Greetings, KuKd/TTC Strong Mommas and Inquisitive Guests!
There is something to be said for seeking male hotness, even in the face of traumatic loss. Losing a baby can be so...dehumanizing. At least, I distinctly recall feeling like some sort of freakish subhuman, an embarrassment to the people around me, even the nurses shuffling in and out of my hospital room as I waited for labor to kick in. They didn't quite know what to say to me, and I couldn't blame them. I felt like some kind of otherly, oddly inferior being. Even a few of my friends shied away, probably wondering, what IS she?
For today's post, I am returning to the oh-so-riveting quest for hot men, our earlier conversation having left me with a sour, melancholy sense that there may NOT BE - in fact - any truly beautiful males left anymore. Nonsense! Now it's time to turn it around, to seek and collect hotness, despite Cosmo's dismal 2008 list, and end this discussion once and for all, on a more upbeat note.
In my proactive search for hotness, I had to dig far into the recesses of my brain, asking myself again and again, "WHO'S HOT?" Amazingly, I had trouble thinking of anyone in particular. There aren't any default faces that come to mind, other than old deceased movie stars. What's difficult, I suppose, is that the older I get, the more a person's character seems to become integrated into their physical appearance. I suppose the reason why Cosmo's men don't look so smashing to me is that they all have rather vapid, self-centered, look-at-me-I'm-gorgeous looks in their eyes. Which, ironically, cancels out their decent looks (for the record, I did scroll the Cosmo slide show once more, searching in earnest for someone worth staring at, but came up empty).
I did manage to come up with a few ones here, a rather odd and jumbled collection. And I've added a couple of women, too, to level out the gender playing field, and convince myself that I really can still see beauty where it is.
First, and this is SOOO cliche, but I have to admit that Leonardo DiCaprio is on my A-list. In my defense, it really wasn't until I saw him in a handful of post-Titanic films (including my favorite, "The Departed") that his beauty sank in. It wasn't his boyish Titanic charm that got to me; it was his later showing himself to be a skilled actor. Also, it was the pathetic, sexy character he played in "The Departed" that made my heart melt just a bit. Who WOULDN'T jump into save him and his tortured soul?
Moving on: it's not possible to leave Paul Newman out of the hotness category. I have no idea if this man is alive or dead. I do know that he aged gracefully, and makes decent salad dressing and puppy chow. It's the classically perfect face that I love, and that mouth...
Okay. This guy I KNOW is alive, because I just saw him play a bad, bad man in a bad, bad movie called "In Bruge." The moment I saw Ralph Fiennes, I was head over heels for that face, those smoldering eyes, the perpetual serious look. This guy doesn't smile much, but that's okay. Being a smiley person is not a prerequisite to being hot, as we all know. Remember him in "The English Patient?" I remember thinking, Kristen Scott Thomas, you lucky bee-yatch! Even in the role of King A-Hole Nazi in "Schindler's List," the most depressing of the depressing films, I recall thinking with squeamish, shameful discomfort that he still looked a tad bit hot.
Next, ahhhhh, River Phoenix. Remember him? Now THIS guy was the teen heartthrob of my era. He was the one taped to the inside of my locker, the one I fantasized about bumping into on the street, hoping that when I did, my hair would be flipped in JUST the right way to make me look my prettiest. River's cuteness began when he was just a young'un in "Stand By Me." Later, his hair grew out (um, a little TOO much), and his face remained pristine and perfect. He died of something stupid, drugs or booze or swallowed-up-into-his-own-handsomeness, and I was marginally upset when it happened. It was a superficial feeling of upsetness, for really, what had River ever done for me. Nothing, except grace the inside of my middle school locker. Still, I missed him, and sometimes still do. Zachary, is he up there with you?
Another wistful one would be the Brokeback Mountain guys, Heath Ledger and whatever-the-other-guy's-name-is. Okay, I loved them both the minute I saw them leaning sexily against a pick-up truck, the minute I knew that their characters were gay, and therefore untouchable. That whole movie made me wish I were a gay man, just so I could try to flirt with one or both of these outrageously good-looking, emotionally sensitive, yet rough-n-tough cowboyish specimens. This occurs frequently, this "untouchable" phenomenon, whereby you want something because you cannot have it. And when Heath passed away, it REALLY became untouchable(for the record, I think the brown-haired guy is a tad bit hotter, I must say, but I'm partial to darker looks).
Moving away from the Y and over toward X, I had to add a couple of women in here, because thinking of beautiful women was nowhere NEAR as hard as thinking of beautiful men. Just two, a short sampling. Sadly, though, in both cases the fact of their good looks seems to have gone to their heads, turning them into somewhat make-up laden, self-centered, boob-augmented, Botox-injected types. I have no proof of this; it's just the sense that I get from their paparazzi shots. Which means that they aren't women I would ever want to meet in person; just admire their jaw-dropping prettiness from afar:
First, Catherine Zeta-Jones, who - to me - is about as gorgeous as they come:
Next, I'm sorry to say: Jennifer Lopez, who has about zero talent in the acting and singing departments, but is achingly pretty. I'll give her that:
Finally, going back over to the male side for a moment (and I'll admit being slightly biased here), I have to give props to my main man, K. Again, it's the complete package here: the stellar inside, seeping out into the outside. You'd never know from this photograph what a good and beautiful heart he has, how truly "manly" he is in terms of stepping up to take responsibility for things that I refuse to be responsible for (like dragging the garbage bin out to the curb and balancing the checkbook). He has been by my side through everything scary in my life, and - to me - has that classic Irish look of Irishness.
So there you have it, Monica's humanizing list of hotties. Any others to add? I feel better already, somehow normalized, and ready to get on with my day.