31 May 07
I have noticed, of late, a distinct lack of covertness regarding the male appreciation of the female form. Being of that gender myself, I cannot deny that, upon the approach of a lady of pleasing aspect, one’s glance does occasionally wander in the general direction of a shapely calf, a plunging décolletage or a derrière reminiscent of the famous Ms Lopez. I do, however, hope that my glances are of a subtle quality such that I may not be perceived as pertaining to that class of human being known as Pervert, Letch or – God forbid! – Dirty Old Man (being thirty-four years on this Earth, it is debatable whether one can, in all honesty, except perhaps by those barely beyond teenhood, be referred to as “old,” but I would suggest that, in respect of such nomenclature, the degree of perceived lechery is directly proportional to the degree of perceived agedness).
Presuming for now that my own appreciative glances are seen to be as chaste and well-meant as they are intended, what of those of the male-folk to whom this missive is directed? I refer to those occasions on which a not-so-gentle-man may, for example, upon being passed by a lady in possession of delectable physical attributes, blatantly turn his head (or even, it has been known, his entire body), and cast such a lecherous and hungry stare at the poor pretty maiden, that she must surely, on some level of consciousness, feel as if she is actually being consumed. The indecorousness of it! How my masculine soul piques at witnessing such importunity! Beauty is, of course, whether it be in nature or commingled within the paint of a glorious work of art, to be looked at, noticed, stared at even – but surely, when the staree is a fellow human being, whose awareness of the staring may render her nervous, self-conscious or even, I dare say, fearful, then one should, at the very least, temper one’s “appreciation” to a more modest degree of conspicuity?
Alas, the moderation of which I speak is to be found all too infrequently, at least within the bounds of the city in which I presently abide. So what, of this matter, is to be concluded, or what action is to be taken, short of an observational rant, which may or may not be read by perhaps a dozen accidental perusers of this blog? I feel I must take a stand! As a gentleman of, it would seem, a higher than average level of decorum, where regards the regarding of the fairer sex, I feel it is my duty to call upon my fellow gentle-folk to rise above the milieu of overt lechery, to stay the massed gazes of lusty consumption, and to lobby the Powers That Be to impose taxes upon those who fail to fall within acceptable statutory boundaries of leeriness! Rise up, my fellows! Rise up, my troubadours, my knights, my princes of propriety! Rise up and be counted… and look directly forwards! (and lend only the subtlest of sideways glances at those pretty maidens who fall unbeknownst into one’s field of vision!) Be polite, be chivalrous… but most of all, be covert! Let us put the “gentle” back into “gentleman”!