Thursday, November 29, 2012

Man Crushes, Part 1

Great Idea. Having Nadia and Sofia wax lovingly and critically (these words are actually synonyms in most Mediterranean based languages btw) about young Nate Silver seems to be far less creepy than me talking about my man-crush for him. So we'll make that the palette cleanser after I do:

The wife has been remarkably understanding about my Man Crushes. Most likely because her first experience with one created the false impression that they were harmless. I was hypnotized by the evil tiger (Tai Lung) in Kung Fu Panda. When the credits rolled and I saw that the voice was Ian McShane, Deadwood's Al Swearengen, it made sense.

How is it that people whose home countries were so thoroughly and permanently screwed up by British Colonial rule can still be anglophiles? And what does it further say about me that my man-crush anglophilia is mostly directed at English actors (McShane as Swearengen, Shane Taylor as Eugene Roe in Band of Brothers) speaking in American accents?

I figured I would go with a less obvious Band of Brothers man-crush than Damian Lewis as Dick Winters. Seeing as he's now on some hit TV show (Homeland) that I have not seen, but understand that he may or may not be working for an Arab terrorist, that one I should best keep to myself.

The only man-crush I have on a man who speaks in an English accent is Jamie Oliver. His cookbooks are part of the appeal, the recipes are are simple and delicious - the man encourages the use of Indian curry paste from a jar and even gives instruction on how to scramble eggs just in case you've been doing it wrong all this time. But other than the occasional bit of slang in his recipes (brilliant and sarnie), its not like I’m attempting an Essex accent while cooking with them. 

The appeal of him being an EnglishMAN is due to who he is not. He is not the over-the-top American alpha-male celebrity chef, nor is he Englishwoman Nigella Lawson, who causes me to feel an uncomfortable tingle down there every time I hear her speak.

Hearing Steve Inskeep's awkward flirting with her during NPR segments, you imagine the way she talks about food is the same way she talks about sex. Far be it me to question her very successful business model, but let's just say I prefer to keep my attention focused on the room in the house where I am less incompetent. Another difference between food and sex is that it is far less expensive, and far more legal, to pay a professional to show you how the former should be done right.

When I lived in Virginia, my neighbor would regale me with some of her exploits, much to my confusion. I think it was there that I developed my aversion to mixing food with sex.

Her: There is nothing better than licking whipped cream off someone during sex

Me: Wouldn't that get stuck in the chest hair? <pause> Oh, on the girl, right.

Anyway, where was I?  Yes, all of these crushes pale in comparison to my nerd envy of young mister Silver. I mean I am the man who chose his graduate school major on the basis that "I had all the other nerd attributes, poor social skills, fear of women, I just needed to get better at math."

So for young Mister Silver to have reached the pinnacle of my "profession”, when all I ever do is just move numbers around in spreadsheets.  Other than emulating a teenage girl watching the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

I'm sure Nadia and Sofia would. But all I can think of right now are the lazy ones:

Silver? Why so modest? I understand Gold maybe a little too cliché, but Platinum! Titanium! You've earned it.
Silver is extending his relationship with The Old Gray Lady? Isn’t she too old to give him children?

–Nadia

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