Further thanks and gratitude to Victoria Beckham (still and always my favorite Spice Girl) whose social media posts occasionally and tantalizingly feature her husband David Beckham, who has been woefully absent from these posts of late. Let’s change that up and revisit the history of the man seen in the links below:
We want so badly to name and label everything around us, like the color of these azaleas. As an annoying Virgo, I understand the desire to organize the world into the known and the explainable. As someone who also understands how annoying that trait can be, I strive to embrace the frayed edges, the not-so-neat areas of haze and imprecision. And so I present these azaleas, without name or specific color designation, as seen on a lunch-time walk. That’s all, and that’s enough.
Saddled with an unfortunate clunker of a name, these Ranunculus deserve a better title, or maybe we just need to embrace the beauty of all names. These flowers have slowly been wilting away since our Purple Reign weekend – at the time of this writing there is only one left intact. Circle of life. Quick pretty hit and run. Back to life, back to reality… End of blog post.
You probably have’t noticed, but I’ve been stepping away from this blog and social media and even texting because, quite frankly, I’m sick of it all. More importantly, I’ve also been focusing on living, rather than writing about life, or sharing things on social media. It’s made for a much better head-space, a much happier countenance. If you are one of the few who have missed me, thank you. It’s nice to be missed.
It’s nice to be out there living too.
It comes down to a simple choice.
‘The Shawshank Redemption’ is one of those movies that has haunted me since the first time I saw it in the theater. (Yes, I was old to see it in the theater when it was originally released.) It’s one of those magical Zen-like movies that manages to lull one into a sense of calm and serenity despite its brutal savagery. I return to it, and the spell of its words, every couple of years, finding new scenes of revelation and grace amid its stark backdrop.
It reminds me to get out of my head, to get out of the prison of the mind, the prison of this online world. It instructs me to get out and get busy living – because the only way out is through. At those times, at those moments, I rejoin the living and reconnect to the world – our gorgeously imperfect and exquisitely flaw-filled world, with all its beauty and heartbreaking joy.
And if you’ll excuse me, and allow me such grace, I will step back from time to time, and stretch those step-backs out a little longer as the days and years pass, because no matter how much we sparkle, no matter how much we shine, sooner or later we all fade away.
I never meant to cause you any sorrow I never meant to cause you any pain I only wanted one time to see you laughing I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain
I met my friend Ann way back in 7th grade, circa 1987, and a year later we had hit it off, sharing most of the honor courses in middle school and high school. We had similar senses of humor, finding the ridiculousness in so much of life, particularly the life of a teenager, and we held onto each other in the kinship of misfit outsiders. Life wreaked its ruthless havoc on us, and as the world pummeled us for not seeming to belong, we found safety and security in one another. Our friendship was a life-sustaining force for me during my late teenage years, and she would be there when no one else could. That laid the history and groundwork for a lifelong friendship, and though it’s been about a decade since we’ve seen each other in person, through letters and texts and correspondence, we’ve kept in touch, and that friendship has never wavered.
“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”
The last few times we’ve seen each other have been for funerals, and that’s no way to see a dear friend. This reunion was a very long time coming, and as Ann would later point out, it was precisely what we needed without realizing how badly we needed it.
Honey I know, I know, I know times are changing It’s time we all reach out for something new That means you too You say you want a leader But you can’t seem to make up your mind I think you better close it And let me guide you to the purple rain
We spent the day catching up and talking, shifting our little groups as Andy joined in after a Lowe’s grill mix-up (still awaiting a call back from that manager, days later) and soon – too soon – it was time for bed. There’s no way I can properly convey how lovely this weekend was for us – as our world grows ever dimmer, simply being with good friends is good for the soul. Both Ann and Josie have been two of those ‘safe’ friends whom I consider family – the very few people I trust implicitly and around whom I can completely let down my guard and entirely be myself. Those friends are few and far between, but whenever we get to share time and space, it reaffirms my hope and faith in the world.
“It’s all happening!”
Having reconnected, and introduced Ann and Josie officially to each other, we are looking ahead to doing this again sooner rather than later. We’ve all lost people near and dear to us, and I think we feel the precious passing of hours, aware that time together is more important now than ever.
So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills You know the one Dr. Everything’ll Be Alright Instead of asking him how much of your time is left Ask him how much of your mind, baby
‘Cause in this life Things are much harder than in the afterworld In this life You’re on your own
And if the elevator tries to bring you down Go crazy!!!
Setting up our Purple Reign weekend was a labor of love, designed to be the first meeting of two of my besties who had become friends in their own right, and the first time I’d seen Ann in what may well be over a decade. It all felt too good to be true, and so we charged ahead, hyping it with purple boxes announcing the Purple Reign theme, with loads of lavender, lots of purple love, and a soundtrack largely by Prince (with some healthy doses of Madonna and Bon Jovi thrown in for 80’s pleasure).
We would spend the weekend defying the notion of the opening intro that ‘in this life, you’re on your own’ – because on this weekend, we were in it together. More to come…
Dr. Everything’ll-Be-All-Right
Will make everything go wrong Pills and thrills and daffodils will kill Hang tough, children He’s coming
He’s coming
Coming…
Susan Brumley has what I consider to be the perfect FaceBook page. She is real and honest, yet errs on the side of what’s hopeful and positive and good. She calls herself out for when she realizes she’s being cranky, works on being ever-present and mindful, and has a witty and wicked sense of humor about life and herself that brightens my world every time I see one of her posts. For that alone she would easily earn this Dazzler of the Day, but she’s also been a company manager for an entire slew of Broadway and touring shows including ‘The Book of Mormon’, ‘Evita’, ‘Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812‘, ‘Sister Act’, ‘Hairspray’ and her current stint at the ‘Hamilton’ Phillip Tour. (She’s often the sole person I consult when plotting out any shows I’m considering attending.)
I remember Susan from grade school and middle school, where she was a grade ahead of me, and one of the smartest people in her class, if not the entire school. Such intelligence thrilled and impressed me, and when she started anchoring the student news programs that opened the day at Wilbur H. Lynch Middle School, I was even more dazzled. She was an inspiration because I thought she would charge into life being whatever she wanted to be, and it looks like that is exactly what she’s achieved.
It is a moment where tears fill the eyes but never drop.
It is sad in its way, but the overriding feeling is one of happiness, and a joy in that it all happened.
A happy almost-cry, if you will.
It’s the quiet and stillness when dear friends who have been visiting for a weekend depart – usually in the morning – and it always strikes me with its return to silence. The beauty and contentment of a newly-made memory…
It’s a time when remnants of dear friends still linger – the faded scent of their perfume, the last glass of water they used, the silly trio of heart-shaped sunglasses that sits on a spent table scattered with birthday cake crumbs.
At such a moment, when Ann and Josie had just left after a ‘Purple Reign’ Birthday weekend that was ideal in just about every way, I stand in the living room, watch the sunlight of a brilliant spring day, and this song comes over the radio – a piano arrangement of Debussy’s ‘Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun’ – fittingly capturing the very start of something, even as it’s the very ending.
As I watch JoAnn pull out of the driveway and give a little beep, I wave, holding my hand up even after she is gone, and I remember that last episode of the ‘The Golden Girls‘ when Sophia is looking at photo of Blanche and Rose and quietly says, ‘Goodbye my girls‘ after they have decided to stay together. (And you didn’t think this blog could get any gayer.)
This music feels right, because while the beginning of the piece perfectly captures that quiet and stillness, the rest is all about setting the scene for an entire new story to come, and a tale to be told that brings back decades of friendship and history. For now, I take in the beauty of the moment, the promise of a spring day, and the memory of some very dear friends.
There have aways been people who have whispered, or shouted out loud, their complaints that the LGBTQ+ community has to proclaim their identity over and over again when most people don’t even care about someone’s sexuality. Those people must live largely ignorant and unaware lives where they don’t see the hatred and homophobia still running rampant, and given a new lease on acceptability with a certain political party’s current leaders. As a gay man, I’m keenly aware that there is a resurgence in homophobia, sanctioned by the GOP Presidential candidate that trickles down to all the other GOP candidates who seem to be ok with stepping in line with a criminal. What a sad and far cry from the Republican Party of my parents.
Case in point is our Dazzler of the Day – brilliant author, activist and actor Maulik Pancholy, whose scheduled participation at an anti-bullying event was canceled by a Pennsylvania school board due to his “lifestyle”. Don’t tell me there isn’t a problem here, and don’t tell me we don’t need Pride Month and reminders that this sort of thing keeps happening no matter how much you might want to pretend it isn’t.
Rounding the final turn into the end of April, spring’s first full month is soon to come to a close. The old adage attributed to April – all those showers – has come to almost daily fruition. Best to move ahead, right after the weekly blog recap…
Nothing beats an impromptu stop for a milkshake with your fourteeen-year-old niece, which is just what transpired on my last visit to Amsterdam. We’d both already had dinner, so when I proposed ice cream we drove around for a bit before realizing none of the little ice cream places took American Express before settling on a chain that made milkshakes (according to Emi, Five Guys did a decent job, so I was game – and Route 30 has come a long way since the days when Dunkin Donuts was the shining star of stops in Amsterdam).
We sat in the window of the shop, each of us reminiscing about Polar Freeze – an ice cream memory we both shared from our respective childhoods – and I realized we fluently spoke the same language: the frivolous, heartbreaking, all-important and all-too-nonsensical language of a teenage girl. My tongue was a bit rusty, but I quickly found the rhythm, the gravitas and the drama of it all, punctuated by a few squeals and the occasional giggle.
The tulip is not a flower or bulb for the control freak at heart. Aside from a few truly perennial varieties, the bulbs are unreliable for the long-term, often sporting off and becoming something wholly different than their original incarnation, defying those gardeners who plan and plot their colors and bloom times with precision. Happily, I have never been one those gardeners. The garden is one of the only places I allow for a certain element of chaos and unpredictability. It’s a requirement if you want to truly enjoy the lessons that a garden has to impart.
Akin to their garden performance, the tulip flower is a bit unpredictable as well, particularly in an arrangement, where their stems will bend and twist according to what feels very much like wish and whim (they don’t necessarily follow the source of light). That makes for interesting effects, especially if you are willing to go with the flow and embrace some changeability.
