Category Archives: General

Why I Don’t Need a Vacation

A lot of people tell me (usually when I’m complaining) what a charmed life I lead. Well, duh! I’ve never contended otherwise. I’m extremely lucky and blessed in many ways. But, despite the effortlessness I strive to portray, it’s not easy, and whether you want to admit it or not, I do work hard. The difference between me and many others, from what I can tell at least, is the way I approach the day. And this is a secret that is only a secret because I never thought much about it until a friend mentioned how it seemed like my life was so carefree and easy. Well, it’s not. No one would admit theirs is. But what I try to do is live each day as if I was on vacation.

A vacation need not be constituted by travel around the world or expensive hotels or catered dinners. For me, a vacation is a frame of mind. All the joy and exuberance I might outwardly muster is from this unconscious (up until now) effort to behave as if I was on perpetual vacation from the drudgery of life.

First off, when most of us are on vacation we don’t care what other people think – mostly because we’ll likely never see them again. In far-off lands and foreign climes, we let our guard down because we’re relatively safe in assuming that the people we encounter won’t be following us back to the workplace or the Thanksgiving Dinner table. There’s safety and security, and more than a little freedom, in anonymity.

Second, we wear crazy and fun outfits when we’re on vacation – whether that’s in more relaxed beach garb, or fanciful formal couture for dressy dinners. We dig out the cocktail dress or the bow tie, we try out hats that we never would have looked twice at when home. Some guys might even squeeze into a Speedo on a beach outside of America. It’s the time and place when we dare to be what we’ve always wanted to be, and it’s all okay because we think what happens on vacation stays outside of real life, and judgment, and criticizing homeland eyes.

Third, on vacation we splurge and treat ourselves to things we normally wouldn’t. Whether that’s dessert, or an expensive piece of jewelry, or an extra cocktail, we relax and indulge. We take the time to pamper ourselves, to give in to the pleasurable impulse, to seize the day. And through that, the important things suddenly come to the forefront, and when you realize what really matters in life, it makes everything that much easier.

Finally, we learn to relax and let go of the trivial things that bother us every other day of the year. Strict schedules bend and sway, tight rules break and unbind, and rigid countenances melt away. We laugh a little easier, we look with a little more wonder, we stop sweating the small stuff. What was initially a physical, concrete form of change and transformation takes on a mental and emotional aspect too. A vacation doesn’t just change your outer surroundings, it changes the inner workings too.

If you think I lead a charmed life, it’s probably no more charming than yours – I’ve just learned to treat it a little differently. Yes, there are costs to such a lifestyle (American Express can back me up on that), but for peace of mind, for happiness and contentment, well, it’s worth it. There’s enough sadness and anger and insanity in this world. Why begrudge yourself a little fun in the midst of such madness? Take a vacation – starting today, and starting again on Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday… and …

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Hazy Shade of Summer

On certain summer afternoons, when the sun is slanting just so, and the breeze is warm but not hot, there is a feeling of ripeness and ethereal wonder. Through eyes hazy with sun and chlorine, the light dances on the water, bending through the banded zebra grass or alighting on the shiny chrome of a ladder.

The sun, after enchanting you all day, can be a dangerous thing. It plays tricks on the senses, lulling and deceiving, in conspiracy with the water, as it laps at your skin, seductively calling you to play. Why would you ever refuse? It’s impossible to say no to summer.
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Drowned (And Possibly Possessed) iPhone

Thanks to the forces of a full moon, Sunday proved a very trying day. Not content to have my back thrown out, or my nephew pee on the patio, the universe also conspired to have my iPhone plop into the pool. Strangely enough, I was NOT taking pictures of myself at the time (I’d finished doing that earlier in the day). I was simply moving it, placing it on top of the book in my hand as I walked by the shallow end, and it slipped right in. I jumped in and pulled it out within seconds, but the damage was done.

The recommended course of action is to place it in a bag of rice and seal it up, so the rice can pull the moisture out. The only question was: white or brown rice? I ended up opting for the latter, as seen in these photos. A few hours later, I went to check on the phone, and in the dim bedroom the bag was glowing orange. What kind of E.T.-phone-home-bullshit was this? It cast an eerie glow, like it was possessed, powering up a life of its own. It was warm to the touch – maybe its survival instincts were kicking in, as it tried to dry itself of its own accord. Whatever the case, it was unsettling. And it didn’t go off when I tried to power it down either. I left it there, alone in the cool dark, glowing strangely, either in death throes or rebirth.

The next morning, the glow was gone. I tried to turn it on, and it indicated a low-battery. This was a good sign, or so I thought. I plugged it into the charger and let it charge for a few hours. And then… nothing. If this is the universe’s way of telling me that I’m too dependent on my phone, I didn’t need the message.

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First Summer Recap

The week that turned into summer has just passed, and what a week it was. Beginning in New York City with my Mom and Suzie, and finishing up with my Mom and niece and nephew, it was a wonderful start to the season.

There’s no better way to kick-off a summer of fun than with a musical, or two. In this case, it was the amazing ‘Kinky Boots’ and the death-defying ‘Pippin’.

The gardens continued their show, with a rose in the rain and the fragrant mock-orange.

Madonna premiered her MDNA Tour film in New York, but my focus was back on her 1985 song ‘Crazy For You’.

The parade of boys for the summer began with JP Calderon, Chris Fawcett, and Tomas Brand.

And last but most certainly not least, cocktail time consisted of the Southside and the piña colada.

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The Pool

The day begins with promise, as most summer days do. The sun is already high overhead when I make my way out of the dim, cool recesses of the house and open the door to the backyard patio. Watchful of the robins who have made a nest in the nearby weeping cherry (and their brood of three squeaking babies), I pull out a lawn chair and position it beneath the sun. It seems such a silly thing to do – to just lie there in the heat – but there are sensual pleasures to be found in the stillness and the quiet. Besides, Tom Ford once said that tan lines are sexy, and if anyone knows sexy, it’s him. And so I work on my tan, book in hand, squinting at the pages in the bright unrelenting sun.

The day passes. In between dips in the pool, I water the garden. The robins hem and haw a bit, but they have not resorted to air attacks just yet, and I’m hopeful we may have reached a truce in this uneasy cohabitation in the backyard. A hawk circles high overhead, and I eye the cherry tree, wondering if the little ones will be safe. No one is safe in this world, not even in the summer.

Slowly making its arc in the sky, the sun shifts and settles low in the West. It’s almost time for dinner, and errands. One last lap in the water, and then I must retreat inside. It’s been a beautiful day, and the only thing better than a sunny summer day, is a super-moony summer night.

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Pool Day

Forgive the lack of meaningful posts of late, but that looks to continue tomorrow. It’s simply too nice out to stay inside typing away on a lap-top. Or typing away outside for that matter. So for now, and perhaps tomorrow, you’re going to have to deal with shameless re-hashes like this Summer Picture collection. You’ve seen it all before, but look at it again until I’m out of the pool.

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The Drugs Don’t Work

Some magazine once named this one of the saddest songs in the world. Or maybe it was the most depressing. Whatever it was, it wasn’t exactly an uplifting sentiment, but some days that’s what life deals you.

 

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About to Get Kinky

Coming up: my review of ‘Kinky Boots’ – the show that just won the Tony for Best Musical – and the best musical I’ve seen in a decade. Here are the six rules gleaned from the grand finale:

1. Pursue the truth.

2. Learn something new.

3. Accept yourself, and you’ll accept others too.

4. Let love shine.

5. Let pride be your guide.

6. You change the world when you change your mind.

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Lazy Ass Monday Recap

Having spent an amazing weekend in NYC with my Mom and best friend (details to come), I’m a bit tired out to post much right now, but I’ll do the usual Monday morning recap, just don’t look too deeply for inspiration.

A man from the past returned for a brief encounter, only to remind me of last summer.

Green was the color of the week, represented by the lady’s mantle, chives, and the celadon poppy.

Also, the green fairy dripped into The Fascinator.

The Hunks of the Day were represented by this unrelated trio of men: Ian Ziering, Neil Patrick Harris, and Oguchi Onyewu.

And finally, another installment of a relatively secret project.

 

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Happy Father’s Day

Sometimes I think that being a Dad might be the hardest job in the world. Yes, it’s usually the thankless role of being a mother that gets all the hardest-job-in-the-world accolades, but every so often I wonder about what it takes to be a father, especially today. I know I could never do it. But my Dad and my brother are both fine examples of how it can be done – if not perfectly, at least pretty damn well. That’s the problem with Dads – they’re never perfect, and their sons never let them forget it. Hopefully I’ve shown my Dad that, imperfections and all, I love him. Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads out all – especially mine.

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On the Train for Reno

At the moment of this writing, I’m ensconced in a hotel on the upper East Side, winding down from a double dose of musical theater with Mom. As such, today’s posts will be light, if they arrive at all. Stay tuned. We’re doing this in real time… Hold onto your hats!

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The Summer Before

It all came flooding back the other day, when I was spending a lunch on a cobblestone street in downtown Albany, practicing selfies for my new Instagram account. The man rounded the corner and caught me off-guard. I pretended to be doing something else with my phone, though with arm extended and stupid smile on my face I’m sure he figured out what was going on. He smiled and said hello. At first it didn’t register. Was he someone from work? Was he a bartender from a place I patronized? Or, worse, was he someone I slept with in my early twenties? In a bathroom no less? Suddenly I remembered. A cool courtroom. A few blocks away. At this time last year.

He was the prosecutor for the murder trial on which I served as a juror. And then the floodgates opened up to a host of memories – pleasant and unpleasant that comprised the days before, after, and during that trial. A Gay Pride weekend in Boston with my friend Kiera right before I reported for duty. A hawk screaming wildly in my backyard. A vodka stinger, straight up and torturously strong.

In that week or so, I lived another life, cut off from communicating with friends and family, listening to lawyers and witnesses and doctors, and trying vainly to make sense of how one person could kill another person, whether by accident or intent. It took a few months to do much of the processing it took to get over it, and I had to come to terms with the fact that it may not be something you ever really get over. There are things that may haunt us forever, stains that are impossible to eradicate. This may be one of those things, resurfacing with a vaguely familiar face, a certain time of year, a specific location. It never goes away, does it? Even at the start of summer.

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Break Free From the Chains

I hold the lock and you hold the key…

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