Op-Ed: Please do not handle heavy machinery

y attention and shocked my sensibilities. In the past twenty-four hours, I have witnessed no less than four members of the opposite sex adjusting certain regions of their anatomy in full range of spectators. Could this be a radical new form of performance art? Well, although such bodily fixation may seem worthy of an NEA grant, I must take a nod from that deliciously dour arbiter of bourgeois taste, Queen Victoria, and declare: “we are not amused.” Whether you are discreetly fondling the mid-region of your gym shorts or cheekily hiking up your jeans as you wink at that cute blond, I object. Men of Middlebury, j’accuse!

Oh, yes. I can hear it in your head: who is this haughty little librarian-in-training, who probably spends her Friday nights caressing the leather jackets ... of her “Encyclopedia Britannica”? For all readers who picture me as some frustrated, repressed spinster, the perfect opposite to a certain fantastically libidinous writer of The Campus, I must disappoint you. I do not fault these young men from a moralist standpoint, but rather an aesthetic one. But I am prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you have a reason for such juggling. Here are those that come to my mind:

Reason A: Because you are uncomfortable — Not valid, I’m afraid. You don’t have to wear wool pants, long underwear or sit in a saddle all day. Nope. I’m afraid that the jury of Historic Manhood upholds my vote. Last time I checked, Napoleon Bonaparte kept his hands off the light artillery in view of his soldiers. John Wayne may have walked funnily but he didn’t even rustle cattle.

And if you dare make a pun about Cary Grant, well, wash your mouth out with soap.

Reason B: Because you are checking to make sure that they are still there — Don’t worry, they are. Unless you wake me up at 2 a.m. with the chorus of “No Woman No Cry” through the ceiling of my dorm. Then I look for my pruning shears. In all sincerity, despite the proliferation of metaphors to the contrary (“Crown Jewels” comes to mind ...), you needn’t concern yourself that theft is an imminent threat.

Reason C: Because you wish to draw our attention to the location — If anything, it seems rather a sign of overcompensation.

Reason D: Because it gives you pleasure to do so — too grotesque to contemplate.

Having attempted to advocate in your defense, I am afraid that the balance has fallen against you, men. The only thing (perhaps an inadvisable choice of words ...) that can explain the need to regularly imitate the most famous gesture of Michael Jackson resides in the need to assert your virility. In the ardent hopes of never seeing a man adjust that region again in my three-score-and-ten, here are some alternative gestures to announce your manliness and win the general admiration of whomever you seek to woo:

Beat your chest — what it lacks in subtlety, it makes up for in universality. You Tarzan!

Smoke a pipe — Never too early to start. Why do you think Sherlock Holmes continues to be a heartthrob?

Wear a silk paisley robe — Alright, this one is a trifle dangerous: how to avoid Hugh Hefner territory while simultaneously not appearing a Noël Coward copycat. I suggest 1930s movies for research and a touch of personal creativity. Insinuate yourself as a lounge lizard.

Drive a stick shift — Challenging, but more elegant than scratching yourself.

Order your steak raw — A bit dependent on context, but particularly effective. Bonus points if you bring your own steak knife.

Grow a Clark Gable mustache — It worked for Rhett. If you balk at the idea, well, frankly, I don’t give a damn.

Keep a toothpick in the corner of your mouth — This trick, though made famous in Sergio Leone westerns, was, in fact, imported from Japan via Toshiro Mifune. Although, if you can do a Clint Eastwood squint with your toothpick, all the better.

Quote Kipling or Hemingway — Stereotypical, yes, but unbeatable for the intellectual he-man in training. P.S. Pith helmets are the quintessential complement to pithiness.

Pay for dinner! Bear the wallet! — Nowadays, the evolutionary edge lies in your superior earning power. Flaunt it. (P.S. To all rabid feminists who will want to present my head on a platter to Gloria Steinem, do note the otherwise heavily sarcastic tone of this column.) (P.P.S. To all gentlemen who do eschew Dutch Treat, without preconditions, where do you live?)
Stand erect — Enough said.