The Sexiest Bachelor in America

Of course I watched the televised search for the Sexiest Bachelor in America. I was duty-bound -- and genetically predisposed -- as a warm-blooded American gayboy to tune in, with the same rapt fascination with which I used to greet the annual "Sex in the Cinema" issue of Playboy during my pre-adolescent "discovery phase". I watched, however, not with lust but with a sociological detachment, intending to switch the channel after I'd ascertained just how many of the contestants were destined to remain "bachelors" unless they were willing to relocate to Vermont.

(Twenty-six, by my count, including three of the finalists.)

By the time the two-hour special was over, my gaydar was being activated so often, it was causing RF interference with the neighbor kids' PlayStation. I'd managed to spot two queer college classmates who'd moved west, the ex- of an ex-, and at least two contestants whose carriage and demeanor screamed "Mary!" so loudly you'd have thought they were Valerie Harper. This is, of course, not even counting Caroline Rhea, the hostess of the Twinkies. She's practically an honorary gay man herself.

I am now waiting for the Fox network to really gild the lily -- or, perhaps more aptly, beard the boy -- by combining one flop and one middling pageant to create "Who Wants to Marry the Sexiest Bachelor in America?" I'd check it out...for the sociologically interesting aspects, of course.

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