I RECENTLY NOTICED that, once again, I was not voted the Sexiest Man Alive by People magazine.
George Clooney, who plays some sort of doctor on some sort of TV show, won the award, if you can imagine such a thing, which I obviously can't.
'Chiseled good looks
I don't know what George Clooney's got that I haven't got, except "chiseled, classic good looks," "rogue charm" and "his wonderful ability to make women go weak in the knees," to quote just a few of the shamelessly fawning comments made about him in the magazine.
Do not infer from this that I am the least little bit jealous of George Clooney stealing the Sexiest Man Alive title from me, because nothing could be further from the truth.
The way I see it, being voted Sexiest Man Alive would be more of a curse than a blessing, and I can do without any more curses.
Being a sex object is a full-time job and I am much too busy, what with naps and flossing and everything, to spend my time fending off the hordes of adoring females who saw my write-up in People magazine.
In the mornings, the way it is now, I can just slip on a pair of gym shorts and wheel the trash cans out to the curb without causing a big scene, unless you count the woman walking her dog who claimed my belly was a violation of the deed restrictions.
If I had been voted the Sexiest Man Alive, this would all change. I would need bodyguards every time I went out to fetch the newspaper.
I couldn't walk the pug without being mobbed by love-struck BTC women, some of them half my age, or even younger.
"Look! It's the Sexiest Man Alive!" one would coo.
"It's the bifocals that do it for me," another would whisper.
I don't know what happens to marriages in which the husband has been voted by People magazine the Sexiest Man Alive, but my guess is nothing good.
In 1993, People magazine departed from tradition and chose a Sexiest Couple Alive, Richard Gere and Cindy Crawford, who celebrated the honor by immediately filing for divorce.
I wouldn't want to put my wife in the position where she had to divorce me because I was "too sexy," which would have been a distinct possibility if People magazine had chosen me over George Clooney.
(There is no mention in the article of how close the vote was, which is probably just as well for Mr. Clooney's self-esteem.)
The People article did not specify what the duties and responsibilities are of the Sexiest Man Alive, but one must assume that they are considerable. What if you are caught clipping your toenails over the coffee table?
Is it permissible for the Sexiest Man Alive to wipe off the lawn mower with his wife's (or girlfriend's) best tea towel?
What would they do, take your crown away and give it to the first runner-up?
One has to wonder how any man could bear up under this kind of pressure, let alone a guy whose job qualifications consist of performing fake operations on TV.
But, hey, who am I to argue with People magazine?
David Grimes is a columnist for the Sarasota (Fla.) Herald-Tribune.
Pub Date: 12/01/97