Monday, March 15, 2010

Turn It On Again

Looking back at the long list of men that have set up residence in my ever vast imagination, (there's always a flashing "vacancy" sign---newcomers welcome!) I have to say that one group in particular has earned the most frequent guest reward miles. There have been men in cars, men on skis, men in uniform; but none beat the tried and true favorites that never seem to let you down: Men On Screen.

My first love was Bobby Brady of the infamous "Bunch." My five year old eyes stared longingly at his dark hair and spattering of freckles; our Happily ever After separated only by the thick glass barrier of my parents' Zenith console. I daydreamed of being a Kindergarten Bride and joining his already overcrowded family. (I think as newlyweds we should've been allowed Greg's attic room)and I'd learn to cook pancakes and change diapers for our babies, who would be lovingly hand delivered by the stork within days of the wedding.

Faithful readers of this blog know that when it comes to the opposite sex, I have the attention span of a hunting dog on No-Doz. When I tired of whiny Bobby I moved on to Will Robinson of "Lost in Space," Nicholas Bradford of "Eight is Enough" and during a particularly energetic summer of 1979, I proclaimed undying devotion for every boy cast member of "Zoom."

Through the years this long-distance crush with Hollywood continued to blossom, and like most plants, it grew several large diseased weeds. As one half of my pre-adolescent dreamt of being Ricky Schroder's steady girl, the other half wondered what it would be like to tour with Menudo. Jr High brought Tiger Beat Magazine and armed with a roving eye and safety scissors my bedroom walls were soon papered with incomparable studs such as Johnny Depp, River Phoenix and Andre Gower. Even as the phone rang with boys from the neighborhood, my mind would invariably drift to Corey Feldman's favorite pizza topping.

You really can't blame me. Every woman (and probably man) knows that if we had to choose between the local dating pool and the two-dimensional guy on the IMAX screen, we're going to choose the latter. Think about it: guys in movies and magazines are always well groomed, cultured, full of clever witticisms and never leave the toilet seat up. They're rich, have impeccable manners and the word tardiness isn't in their vocabulary. Oh yeah, and they love the mall, especially the Chanel store.

The movies that we film in our mind are the best escape route we have, ans as we get older the plot lines change to fit the present needs. What started out as Bobby Brady carrying me off on a horse through a field of English wildflowers has morphed into Ryan Reynolds bending me over a room service cart in a suite at the Malibu Four Seasons.

I'll admit, there's nothing like the real thing, but sometimes a diversion is good for the spirit. Which is why even nowadays I'll allow my mind to drift to a far away place where ice cream has no calories, bikini waxes are painless, and every GQ model is at my beck and call. Hey, maybe I've just discovered what heaven is all about!

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