Category Archives: General

The weather forecast looks dreary, and I’m due back from Boston at some point today, so my fingers are crossed any storms hold off until a little later. I was in town for a couple of contractor estimate meetings in the hopes of finding something within the limited bathroom budget. As we are still in the planning stages, I remain hopeful. For now, here is a quick look back at other starts of spring, and other beautiful beginnings. It encapsulates most of the official “1st day of spring” posts.

The season has officially begun, even if temperatures won’t truly indicate that for a while. I’m simply grateful to have survived another winter in the Northeast. Granted, it was a mild and mellow one, and we escaped relatively unscathed. After last year’s never-ending torture, we deserved it. Now, onto the seasons of light and warmth, and not a moment too soon.

What in the name of God Almighty is this evangelical insanity???

Is this a magical land of shamans and witchcraft?

Are they speaking in tongues?

Can that rabbi move his hand lower to cover Donald Trump’s mouth forever after?

Watch this and tell me these yahoos aren’t completely whacked out of their minds.

Wow.

Wacky.

Cracky Wacky. As in they are on the CRACK.

Step back.

Remember Whitney.

Crack is Whack.

And so is Donald Trump.

I may have to make a new category of ‘Crazy’ for this one. (Or file it under the ‘Homophobia‘ one, cause you know these loons hate a little man-on-man action.)

On Monday mornings we recap the previous week’s posts, kind of like a little coffee clatch/clutch to ease into the work week. It’s especially needed when we were robbed of an hour this past weekend and will only really feel it come this lovely Monday morning (too soon). Let’s postpone for a bit and look back as we begin the final week of winter, minus one hour.

Kickstarting things off was this Coco Peru post. Anything Ms. Peru does is an instant pick-me-up.

I still have a love/hate relationship with Madonna’s ‘Autotune Baby’.

You’ll never believe what I put in my mouth in high school. (And I even did it while marching down the street.)

Zac Efron took his shirt off, but that was nothing compared to this glimpse of his star-spangled Speedo.

The imminence and eminence of the bedroom.

Lost: the men of Boston.

Madonna took us to the circus.

The Red Witch.

The White Drops.

The Shirtless Men.

As always, there were Hunks galore, and they were all over the map, from baseball player Bryce Harper, crooner Matt Dusk, model Ekhosuehi Eseosa, porn star Justin King, fitness fanatic Brandon Myles White, underwear guru Daniel Miller, and actor Dwayne Cameron.

When bloods runs from the otherwise bare limbs of a witch hazel shrub, the end of winter is at hand. I think the yellow version of this is the one most typically seen and known, which makes this burgundy variation all the more intriguing. We want that which is rare and uncommon – at least, I do.

One of the first spring shrubs to dare to bloom, witch hazel is a brave and hardy little thing, often shining through late season snowfalls and whipping wind, not to mention the deluge of spring storms just around the corner. Such resilience in the face of Mother Nature’s final gasps of winter – always the most cruel – is a thing of rugged beauty. The embodiment of idealism in a crinkled bloom.

The most thrilling turn of seasons is when winter bleeds into spring – whether that’s in the running water of a melting pile of snow, or the metaphorically bloody clumps of this crimson witch hazel.

We are ready.

Let it come.

There’s a very good reason the oboe is not traditionally part of a marching band: it’s fucking dangerous. How I managed to march in the Amsterdam Rams Marching Band with an oboe and not stab myself in the face with a sharp double reed is more a testament to my stubborn refusal to learn a new instrument than any sense of reason. Here is proof that it did happen.

If ever I were to be put off by purple feathers, this would have been it, but since it didn’t happen I doubt it will ever happen. The rest of that scratchy uniform, however, did instill an abhorrence to polyester and all its evil forms. I’d go into the details of how it all came about, but I think the picture is more than enough for this Wacky Wednesday post. One day I’ll regale you with tales of how I fashioned a clarinet lyre onto the base of the oboe to hold my music, or the night we put on a half-time show in the midst of flurries, or the simple fact that I marched down the streets of Amsterdam WITH A FUCKING OBOE IN MY MOUTH.

Since so many of you enjoy seeing the piss taken out of me, Wacky Wednesday may be a new regular, or semi-regular, feature. Or it might not. As much as I enjoy a bit of silliness from time to time, I’ve suffered enough. (You’re going to love it.)

It may be a rather long bend, but it’s happening – the arrival of spring. With temperatures set to soar to 70 degrees this week, I’m gearing up for the exciting and imminent arrival of relief. It’s much too soon to start the full-on celebration, but it’s always been the anticipation that I adore anyway. On with a look back at the frigidness that came before…

For all those who say there is no justice in this world, I give you Hunk of the Day Justice Joslin. (He’s also the guy featured in the pics here.)

We entered March on the wings of a witch (hazel).

A Madonna dancer, Loic Mabanza, took a bow as Hunk of the Day.

The weather remained cold enough for a proper duck dinner.

Keeping things warm was this hodgepodge collection of shirtless male celebrities.

My delusions are far from done.

Pietro Boselli earned his second Hunk of the Day crowning, and is well on the way to a third.

Other Hunks of the Day included Chris Masters, Torben Liebrecht, Dan Rodrigues, and Sean O’Reilly.

A sneak-peek at Zac Efron’s star-spangled Speedo.

The Madonna Timeline made a quiet return with the lead-track (‘Survival’) off her ‘Bedtime Stories’ album.

By far the biggest news for my week was the announcement of plans for a Boston bathroom renovation. The time is at hand… now wish me all the luck in the world, because it’s going to be needed.

Lest anyone wonder about the fate and current status of The Delusional Grandeur Tour, it is going half-steam ahead, as work, weather, sickness and financial issues have slowed things a bit but not derailed anything entirely. I’m spreading this one out further to allow for more traveling and visits, and since I’m still exhausted from making the tour book, it’s a necessary breath-catcher. We are in the midst of the ‘Red Riding Wood‘ interlude, which forms the mid-section of the book, so a bit of a break is a good thing at this point.

To remind those who know nothing of my “touring” delusions, the feature photo here comes from my very first tour, on an Ithaca stop wherein I stopped by Cornell to see my friend Suzie and all the gang from College Ave. Clearly costumes were the main highlight back then, and the tour book was only a few stapled ditto pages of grainy gray images cobbed into an approximation of a tour program. Yet somehow it all felt more real then.

Now, it’s more of an act, an excuse to hop on a plane and travel somewhere else, or see a friend I haven’t seen in a while. For this next section of the tour, I’ll aim to recapture the rawness and excitement of those early days. Upcoming stops include Cape Cod, MA and Washington, DC. It’s a fool’s quest, perhaps, but it will be a fun one. I’ve always chosen being a fool having fun over pretending to be a genius miserable with self-aware reality. Let the delusional grandeur continue.

The month of March is at hand! The month when spring arrives – if not by way of weather then by way of calendar, and I’ll take either. When life seems troubled by the burdens of being an adult – mortgage payments, credit card payments, health insurance, car insurance, job responsibilities, home repairs, spouse’s health – I pause and think of a March first in the early 1980’s.

It was a dreary, blustery day and I was in the second grade. Outside, it was gray and dismal and soggy, but even that was not enough to dampen my spirits, as we were learning that March came in like a lion and went out like a lamb. It was the most important lesson of the day, and it was all that mattered. It was back when life consisted of dealing with the seasons and the holidays and the long trudge toward summer vacation – not even a glimmer at such an early stage of the year. We drew lions and lambs, curlicues of wind and the yellow orb of the sun breaking through the clouds. We sat at our desks, arranged in a U-shaped design around the center of the room, and worked on our posters. Beneath the fluorescent lights we felt safe and unbothered by what was outside, what was to come.

I long for that moment. I think of it when I awake in the middle of the night worried about things, when in darkness and solitude I suddenly miss having a classmate flanking each side of me, lending a crayon or a pencil, sharing a laugh or a whisper, comparing the sky on my paper with the sky outside the window.

We spend our childhoods dreaming of what it will be like to be older, and we spend the rest of our lives trying to get it all back.

Last night’s live-blogging of the Oscar telecast began in thrilling fashion, but fizzled as the show went on. In fact, it’s the ‘In Memoriam’ tribute portion that’s on as I’m writing this. Multi-tasking, baby. Onto a brief look back at the week that came before this last day of February, an extra day only allotted every four years.

Alex Valley (featured poster boy for this recap) kicked things off as the Hunk of the Day.

A family memory came to me in the middle of the night.

This fragrance was a happy surprise, even if it contained elements of nakedness and Madonna.

Family dominated the week, as my brother celebrated his 39th birthday. (He makes furniture too.)

Somewhat surprisingly, Anderson Cooper only just got his first Hunk of the Day honor.

The hue of spring, as early as it was welcome.

When flowers fade, beauty lingers.

A mid-winter, mid-afternoon cocktail break.

Shit went from faux to pho.

Other Hunks featured this week were Eric Rutherford, Harry Aikines-Aryeetey, Aaron Lee Smith, Philippe Gagné, and Jack Eyers.

Finally, the Oscar recap as live-blogged by yours truly. It’s why I hate live-blogging.

Blog posts are traditionally titled with the aim of gaining clicks and viewers, devised with snappy and often saucy phrases to whet the appetite and entice the casual browser. This is not one of those. This is an honest description of the way I feel at this time of the year, and the way I feel about this recap of the week. There’s a whole month left of winter, so chew on that while you look back.

Things began on a promising and artistic note, with this post on the amazing work of Nicolas Brunet.

Zachary Quinto’s boyfriend Miles McMillan took it all off and infected every one of us with some serious beach envy.

Michael Phelps remains musclebound, and headed for the Speedo parade.

An aural treat by a Trainor.

Domhnall Gleeson made for an unorthodox hunk, but a ginger is a ginger.

What do I care how much it may storm?

I’ve got lavender light to keep me warm.

A rare double-Hunk of the Day post featured Will Wikle and Colby Keller double-teaming the popular feature.

The Delusional Grandeur Tour carried onward, deep into the forest.

Ronnie Kroell continues to use his hunkdom for good.

Typically-hot hunks dominated the nightly posts, headed up by Bo Roberts, François Sagat, Zack Hardt, and Brock O’Hurn.

Last but not least, a whiff of summer carried on the wind, in the form of some Tom Ford gorgeousness.

It had to happen, sooner or later. The arrival of winter in full frigid form, with the kind of cold that bites into your throat as soon as you step outside. We had it this past weekend, and while not entirely unwelcome it’s still a shock. (You all remember last year, right? This is NOTHING compared to that…) In other words, we are right where we should be, polar vortex nonsense and everything. On with the recap, to keep you warm.

Things began in a heated way, thanks to Mr. Matthew James Lister, one of the more popular Hunks of the Day of late.

A hot shower is a luxury for some of us, but I’ve never taken it for granted.

Viewers also enjoyed the hot, hairy ass of Tobi Jasicki.

Listeners enjoyed the aural fixations of Madonna and her Holy Water.

Some guys got their naked butts out for Ass Wednesday. Glad Lenten tidings to the nude male celebrities.

Faded memories.

Two-time Hunk of the Day Ben Todd did his best warm-up exercises.

Comfort food in the elegant Bravo of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.

Alex Oda gave hot male face and bod to the Hunk of the Day tradition.

A Boston bedroom in the sunlight of winter.

Tom Ford gives a lesson in the beauty of ‘A Single Man.’

Joss Mooney almost lived up to his name in his first bow as Hunk of the Day.

This year’s Valentine’s mix was a folk-themed collection of quiet love songs.

Stay warm, lovers.

If it were any other week, I’d have a major problem with all this groundhog talk. The rodent has never been good to me or my sweet potato vines, but since he didn’t see his shadow, I’m thanking his lack of vision and counting on an early spring. Holding faith in such folkloric tales is as foolish as courting crows for a game of chess, but I’m not averse to a little blind check mating. Now I’m mixing metaphors and making a mess of things, so let’s look back before I forget what already happened.

Groundhog villainy notwithstanding, things began with this semi-faux pho, a cooking success by all accounts.

Gregory Maguire offered his enchanting take on ‘Alice in Wonderland’ in the equally-wondrous ‘After Alice.’

The Delusional Grandeur Tour was in stationary status when the week began, but by the weekend it returned with this hint of the woods, and then the first installment of the ‘Red Riding Wood’ section, and its immediate follow-up.

A voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you…

A new fragrance for winter.

And the heat was on, thanks to Hunks like Ryan Tongia, Valerio Pino, Gary Taylor, Brendan Hansen, Tim Tebow, and Donnie Rust, the Naked Busker.