Came across an interesting feature (where else?) on line "More than 100 Unforgettable Pin-Ups" that proving no one, to include the authors, actually reads anything any more, proceeded to be a ranking of the Top 50 memorable pin-ups. Perhaps Adult Attention Deficit Disorder is now so widespread, few noticed. (And because I did, I wonder, does that mean I Am Legend? What was the question, again? Perhaps not, sadly.)
The usual suspects were there--Shakira (whose appeal musically and otherwise has always eluded me), Tila Tequila (familiar with the beverage from a liberal college education-you want fries with that? Fogey that I am, no idea as to the person), Loni Anderson (the reason American males under the age of twenty-five watched W-K-R-P in the middle seventies; sorry, Dr. Johnny Fever), Lita Ford (who thought she, not Joan Jett, was the reason for The Runaways; as The Only Band That Matters sang, 'That's a Wrong 'em, Boyo'), Anna Kournikova (so much for athletic ability, eh?), and others about whom I either know absolutely nothing or far too much.
In and between are classics such as Rita Hayworth and Marilyn Monroe that, if nothing else, help underscore how often we men, for all of our visually stimulated prowess (I love psycho-babble) have become impoverished in the imagination department as the years have past. People who have legitimate concerns about posters (mostly of women as that's what I found) as objectifying (and thus dehumanizing) women would also note those of us who look or who read the magazines ''for the articles" and are very careful in how we remove the staples) have become lazier as the years have raced by.
The attractiveness of concealment, the coquetry of the flirtatious glance, the approximation of courtship are all bygones and past tenses here in the Brave New World. C'mon Joe, ya wanna give it a go? ' We all live happily ever after for the next forty-five minutes and sales of scotch tape sky-rocket.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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