I was sitting on the beach with my friends in the Bahamas last week, sipping on a delightful tropical drink when one of my friends started rattling off a list of famous men that were her celebrity crushes. Her list was long and impressive. My other friend chimed in and offered up a couple of names. I said nothing. After a few seconds of silence, my big-listed friend turned to me and said, "How about you, DG? Who's your celebrity crush?". The two of them looked over at me, waiting for my response. I just blinked at them, mouth open like a trout, unsure of how to respond. Truth of the matter was, I didn't have one.
I sat silently for a moment, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't make me sound too much like a complete freak, but I had nothing. "I don't really have a celebrity crush," I began "I have never understood the appeal of beefcake." My friend with the long list looked at me with a tinge of pity and said "You need to see 'Magic Mike'. If you watch 'Magic Mike', you'll get what I'm talking about.". I looked down into my drink, trying to formulate an escape from the conversation. "I'm going to hit the bar. You want a refill?" She shielded her eyes from the sun, looked over at me and asked "Not even Channing Tatum?" I put my hand out for her to hand me her empty cup and shrugged. "No, not really." Then I turned on my heel and trudged through the sand toward the pool area.
As I walked toward the pool bar, I looked down at my feet, trying to drown out my surroundings and focus. I needed to think of someone, anyone that could represent a potential celebrity crush. I thought back to the type of guy that I was drawn to back in my single days and it almost never had to do with the physical aspect. For me it was about a vibe with someone, which kind if made it hard to have a crush on someone you didn't know. In general, I liked guys that were smart, charming, boyish, funny, artistic/creative and above all, nice. If they were cute, that was a bonus. I'd scarcely notice their cuteness if they didn't stack up against the other criteria first. I also thought about what I didn't like. Any and all of the following we're deal breakers:
- Big muscled roid heads
-Any guy with a shaved chest . Unless you are a professional swimmer, waxing is a no-no.
- Douchey. The second a guy calls me sweetheart or baby or points to me with that awkward pinky/pointer devil horn thing or drapes himself in gold jewelry, I'm out.
-Alpha male bullshit. If I want to see a chest beating ape, I'll go to the zoo.
I looked up as I approached the bar and the answer was right in front of me like a gift from the gods. At the snack bar next to the pool bar was a giant stand up cardboard cutout of Jimmy Fallon. Apparently, Fallon has a Ben and Jerry's ice cream flavor that they were selling. I did a quick cross-check against my old criteria:
Funny? Check! Check!
Was it really a crush? No, but it would serve as my offering and hopefully put the subject to rest. I paid for the drinks and made my way back toward the beach. About 3/4 of the way there, I stopped in my tracks. I thought back to the kind of guys that my friends were offering up. They were talking about Russell Crowe in Gladiator and muscle-y pretty boy types. I might have to forfeit my membership to the girl's club if I offer up a skinny late night host. I took a breath and reassured myself that I had to stand by my choice. It was an honest choice and it was important to be true to myself, even within this completely ridiculous context.
I returned to our beach chairs and passed out the drinks. "I've got one." I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster. They squinted and looked up at me. I blurted out "Jimmy Fallon!" . They just looked at me silently, for what seemed like an eternity. Then my beefcake loving pal broke the silence and says "Oh my god, me too! He's so cute and sweet and talented." I looked back at her, relieved that I passed the chick test and plopped down in my beach chair. The she added "Oh and Justin Timberlake, and..." I zoned out at that point. I had survived the battle, but I was clearly not armed for the war.
I'm sure you've seen this by now. I have to say, although I don't dig beefcake, I do appreciate when someone can laugh at himself and his image, which is what Channing Tatum does here. If only this had been done by Fallon instead of that other late night Jimmy, it would have been perfect.