Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Type...

I have been told I have a “type,” and that type is the gay pin-up. You know the guy; you’ve seen him on your local Christian Audigier billboard. He’s chiseled and handsome with just a hint of ruggedness: if he’s blond, he’s dirty blond and wears is cut close to his scalp; if he has a baby face, he hides it with a day or two of scruff; and if he’s preppy, he has skulls, not polo guys, on his collared shirts. They’re the kinds of guys of whom sexually confused boys all over the world keep photos hidden between the pages of a ne'er used Playboy.

I never really noticed it before—in fact, if asked directly, I always say I don’t have a type at all as long as the guy has nice arms, a nice smile, nice eyes, is taller than me (at 5’6’’, I don’t think that’s too much to ask!), and isn’t too hairy—oh, I see… Maybe this explains why I fall in and out of love so quickly with actors but have so few boyfriends that live outside of my new HD flat-screen. Seriously, my old blog entries read like some schoolgirl’s diary: “I found my future husband;” “It’s no wonder why I love him;” and simply “HOTTIE” are all actual headlines. I have committed to print and then rewritten my Top Five List more times than my formal-math-education-stopping-at-calculus will allow me to count.

Mark Wahlberg, in his infamous CK billboards (or any photo you may have snapped of him striping down to his tightie whities during a performance as the lead of the Funky Bunch) was—and in many ways, still is-- a prime example. Taped up in lockers, next to vanities, on ceilings, or in the case of Kathy Geiss, on the walls of a major television network’s corporate office, he consumed every waking moment of thought and was often the first thing you saw when you woke up in the morning and the last you did before you fell asleep-- in those cases where he was splayed and displayed on the ceiling, anyway.

However, growing up, for me Mark's appeal was always the good hair, nice eyes, big smile (yeah okay, the the rockin' bod!) whole package. The "bad boy" image-- well, that was just an image to me. Somehow I managed to convince myself that deep down, he was probably a sweetie. And because I was being weened on PG TV and its stars, I fell for that type time and time again. After all, the guy was best when he was a chameleon and could change his own image/style with my current mood.

After Mark there was Austin Peck, who played Austin on Days of our Lives. Though he appeared on the show in the shower quite often, and in just about every soap opera magazine posing without his shirt, and later even in Playgirl, working out on Santa Monica beach, he was not just a sex symbol; he was a good guy, too. He drew cartoons on his script pages, always took the time to play basketball or go over lines with the younger cast members, and spoke out openly and often that he was Born Again.

And I think we all know that Mark Paul Gosselaar (as the troublemaker Zack Morris-- hell, you can argue that even the impeccably-raised Jensen Ackles' turn as Colt-carrying Dean Winchester) fits into this mold nicely, too. Always adorable-- the kind of guys who could just grin their big toothy smiles and charm you out of being upset over whatever little misstep they may have made-- they still had the bad boy edge without being truly bad for you.

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