My friend Teri has a great idea. Teri is somewhere in her fifties, married with a career and grandchildren. She is of an age where she is not looking seriously, but still desiring to celebrate the male form in its finest. She has a mental image of a “guy” calendar which displays ordinary guys that she knows. It is kind of a personal and private way to honor the hot guys you know and maybe even think about a little. For example, “That Scott, he is so yummy, I put him on March, a nice long month.”

Most of mine would be fully clothed. Unfortunately, most of the guys I think are hot are more because of their sense of humor, than their pecs. Now that I stay home, I don’t even know anyone to think of as hot, except maybe the produce guy at the grocery store. When I worked, that was another story. I worked in a field that was dominated by men, with mostly male customers. Now I would be hard pressed to get past Easter, with men I have seen in the past 12 months.

I was reminded of this because I had one of those pregnancy dreams last night. You know the ones you never have otherwise; (at least I don’t) sex dreams. It was a man I barely know, but he ran for political office last fall, and his picture was plastered everywhere, and a fine picture it was. Unfortunately we elected a clown instead. The other guy is now teaching a college course on world history at the school down the road. I would probably be too distracted to even pass the course, although I am sure it would be worth the money to fail. I think on my calendar, he would have his shirt mostly unbuttoned, standing by a horse. Mmmm. With any luck tonight will be a re-run!