Objectification

Senior Day was a big deal for the Scranton Central HS Class of 1965. After the morning Awards Assembly, the PTA sponsored a free lunch for us at the Century Club followed by an afternoon dance. It was a particularly big deal for me. I actually won the "Walking the Dog" dance contest. "Walking the Dog" was a dance fad of the day based on Rufus Thomas' recording of the same name. My dance partner, Ellen Levy, was the only person who knew how to do it and I was essentially along for the ride.

Still, that victory opened another potential career path to me. Maybe I could become a professional dancer. It wasn't all that difficult standing there while my female partner did all the work. Alas, primeval macho instinct kicked in, and my dancing career ended before it began.

Still, as I soldiered on in Korea and engineered my way through the swamps of New Orleans, I occasionally wondered whether abandoning a terpsichorean career was a mistake. At least, I'd be dancing indoors where there were fewer snakes and bugs than where I was engineering.

All doubts have ceased now. "Dancing With The Stars" issued awards at its 200th show earlier this week. I was shocked (shocked!) at the objectification of its male dancers. Awards were given TO GUYS for Biggest Dancer Transformation (won by the guy who used to have Fabio-style hair), Best Bleached Hair, Whitest Teeth, Best Hair Style, and Best Transformation From Scrawny to Buff.

Yo, DWTS! Females can be objectified, but not us guys. It brings on this urge toward physical fitness and improved personal grooming that cuts into our sports-watching and beer-drinking time. Limit male "beauty" awards to professional dancers, please.

Now I know that I could never have made it from Walking the Dog Champion to Dancing With The Stars Partner. I lack the hair, teeth, and, worst of all, went directly from scrawny to pot-bellied, bypassing buff.