I’ve spent a lot of my evening drive home this last month listening to the Elvis station. This has generated some odd thoughts in my little ol’ pea brain. So I feel the need to state the following: I love Elvis. I love Elvis movies. I love Elvis music. I love Elvis history. But alas, Elvis is not my idea of a sex symbol. Surprised?
Elvis is a very pretty man. Beautiful! Those pretty little cupid bow lips that snarl at you. The smoldering eyes. The dark wavy hair. Yes, my stars, he is a pretty man. But I’m not attracted to pretty men. I’m attracted to a certain kind of macho man. But wait you say!! Elvis is macho. Well maybe, I’ll give you that. But he does not exude masculinity to me.
WAIT!! WAIT!!!
I’m not questioning his masculinity. He’s just too pretty for me. I like a man a little more rugged. A little more hard. A little more worn, maybe. I can’t quite articulate exactly what I mean. But someone that makes me feel protected. In this day and age I guess that’s a little anti feminist. If that’s even a word. But that’s what I like and that’s what I got.
I like a Trace Adkins. Pony tail, tattoos, and his deep gravelly voice. I like me some Sam Elliot. Mustache, gray hair and all. It doesn’t matter if it’s the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, or the current version. I also find Javier Bardem largely sexy. Maybe its the accent???
Once after telling my grandmother while watching television “That man is sex-yyy!!” she told me “Girl, you have a taste for roughness.” I don’t even remember who it was. But I’ll always remember her response and her laughter. I’m not talking about personality. Just strictly looks. Luckily I found my macho man and he “fits the bill” as they say.
