely than slipping out of our starchy day garb and into nothing but a cozy blanket.
This year’s holiday photo card takes a questionable turn, as it’s one of the more disturbing images I’ve featured of late. It’s time, as we’ve had a stretch of semi-innocent cards for the past couple of years and every now and then you should do something that wakes you up and pisses people off. To that end, I think this one will be a doozy. I’m offering no other advance word or hype on the subject, other than a few possible lead-ups with Christmas cards past, and this will be the only sneak-peek anyone gets until the big reveal.
The theme was a “Mary Christmas†and I’ll leave it at that. (No, I’m not in a wig or a manger, which is good since a friend once graciously pointed out that I make a damn ugly woman.) Get ready to gird your loins, because Jesus is coming…
Let this Christmas Wish List happen! Despite what the photos indicate, I’m far from a Tiffany’s gal, and the only breakfast I’m having is the traditional croissant on the street outside the store. However, there are more reasonable requests in the aforementioned link, so if you’re feeling especially generous, or just want to peruse my wildest desires, click away.
