Category Archives: General

As I write this, the Super Moon has risen over the land, and I’ve just spent a Sunday largely by the pool and baking in the sun. I don’t usually do that, but I was engrossed in a book, and sunny summer weekends like this are gifts. There aren’t that many of them left. And in order to squeeze out a few more beautiful moments, I’m going to rush through this recap.

First up was Tom Daley, back in his Speedo and making waves as only he can.

A flower that holds all of the summer in its sky-blue petals.

Family memories old and new, times two.

I made birthday plans, minus Tom Ford, and for the first time ever I’ll be spending my special day in New York City.

A lust for lavender, even when feeling feisty.

It’s all in the crotch.

As always, summer got a whole lot hotter with guys like Billy Magnussen, Francis Mossman and Trey Songz.

August is here. The month of my birthday is at hand. Remember the time I made up a birthday registry? That was fun. Even if I only got one item on the list. (When the starting price of a gift is $250 you tend to weed out a lot of casual gift-givers. Lesson learned.) Nowadays, I have this convenient Amazon wish list with all the incidental smaller gifts on it – along with several big-ticket items (there are a couple of Tom Ford Private Blends available – not to mention some fantastic art books). For those closer to me who may still be wondering what might tickle my fancy this birthday season, allow me to produce a list more reasonable than the Louis Vuitton items that occupied that first birthday registry in my more hubris-oriented youth.

In rather unprecedented fashion, Tom Ford is not at the top of my wish list this time. Since the Mandarino di Amalfi craze of earlier this summer (a scent so intoxicating I had to run out and purchase it myself) I haven’t found a Private Blend that really called to me. Mandarino’s sister frag, Costa Azzurra, was nice, but doesn’t have the staying power to merit such a hefty price point. Besides, the end of August doesn’t call for a bright summer fragrance. If I were to go for a Tom Ford fragrance, it would be the elusive ‘London’ Private Blend – currently only available in the London flagship store (and perhaps online if one is especially crafty and willing to deal with the steep exchange rate). That may be a wish beyond realistic possibility, but that’s what wishes are.

Without Mr. Ford, that frees up a spot for another fragrance. September is a tricky pocket of time for cologne. The days can be summer-hot, but the nights can be cooler. A little bit of citrus and a little bit of pepper offer a good balance together, but I haven’t had time to determine which scents best exemplify that right now. It may mean a spur-of-the-moment selection (like the Amber Absolute birthday gift from a few years ago). Or it may mean no new fragrance, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Given my love of theater and travel, it seems odd that I’ve never asked for a trip or tickets to a show, but it’s never too late to start a new tradition. And so, in the winding trajectory of this post, I may have talked myself out of a birthday cologne, and into something entirely different. After this year’s Broadway renaissance, a rekindled passion for the Broadway musical may mean that my birthday wish is a weekend in New York. Never in my life did I think I would want to spend my birthday in the city that too often annoys me, but if I can stick to those activities and the spaces that I love, why shouldn’t it be a wonderful time?

So I’m thinking Saturday, August 23 and Sunday, August 24 at the Waldorf Towers or the Standard – two hotels that are quite different, but have each called to me over the years.  I’ve taken that Monday off for the return trip home. A day of shopping on Fifth Avenue, perhaps venturing all the way up to the Tom Ford flagship store, and maybe a walk back through Central Park, and then a show (one of the following four) on the evening we don’t do the fancy dinner:

• Kinky Boots (seen it, but worth seeing again, if only to get Andy’s take on it)
• The Book of Mormon (because, rather blasphemously, I’ve NEVER seen it)
• Bullets Over Broadway (which actually closes on my birthday – hello cosmic hint)
• A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder (perhaps too close-to-home?)

I’m leaning toward ‘Bullets’ as that’s one of our favorite movies, and with a closing date on my birthday I think it may be the one (I’ve never seen a show on its closing date, but I’m guessing that’s a bittersweet and special time).

I looked at La Grenouille for a dinner (it’s one of the places where Truman Capote reportedly entertained his swans), but that was booked the entire weekend so I need to find up with a suitable substitution. Recommendations always welcome. In the meantime, start saving: my Amazon Wish List.

The month of the Virgo is upon us.

It feels blasphemous to say it, but the summer is more than half over, and speeding along at a rate far too fast for my comfort. Let’s stretch it out a bit, slow it down. At times like this, I think back to childhood, to the days when summer seemed to last forever. The beginning of August, before things got too ripe, before the zucchinis were too plump with seeds, held the aspect of endlessness. The roads stretched further then, and they were lined with wild blue chicory and Queen Ann’s lace, neither of which flinched at the heat off the pavement.

Bees and butterflies visited the umbrels of the lace-like blooms, and cicadas screeched into the midday warmth. Only the occasional passing car broke the insects’ spell, but they always resumed their buzzing. It was better when those were the concerns of the day, when the only threat was an encroaching storm-front – and even that held the possibility of toothpick races in the rain, of puddle-jumping and salamander-seeking. The best parts of boyhood might very well take place in the summer.

Every now and then I’ll pass a patch of chicory and Queen Ann’s lace, pausing in the summer sun, and remembering a time when summer was the destination. It seems we’ve arrived again. Let’s make it last.

In case you haven’t noticed (and a few of you complainers most certainly did, thanks so much) things have been a bit light here as far as content and posts go. To that I say, ‘Tough titties,’ because it’s summer and I’d rather be floating in the pool or working on the new project than tethered to a lap-top that burns right into my crotch. Save those warm willies for when the winter comes back. I’m out. Check back in the fall if you want something serious. In the meantime, naked guys, shirtless guys, bulging guys, and lazy-ass posts like this one. Sing along with me…

My birthday month is finally here! Not to worry, it’s not until the 24th, but start saving those paychecks because I’m putting up the official birthday wish list very shortly. What? You came to a website named ALANILAGAN.com and expected to find anything other than hubris? Move along, move along. Before we get into all of that fun, however, a look back at the last week of July, which came and went awfully quickly. Too quickly. We need to slow this summer down.

The rain returned, though it was not wholly unwelcome.

You know what they say about big ears.

A favorite summer pastime: the adventure movie.

Another favorite pastime: feasting on man candy using only your eyes.

A summer song, for putting a capital ‘F’ in it.

An Ilagan Family Portrait.

What’s your rush? You’re missing all the flowers…

Last but certainly not least, the parade of Hunks flew its bright shirtless banner in the well-toned forms of Chris Pratt, Diego Miguel, James Whiteside, Mark Mackillop, Chase Finlay, James Magnussen, and John Barrowman.

Tonight I’m seeing ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ with my pal Skip. His daughter Mia Grace just appeared on the Jimmy Kimmel show going head-to-head with the actual stars of the movie (Bradley Cooper, Zoe Seldana, Vin Diesel, Chris Pratt, et.al) on Marvel trivia (and promptly whipping their butts). More on the miraculous Mia in another post (she merits one of her own). For tonight, Skip and I are heading to what looks to be the movie adventure of the summer. Skip has been my man-date for a number of movies over the years, and he’s a reminder of what I miss most by not hanging out with straight guys that much.

There’s also the thrill of an adventure movie, something that harkens back to the first time my brother and I saw ‘The Goonies.’ I remember coming out of that movie and yearning to go on a similar thrill-seeking journey. We spent the summer riding our bikes through the neighborhood or exploring the forest behind our house, hoping to find our way into an adventure that offered a bit of danger, but not enough to truly threaten or frighten us. Measured risk, wherein we’d try to tempt the neighborhood bully into giving chase and following us along a booby-trap-laden forest path. (That’s what I said! Booby traps!) Of course it never came to fruition, but the planning and anticipatory delight we took in mapping out the possibility was all the fun we needed.

Other movies through the years inspired similar adventure-seeking desire: ‘Cloak and Dagger’, ‘Adventures in Babysitting‘, and the first ‘Batman’ reboot by Tim Burton. After each, I was left wanting something more exciting to happen in my life, some exciting trip down the rabbit-hole that resulted in growth. In some ways, I longed for the simple cementing of friendship that happens when you go through something so extreme with someone else.

The day after a party is usually a bit of a downer. There is something especially depressing about party decorations on the morning-after, each a little jab at the heart of fleeting happiness. One would think a forecast of rain and stormy weather would add insult to such injury, but on a recent Sunday following a get-together, I found a slice of solace in the skies opening up and pouring down.

Surely, we needed it. The sorry states of our lawn and trees have not been helped by all the dryness, but more than that I’ve missed the tranquil peace that the rain affords. Like a snowstorm, it stills the hustle for a little while, and makes watching ‘Dirty Dancing’ for the first time a little less of a guilty-pleasure. (Suzie gave me the DVD for Christmas last year – I’d never seen it. And I honestly don’t know what the fuss is all about.)

As Baby learned to dance, and Johnny Castle rescued her from the corner, I listened to the rain and thunder. It was wild and heavy for a spell, but soon passed on. The sun peeked out again as water dripped from the drooping leaves and flowers of the garden. There would be more storms in the night, with several severe strokes of lightning that took the power out. Better to sleep through such nonsense, but for now the return of the rain was a welcome respite.

Late July… that rings ominously, as it feels like we just left June. The summer is flying by, the last week of July is here, and it’s a lazy Monday morning. Time for a recap, and no better place to begin than with the Hunks of the Day that turned the heat up.

It began with British diver Jack Laugher, continued with Madonna’s boy-toy Timor Steffens, second-time-around crooner Adam Lambert, and hairy male model Ryan Barrett.

An anniversary gift from Andy scented the air, and my body, with a little yuzu from Issey Miyake.

And speaking of that anniversary, this week marked number 14. 

Summer crept along, rather prettily.

My first car in over a decade: introducing the Ice Blue Show Queen.

An enchanting secret in the backyard, and an unexpected bed post.

Summer fun with family, a habit to which we are getting happily accustomed.

And some adult swimming pool fun, because that’s what most of you wanted to see. (Or not…)

The title of this post takes its name from a book by Truman Capote, and contains the following quote:

Of many magics, one is watching a beloved sleep: free of eyes and awareness, you for a sweet moment hold the heart of him; helpless, he is then all, and however irrationally, you have trusted him to be, man-pure, child-tender.

The obvious route to take, pictorially-speaking, is a bed shot, with some teasingly-placed sheets entwined around the nether regions. However, since we’ve already gone the nude road earlier today, I’ve switched it up with these early-spring bearded shots from a few months ago. Spring already feels far away, and I’m somewhat sorry that it should be so.

Some days, especially hot ones, should require no more than a quick glance at the computer screen. I’ll make it easy for you – and for me – and just supply this summery Enya song. It was used in an Iced Tea commercial I think, and Iced Tea always reminds me of summer days spent in air-conditioned quiet, watching the NBC soap operas and lazily waiting for the night to come.

Let the temperatures soar and the recap begin! We’re gearing up for some summer traditions – such as our anniversary this week – and some new twists as well, like my new baby (news and pics of that coming shortly). In the meantime, a look back at an average, and therefore perfect, week in mid-summer.

A reunion with my pal Kira made for a fine weekend in Boston, highlighted by her very first performance of ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ (whose reinvention was reason alone for me to attend too.)

As had happened with George Michael, Ricky Martin, and Anderson Cooper, I was the last one to believe that Ian Thorpe was gay (and, quite frankly, I’d never even heard those rumors.) Well, it turned out he was playing for my team all this time, and recently came out, so he was honored with the ultimate glory – a crowning as Hunk of the Day.

The unheralded yet stalwart hosta was a reminder that consistent perfection is rarely if ever honored.

My turn as a spandex-bound gay disco hero, which is all I’ve ever wanted to be.

Grilling something that apparently serves as a home under the sea.

The Madonna Timeline will be back, and until then we wait in joyful suspense.

The Hunks were hotter than ever, thanks to the likes of Todd Finlay (who is one of the three colorfully-clad SPeedo guys in the featured pics here), current touring Phantom Cooper Grodin, writer J.W. Harvey, and male models Sung Jin Park, Bryan Thomas, and Andre Hamann.

One more naked Michael Phelps shot.

Finally, how’s this for homoerotic: Zac Efron and Bear Grylls, going down together. Literally – and on video.

There’s not much to say when the weather is fine and the living is easy, so I’ll keep this recap brief and to the point, filling it with eye candy over cumbersome words. My attention must turn to the gardens – mostly keeping them watered and well, which in 90 degree weather is a perpetual job, but a good one. There’s nothing more fulfilling than taking care of a plant and seeing it respond in kind. Here I am droning on about things when I promised something brief. I hear you. Here we go…

Gardening did indeed form an integral part of the week, with beautiful begonias and other little flowers.

Roses, and memories of roses, played a pretty part in the proceedings too.

Michael Phelps gamely gave Tom Daley a run for his Speedo-less money as he got naked and showed off some stellar tan lines.

A boy named Rat brought me back to Russia.

Gratuitous pool shots, but the booty pop will have to come later. (And believe me, it will.)

The heat was on, thanks to the Hunk of the Day. Adding shirtless sparkle to the summer parade were Daisuke Ueda, Hector Peña, Rodrigo Guilherme, Jose Pena, Diego Sans, and double-dipper Ronnie Kroell.

Finally, Zac Efron – shirtless and riding a horse, as one does.

It’s not just the water, it’s the light. The way it glistens on the crests of tiny ripples, the way it wavers through the limbs of trees. Caught in a drop, reflected off a window, mottled by a passing cloud, it is the light that informs the water. The sun warms the pool, then the pool holds onto the heat after the sun goes to bed. Working in tandem to produce such a sensual experience, one always pales without the other.

It’s a reminder of the primal building blocks of this world, the basic requirements for life. There is play involved whenever water and light get together, and it’s a happy meeting, always.

The mad rush of giddy molecules in the way water follows water, and the undeterred path of light, not bothered or broken by such transparency, conspire to make the most grumpy soul smile and laugh with pleasure.

Sometimes the simple act of swimming can be a soul-stimulating experience. Let that not limit the fun involved. Splashing is not solely the province of the young and brave.

The water, and the light, will laugh if you know how to listen.

And if you know how to laugh, well, you’re more than half-way there.