Hair Down There

I’ve noticed that the popularity of the first name Harry has plummeted the last few decades. I’m 24 and I can’t recall ever meeting a man named Harry in my age group. The reason being that Harry is a blatant lightning rod for ridicule these days, especially when paired with a cheeky last name such as Butts, Johnson, or McVagina.

Past generations had no qualms with the Harry/ hairy association because less fuss was made about excessive body hair decades ago. Allow me to prove a point using the great American reference point of celebrities. Burt Reynolds was an icon of masculine virility in the 1970s, and behind his black mane of chest hair, we can only assume that he had nipples. Sexy, sexy man nipples. In the 2000s, however, chest hair has become the subject of comedic high jinx, as depicted in "The 40-Year-Old Virgin," starring Steve Carrel, who is average-looking and far too funny to be considered a sex symbol. Who is this era’s icon of masculine virility? The chest-waxing, jogging topless on the beach grinning widely because he’s stoned out of his mind Matthew McConaughey, of course.

I’d love to see a movie based on the premise of ‘70s Burt Reynolds trading places with modern day Matthew McConaughey. (Like most great ideas, time machines factor into this one.) Transposed in the other’s niche, Burt would strike out with the ladies at P. Diddy’s pre-Super Bowl pool party, his penis crestfallen, perplexed by the recurrence of the insult, "Nasty Sasquatch."

Modern day McConaughey would strut around Studio 54...

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