Salon.com > Sarah Hepola http://www.salon.com Sun, 27 May 2012 00:00:00 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.2.1 Hit on the head http://www.salon.com/2012/05/18/hit_on_the_head/ http://www.salon.com/2012/05/18/hit_on_the_head/#comments Fri, 18 May 2012 23:00:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=12922550 When I saw the date of Charlotte’s wedding, I felt like I’d been hit on the head. What were the chances? Of all the days to get married – of all the cities to get married in – my friend had chosen the exact date that I met Nick, in the city that I met Nick.

I suspect most couples don’t know the exact date of their first encounter. But then most couples probably don’t have a police report.

It took me a few days to decide to contact Nick. I’d been wrestling with that urge for five years now. My inbox was a shame trail of gushy letters typed after midnight, impulsive notes dashed off in the afternoon. All of them had cutesy subject lines, like the titles of Raymond Carver stories, but they should have been labeled the same thing: “Do you love me again? Have you changed your mind yet?”

But one evening in March, I sent Nick an email. My hands were trembling as I typed. It was subject lined “things you may or may not remember,” and this is what it said:

“My friend Charlotte is getting married in New Orleans on May 13, and I will be going. May 13 also happens to be the day I met you, six years ago on Royal Street with a lump on my head the size of a lime. (Life is WEIRD, right?) I'd like to see you. Is that possible?”

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2012/05/18/hit_on_the_head/feed/ 31 Nobody ever calls me anymore http://www.salon.com/2012/05/04/nobody_ever_calls_me_anymore/ http://www.salon.com/2012/05/04/nobody_ever_calls_me_anymore/#comments Fri, 04 May 2012 23:30:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=12914952 As a teenager, my friend Jennifer used to sneak into her mother’s room after bedtime and steal the phone. She would call the boy she was dating, or “going with,” or whatever we called it back then, and they would talk all night, sometimes till 4 a.m.

But something shifted a few years ago. She became afraid of talking on the phone. Just hearing it ring could provoke panic. Maybe it was the suffocation of carrying her cellphone all day long. (“There are these tentacles in you all the time,” she said.) But she rarely answered the phone, preferring to text message, and the voice mail piled up like unopened bills dumped in a desk drawer – frightening and unknown and ever present -- until she couldn’t bear it anymore, and in a rush of guilt she would delete dozens of messages that had been left for her without even listening to them.

Sometimes she would text the person to find out what they needed: “Sorry I missed your call,” she would type, although technically she wasn’t, and technically she hadn’t. Instead, like so many people I know, she had simply stopped using her phone for the one purpose Edison intended: to speak to another person.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2012/05/04/nobody_ever_calls_me_anymore/feed/ 62 I always dated Tom Waits http://www.salon.com/2012/04/14/i_always_dated_tom_waits/ http://www.salon.com/2012/04/14/i_always_dated_tom_waits/#comments Sat, 14 Apr 2012 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=12864131 It was my college friend Jon who introduced me to Tom Waits. I was a freshman, and he was a sophomore, and we were hanging out a lot in those days, drinking coffee and Shiner Bock. Mostly I was waiting for Jon to decide he wanted to date me, which he never did, so we burned up hours in his studio apartment near campus arguing about theater and philosophy. On this particular night we had gotten so drunk or it had gotten so late that he made a tidy bed for me on the floor and we stayed up talking to each other across the dark.

His friend Andres was also there. Did I mention that? Well, I admit I didn't want Andres to be there, even though I loved him (but not in that way). Still, Andres did kind of love me in that way, so there we were, a trio of thwarted desire lying in our separate beds, and that's when Jon introduced me to Tom Waits.

It might be more accurate to say he presented me with Tom Waits. There was enough buildup for British royalty. Shhh. Stop moving. Listen to this part. Did you hear that line? I wish I could remember the song, but I suspect it was early lounge singer Tom Waits. Funny and broken and three sheets to the wind.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2012/04/14/i_always_dated_tom_waits/feed/ 48 Surprised to see me http://www.salon.com/2012/03/25/surprised_to_see_me/ http://www.salon.com/2012/03/25/surprised_to_see_me/#comments Sun, 25 Mar 2012 13:00:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=12727881 It's funny what you notice when you lose 40 pounds. I have noticed, for instance, that it is much easier to get dressed when your clothes actually fit. I have noticed the way certain bones feel underneath my hands (my rib cage, my pelvis) or how I look in the mirrored glass of a store I am passing. I have also noticed how people react to me. Mostly, I have noticed what they say.

"You look healthy!" they exclaim, giving me a hug, or grabbing my shoulders like an aunt at a family reunion. They say it so often and with such enthusiasm that it can have the inverse effect of upsetting me. I can't help wondering how unhealthy I used to look.

"People won't stop telling me I look healthy," I complained to my friend Mary.

She laughed. "Those assholes."

Don't get me wrong: I love compliments. But I feel a stab of mortification for the bloated, slightly sweaty woman who thought she had everyone fooled with Target hoodies and elastic waistbands. I have spent a lifetime hoping no one noticed my weight, and so it is a special terror that everyone now does. I tend to deflect in these moments. I say things like, "It's amazing what you can accomplish when you stop burying your misery in Chipotle burritos." Or I pass the weight loss off to quitting drinking, which is not a lie, since I was a beer-binger who could put away a six-pack on a Tuesday. (It's hard to keep your girlish figure when even a casual night out includes 2,000 calories in sheer lager.)

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2012/03/25/surprised_to_see_me/feed/ 90 My fake online boyfriend http://www.salon.com/2012/03/20/my_fake_online_boyfriend/ http://www.salon.com/2012/03/20/my_fake_online_boyfriend/#comments Tue, 20 Mar 2012 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=12701751 It was the evening he canceled our first date that I began to suspect Todd was not a real person. I was drifting off to sleep when the idea dive-bombed into my brain: That guy is a fake. I thought about his dating profile photo -- the Hollywood good looks, the grin of a man accustomed to winning. I thought about the vague fog of his profile, which mentioned exactly none of the accomplishments he told me about in our marathon phone conversations.

"Isn't it strange that his profile doesn't say that he played professional soccer in Germany?" I asked my friend Mary the following day. I was sitting in her kitchen chair, where I often park myself as the two of us try to untangle some romantic mystery.

"He told you he played soccer in Germany?" She stifled a laugh. "And you believed him?"

I believed him. Over the next two weeks, as the bizarre story of Todd unfolded, this was the humbling phrase I would be forced to repeat. Yes, I believed him. I believed that he was a wealthy entrepreneur who had started his first company at the age of 20. I believed that he got a soccer scholarship to a liberal arts college in upstate New York and later traveled all over Europe. I believed that he had a daughter, and that she had sparkling blue eyes, and that she liked cats and pirates. I believed these things because -- well, because he told them to me. (Todd is not his real name, by the way.)

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2012/03/20/my_fake_online_boyfriend/feed/ 106 Whitney Houston’s lessons in love http://www.salon.com/2012/02/13/whitney_houstons_lessons_in_love/ http://www.salon.com/2012/02/13/whitney_houstons_lessons_in_love/#comments Mon, 13 Feb 2012 16:13:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=12348141 In seventh grade I owned the cassette tape of "Whitney," the second album by Whitney Houston, which was true of pretty much every 12-year-old female in America. I played the hell out of that tape. I used to spend afternoons in my bedroom, lip-syncing those songs to my bedroom wall, because that's the kind of kid I was. Always longing for an imaginary audience. I did not want to be a writer back then, or the president of the United States. I wanted to be a pop star. And in 1987, there wasn't any pop star more elegant or talented than Whitney Houston. Daughter of a gospel singer, cousin of an R&B legend, smashingly beautiful -- she was practically anointed by the gods for greatness.

The song I loved the most on that tape was "Didn't We Almost Have It All." Fourth song, first side. I would perform the song to the wall, then rewind it and perform it again. Play, rewind, repeat. I can still hear the squiggle of the tape in my head as I pressed on the jam-box button just long enough to find the song's opening once more. This is a lost art in the age of the iPod, but back then, knowing how many seconds to rewind a cassette was a sign you truly understood its rhythms. You had literally learned the music backward and forward.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2012/02/13/whitney_houstons_lessons_in_love/feed/ 24 My iPhone foreclosure http://www.salon.com/2011/10/14/my_iphone_foreclosure/ http://www.salon.com/2011/10/14/my_iphone_foreclosure/#comments Fri, 14 Oct 2011 17:25:00 +0000 http://www.origin.railrode.net/?p=10113298 Last Saturday night at 10 p.m., I parked my car in the driveway, hustled myself inside as it began to rain, and locked the door behind me when I realized: I did not have my iPhone.

So weird. I'd just had it, like, 10 minutes ago, when I checked my voicemail at a friend's place. I started to call her to ask if it was lying around, which is when I realized: Not having an iPhone means you can't actually use your iPhone.

That night, even as rain pelted the windows, my home felt eerily silent. Like so many people, I do not have a separate landline, and I do not have cable TV. Without that small and all-powerful device within arm's reach, I was in exile. Typing emails on my laptop (because I still had wireless) seemed a bit like scribbling on parchment in the amber glow of an oil lantern. I would send the emails and receive nothing in response. Gah, is this thing even on???

The next morning, I walked out to the car to head to my friend's house when I discovered where my iPhone had been all night -- lying face-up on the driveway, inches from the driver-side door of my car, water still pooled on its black screen.

An iPhone suicide.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/10/14/my_iphone_foreclosure/feed/ 46 When my cat finally took to the leash http://www.salon.com/2011/08/19/how_i_finally_leash_trained_my_cat/ http://www.salon.com/2011/08/19/how_i_finally_leash_trained_my_cat/#comments Fri, 19 Aug 2011 01:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/08/18/how_i_finally_leash_trained_my_cat The night I discovered my cat could walk on a leash did not begin well. I was sitting on the couch, toiling away on some dorky craft project, when Bubba set himself down at the front door and began to meow.

"Ugh, cut it out," I said, because everyone knows: That helps.

Only weeks ago, we moved from a 200-square-foot studio in Manhattan to a roomy cottage in Dallas, which was a little bit like waking up one morning and discovering your black-and-white movie had gone Technicolor. This place is a find. It has two stories, a huge open kitchen, and windows that look out onto leafy, sun-dappled trees where birds flutter about. As far as I could tell, this is Cat Paradise.

And while I didn't exactly expect a Martha Stewart thank you card, my mood quickly soured when he didn't appreciate it. I'd already done so much for him: toys littered the floor, unused; a scratching post had become a tacky mail holder. Now, the cat stood at the front door, firm and ever-striving, demanding access to the one place I would not allow him to go.

"You're not going outside," I said.

Mrrrrow.

"The dogs next door will eat you," I said.

Mrrrooowww.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/08/19/how_i_finally_leash_trained_my_cat/feed/ 101 When I finally stopped going to bars http://www.salon.com/2011/07/22/when_i_couldnt_meet_my_friends_at_bar/ http://www.salon.com/2011/07/22/when_i_couldnt_meet_my_friends_at_bar/#comments Fri, 22 Jul 2011 00:30:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/07/21/when_i_couldnt_meet_my_friends_at_bar Of course Tim suggested we meet at the bar. Where else would we meet? It's where the guys go every day after work, 5 to 7 p.m. Tim likes to brag that they get the employee discount.

I used to love to join them there. Whenever I'd come home to visit, I'd find the guys in that back booth, steady as a sundial. I'd order a Stella, or a Harp, something tart enough to sting but light enough to drink by the gallon. I'd drain it while they told their stories, and we shook off the frustration of the day, and became an easier, funnier version of ourselves. And every 15 minutes, a woman in a tank top and a casual ponytail would appear. "Can I get you another?" she'd ask, pointing to the empty glass.

It was the world's easiest question. The only question that might have been easier was, "Where should we meet?" because the answer was always: the bar.

And so I knew I was making everything more difficult, I knew I was disrupting the natural flow of the universe when I emailed Tim and said, "Actually, I quit drinking -- do you mind if we meet for lunch or coffee?"

It was such a simple request. Why did it feel like I was asking everyone to stop breathing for a while?

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/07/22/when_i_couldnt_meet_my_friends_at_bar/feed/ 67 “The Killing’s” real killer http://www.salon.com/2011/05/22/joel_kinnaman_killing_interview/ http://www.salon.com/2011/05/22/joel_kinnaman_killing_interview/#comments Sun, 22 May 2011 18:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/entertainment/tv/feature/2011/05/22/joel_kinnaman_killing_interview In a gripping show about grief, murder and our utter inability to know anyone else, Joel Kinnaman provides a much-needed shot of sexual energy. His Detective Stephen Holder has a slithery charm -- all shifty eyes and defiant slouch, a far cry from the barrel-chested, middle-aged men in Burlington Coat Factory suits we usually see in the homicide office. (As his partner Sarah Linden, played by the marvelous Mireille Enos, sniffs at him: "You dress like Justin Bieber.")

It's a sign of just how magnetic Kinnaman's performance is -- and how great and unpredictable "The Killing" is -- that for at least two episodes, I actually thought Detective Holder was the perp. Between his temper flares and the sly evasions native to any former undercover narcotics cop, Holder seemed a likely candidate for Man Leading a Double Life. It turns out I was right on that last count-- recently, we discovered Holder is in the shaky first year of recovery from meth addiction. As his character evolves into someone more complicated and vulnerable, I feel comfortable nixing him from the suspects list. But there's a reason I keyed in to him so powerfully: He may not be the show's killer -- but he is likely its breakout star.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/05/22/joel_kinnaman_killing_interview/feed/ 14 My humiliating email disaster http://www.salon.com/2011/05/10/my_email_scam_mistake_mortifying_disclosures/ http://www.salon.com/2011/05/10/my_email_scam_mistake_mortifying_disclosures/#comments Tue, 10 May 2011 00:30:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/05/09/my_email_scam_mistake_mortifying_disclosures It began with a simple email: "So-and-so bought you a free movie ticket redeemable at 200 theaters!"

I like to think I'm skeptical of email scams, but this one took me by surprise. As it turned out, so-and-so kind of owed me a movie ticket. I'd done her a favor earlier that month. So on that particular day, at that particular time, I didn't raise one eyebrow when I saw the email. I didn't sniff a fraud or send her a message to clarify. What I thought was: Good.

It had only recently struck me that email scams were getting craftier. After years of laugh-out-loud Nigerian hoaxes, chockablock with mangled grammar and outrageous pleas for the secret prince's survival -- hoaxes that only poor, good-hearted old people would ever fall for, at least according to the John Stossel report I watched -- it seemed that scams were becoming harder to suss out. After all, we were moving faster, with less concentration, through more mediums than ever before. The mea culpas from vague acquaintances -- "Sorry, everyone, please ignore that email" -- were becoming a regular fixture of my in box. When two whip-smart co-workers fell for a Facebook scam that promised to show you how you ranked among your friends, well, I knew that could have been me.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/05/10/my_email_scam_mistake_mortifying_disclosures/feed/ 76 Your favorite Salon essays on “The Story” from American Public Media http://www.salon.com/2011/04/18/partnership_with_the_story/ http://www.salon.com/2011/04/18/partnership_with_the_story/#comments Mon, 18 Apr 2011 22:54:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/about/inside_salon/2011/04/18/partnership_with_the_story We're pleased to announce a new partnership with "The Story," a terrific radio show produced by APM and carried on NPR stations across the country. Now, fans of Salon's personal essays can enjoy them in another medium -- as the authors recount their own tales to host Dick Gordon.

The partnership is a natural fit: "The Story" offers fascinating first-person accounts on engaging, timely topics, much like Salon has since its inception. Though "The Story" has run pieces inspired by our Life section before, today marks the launch of our official alliance, as Marcelle Soviero, author of "Making peace at my ex-husband's Seder," offers a poignant account of interfaith marriage and life after divorce. Listen to Soviero tell her tale on "The Story" by clicking here.

Find when "The Story" is playing on your local public radio station here, or subscribe to the podcast.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/04/18/partnership_with_the_story/feed/ 7 A childhood of mud pies, TV and an awesome divorce http://www.salon.com/2011/01/30/havrilesky_disaster_preparedness_interview/ http://www.salon.com/2011/01/30/havrilesky_disaster_preparedness_interview/#comments Sun, 30 Jan 2011 00:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/01/29/havrilesky_disaster_preparedness_interview Heather Havrilesky's irreverent television reviews were a fixture on Salon. Whether she was writing about the "whoring sea donkeys" of reality TV or the soul sickness of "Mad Men's" advertising age, her pieces were as much about the world around her as the shows themselves. She has a preternatural gift for understanding human behavior, a gift she brings to her first memoir, "Disaster Preparedness," a series of finely observed tales of growing up in a tense, troubled family in 1970s North Carolina. Readers may be surprised to discover that the woman who wrote a "Deadwood" review in the voice of Al Swearengen was once a cheerleader, but her tales of feeling like an outsider -- as the sensitive youngest child, as a strange and funny teenager -- have the warmth and familiarity of an old friend.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/01/30/havrilesky_disaster_preparedness_interview/feed/ 51 Loughner a “textbook” case paranoid schizophrenic http://www.salon.com/2011/01/12/jared_loughner_paranoid_schizophrenia_and_why/ http://www.salon.com/2011/01/12/jared_loughner_paranoid_schizophrenia_and_why/#comments Wed, 12 Jan 2011 01:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/01/11/jared_loughner_paranoid_schizophrenia_and_why It wasn't long after news of the Tucson, Ariz., tragedy broke that the words "paranoid schizophrenic" entered the conversation. Armchair psychiatrists across the country looked at Jared Loughner -- 22, history of antisocial behavior, with a cache of rambling YouTube videos on government mind control -- and diagnosed him. But is there any truth to this? And if so, how does it help make sense of his horrific actions?

To try and untangle the influences that might lead one lone gunman to fire his Glock at a political rally, we turned to Dr. E. Fuller Torrey, respected psychiatrist and one of the foremost experts on paranoid schizophrenics. Torrey has written several books on the mental illness, including the bestselling classic "Surviving Schizophrenia." He is founder of the Treatment Advocacy Center in Virginia, a national nonprofit for the mentally ill.

Quite early in the news cycle, the media more or less diagnosed Jared Loughner as paranoid schizophrenic. Do you think that's accurate?

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/01/12/jared_loughner_paranoid_schizophrenia_and_why/feed/ 175 A violent song’s latest, ugly encore http://www.salon.com/2011/01/10/drowning_pool/ http://www.salon.com/2011/01/10/drowning_pool/#comments Mon, 10 Jan 2011 17:36:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/01/10/drowning_pool Jared Loughner's cryptic video rantings make little sense, but if you are looking on his YouTube channel for patterns, one stands out: His lone "favorite" video is a homemade clip that prominently features the Drowning Pool song "Bodies," whose grim history includes being played at Guantánamo to torture prisoners. The video Loughner posted is a spare, creepy sequence in which a hooded figure, dressed like the Grim Reaper with a trash bag draped around his lower body, lights a tattered American flag on fire while the Drowning Pool song throbs in the background. The clip would be fairly typical adolescent anarchy, if it were not connected to such tragedy, and if the song itself didn't have such a troubled past.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/01/10/drowning_pool/feed/ 34 Lush for life http://www.salon.com/2010/12/31/lush_for_life/ http://www.salon.com/2010/12/31/lush_for_life/#comments Fri, 31 Dec 2010 21:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2010/12/31/lush_for_life The morning after my first office holiday party, I woke up in a dog bed in someone else's house. This was surprising to everyone involved, but perhaps most poignantly, the dog. The night prior had been an elegant shindig at an Austin bar, where I'd managed to knock back two bottles of wine, suck down a pack of smokes and eat absolutely nothing. I remember having a blast that night, I remember being on fire … and then, I remember nothing. This happened sometimes. A blackout like one of those cartoon anvils that descend from the sky with a whistle and konk you over the head. One moment you're laughing with friends. Another moment: Ker-PLONK. I woke up that morning when the Labrador's cold, wet snout nudged into my face. Lady, can you make some room?

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2010/12/31/lush_for_life/feed/ 149 Dissecting “Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys” http://www.salon.com/2010/12/08/girls_who_like_boys_who_like_boys/ http://www.salon.com/2010/12/08/girls_who_like_boys_who_like_boys/#comments Wed, 08 Dec 2010 14:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/entertainment/tv/2010/12/08/girls_who_like_boys_who_like_boys On Tuesday, the Sundance Channel debuted "Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys," a reality show about the enduring friendship between straight women and gay men. The half-hour show follows four duos in New York City as they navigate dating, marriage, family and, naturally, fashion. Anyone who has followed the proliferation of gay programming in the last two decades will not be surprised to hear the show is executive produced by Randy Barbato and Fenton Bailey ("Party Monster," "RuPaul's Drag Race," "Transamerican Love Story"), whose long career has chronicled countless aspects of gay life. To assess the premiere we enlisted real-life friends deputy arts editor Thomas Rogers (a gay man) and culture editor Sarah Hepola (a straight woman). Below is their discussion.

Sarah Hepola: First of all, I want to congratulate everyone for what must be the most unwieldy name in television history. It is the "supercalafragilisticexpealidocious" of reality show names. I know it's a line from a Blur song (and the name of a book), but my mind trips every time I say it. I never know when to stop: "Girls who like boys who like boys who have dogs who eat bones."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2010/12/08/girls_who_like_boys_who_like_boys/feed/ 8 Our con story — and yours http://www.salon.com/2010/12/02/about_that_con_story/ http://www.salon.com/2010/12/02/about_that_con_story/#comments Thu, 02 Dec 2010 16:03:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2010/12/02/about_that_con_story Salon readers have never been the shy and retiring type, but Monday's Life story -- "How I Became a Con Artist" -- certainly brought out the knives. "You don't deserve to live in a civilized society," read one of the 200+ outraged comments, peppered with such descriptors as douchebag, degenerate and morally bankrupt. At least one furious reader actually e-mailed writer Jason Jellick's employer to complain. Readers directed their scorn at us as well. "Is this the best Salon can do, especially at the start of the Christmas holiday season?" Ouch. We weren't just ethically bankrupt. We were ruining Christmas.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2010/12/02/about_that_con_story/feed/ 48 Your “Men on Top” picks http://www.salon.com/2010/11/20/men_on_top_your_picks/ http://www.salon.com/2010/11/20/men_on_top_your_picks/#comments Sat, 20 Nov 2010 22:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2010/11/20/men_on_top_your_picks OK, so some of you don't like Russell Brand. Or, to quote you more precisely: "ACK!" "You blew it, Salon!" And, the classic: "eeewww." Some readers clinked champagne glasses upon reading our annual list of sexy manliness -- and, personally, I think it's the best we've ever done -- but beauty is in the eye of the tweeter and Facebooker. Some took issue with The Situation. Conan O'Brien is an aquired taste, I guess. Hey, it's not like we expected everyone to agree.

But now, it's your turn. The following slide show features the 12 best suggestions from commenters and Open Salon posters of the men left off the list. One clarification: We never repeat any of the 15 recipients from previous years (the only exception was Neil Patrick Harris, who had such a spectacular year in 2009 he earned the exemption). Prior lists have included Stephen Colbert, Idris Elba, James Franco, Jon Hamm, Justin Timberlake and many of the ALL CAPS! SUGGESTIONS! we saw in our comments and elsewhere. So calm down, people. Enjoy the alternate "Men on Top" slide show. And no, I'm sorry, Louis CK didn't make this list, either.  

 

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2010/11/20/men_on_top_your_picks/feed/ 19 The sexiest men who almost were http://www.salon.com/2010/11/16/men_on_top_sexiest_men_who_were_not/ http://www.salon.com/2010/11/16/men_on_top_sexiest_men_who_were_not/#comments Tue, 16 Nov 2010 19:30:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/about/inside_salon/2010/11/16/men_on_top_sexiest_men_who_were_not You would not believe how close Louis CK came to topping this year's sexiest man list. Yes, that Louis CK, the pasty, paunchy and wickedly bent stand-up comic whose FX show is like the bitter, angry person's "Modern Family." Never mind that central to Louis CK's act is how disgusting his 40-something body is, how dimpled the white flesh of his butt, the jiggly belly that he stares at in the mirror like a little boy poking at a jellyfish that has washed ashore. Seen from a certain angle (squinting, in candlelight) he has a flinty Irish factory man's good looks. And choosing Louis CK was a middle finger to the 21st-century culture of plastic typified by People's annual parade of predictable pretty boys. (I mean, come on: David Beckham?)

There was one problem: Nobody really found Louis CK sexy.

I mean, we all found him hilarious, and refreshingly raw, and uncompromising as the creator of a daring show plopped into a turbid sea of sitcom mediocrity. But hot and desirable? Telling staff members and friends he was our leading pick elicited a reaction somewhere between cold and openly hostile.

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