December 12, 2022
Greetings from the aspirant,
Recently I was in a grocery store where I was waiting patiently in line. (One of those words is a lie but does not detract from the story.) I noticed the usual magazines in the racks there, while I was trying to ignore the people ignoring the ‘15 or Fewer’ sign over the express lane.
On every rack was People magazine, which featured the Sexiest Man Alive. Like all of us, I was happy for the winner, even though I didn’t vote for him. It really is quite an accomplishment, to win first prize, among 4 billion contestants, in this very specific category.
I only rarely see People magazine, usually in the doctor’s office, where I won’t touch them because I don’t want to catch anything. (Not talking about germs here.) Although if banality were contagious my wife would not sit next to me on the plane.
For those of you who are pretending to not know what People magazine is, (I know, you only read Architectural Digest) it is one of the many ‘entertainment’ magazines whose role is to track the better lives of the glitterati. (Glitterati is a made-up word that combines ‘glitter’ which means “shining reflected light”, and ‘literati’ which means “well-educated people interested in literature”. I will define irony later.)
These shiny smart people are acting in movies and singing songs and creating reasons to be famous or seen to be famous which is almost the same thing. There are so many of them there needs to be a catalog to keep track of them and their various famousness and associated activities, which seem mostly to be arriving at award ceremonies where they have been nominated, which is an honor. Hence, People Magazine.
Among People’s raison d’etre, is the annual ‘Sexiest’ cover. By the time I was making my purchase in the grocery store, resisting the bland candy selection almost completely, I was determined to find out how the winner is chosen in this contest.
My research, which I did mostly with my eyes closed yesterday, shows that the process of electing the sexiest male currently-not-dead is not open to public vote. It is done somewhat arbitrarily by the people at People. The People people have a loosely defined metric of who is glittery, doing well, nice, and of course sexy.
Throughout the year the People people accumulate names of the sexiest, and then in a ritual that involves a magic hat and a Cray computer, they choose a man (part of the title) who is either brooding or smiling, but always hunky. (‘Hunky’ is as hard to define as ‘sexy’, so I won’t pull us into that philosophical vortex here.)
It may seem as though I am disparaging People magazine, so this next sentence may seem hypocritical, and for good reason. I want to be nominated for Sexiest Man Alive.
I’ll pause here so that you may recover from laughing. Or retching.
It may be that I am not qualified, although I have been seen smiling and brooding, and while I am not hunky, per se, I do have a certain ‘Je ne sais quoi’. And I can put three languages in one sentence, which I dare say is two, or three, more than some other nominees.
I realize the chances of me winning the title are as likely as the Pulitzer (pronounced pʊlɪtsər) (not awarded by People, but some other magazine) but all that matters is that I can add ‘Nominated for Sexiest Man Alive’ to my resume. If you want to nominate me for Pulitzer while you’re at it, I won’t resist.
To get the process started I think you can call the Editor in Chief at People, send her an email, or simply say “Alexa, nominate David Smith as Sexiest Man Alive.” That will do it.
Of course you realize this is all silly egotistical nonsense, which is also the title of the musical I’m writing, for which I hope to be nominated a Tony and a People’s Choice, (not affiliated with People Magazine or People’s Republic of China). Now what to wear on the red carpet: smile or brood?
Hope this finds you sexy,
David
Copyright © 2022 David Smith
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