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Good lord. Like we need any more signs that the end of the millennium is heralding dark, dark times for our planet, the readers of New Woman magazine figure 68-year-old Sean Connery was the sexiest man of the last 100 years.
Not "the sexiest man who's been alive for almost a century" or "the sexiest man of the century, seniors' division" (though he predictably won that category, too) but simply the sexiest man of the century, period, end of sentence, please don't jostle my colostomy bag.
Other than the possible explanation that perhaps the surveys got mixed up with those of New Woman's sister publication, Old Woman, I can't pretend to understand why females find grandfather figures so appealing. Yes, Connery was James Bond once, but so was George Lazenby, and you don't see him winning sexiest anything, except maybe "sexiest guy named George who lives at the Lazenby residence." Unless there's a George Jr.
No sympathy vote?
And speaking of juniors, how did the late John F. Kennedy, Jr. not pull in the sympathy vote on this one? After Connery, the runners-up were Harrison Ford, "my man" (that being the survey entrant's man, not this writer's man. And please note that this writer does not have a man, nor is he looking for one, thanks very much), Mel Gibson (these women would pick their men over Mel? That helps explain something) and then the predictable parade of Brad Pitt, Robert Redford, Richard Gere, Paul Newman and Tom Cruise. No JFK Jr. Heck, barely anyone under the age of 50.
I'm not trying to be ageist here - I plan to be over 50 some day, in the hope sexiness increases with the loss of teeth, hair, sexual function, memory, smooth skin, general usefulness and will to live.
But since they were voting on the sexiest man of the entire century, what happened to the likes of Cary Grant and Clark Gable and the rest of the screen hunks of the days before you were allowed to show naked male butts in the movies? Or did I just answer my own question there?
Women's magazines scare me. Seriously. While I've never read New Woman, I frequently glance through issues of Cosmopolitan, mainly looking for naked models in cellulite cream ads.
Cosmopolitan is possibly the most evil periodical in the world, with the exception of Throwing Rocks at Puppies magazine. And at least when you read stories with titles like "Igneous, sedimentary or metamorphic - Which is best for bashing beagles?" you're not going to feel fat and sexually unfulfilled afterwards.
On a JAG
The readers of New Woman have some wacky tastes of their own, though. In the category of "the sexiest man in uniform" the first pick was JAG's David James Elliott, followed by "your UPS guy."
Your UPS guy? The guy in the dirt-brown uniform and boxy truck that looks like it warped over from some retro-future parallel universe? With the two most notable UPS guy-like figures in popular entertainment being the fat guy from TV's King of Queens and the grotesquely obese Fat Bastard from The Spy Who Shagged Me, I'd like to know exactly what sort of new woman is reading New Woman, and whether she has to use the audible signal button when she crosses the street.
But I guess Sean Connery winning the sexiest man of the century title isn't all that bad, given that he is cool, Scottish, a manly man, bald, a former James Bond, has hooked up with Catherine Zeta-Jones on screen and doesn't wear anything under his kilt.
If nothing else, it gives Pierce Brosnan something to look forward to when he's 93.