My sister has been beside herself with excitement contemplating the potential implications of the Chicago magazine photographer's offhand remarks last week that she wants to set me up with Nate Berkus. (The photographer has not done anything to follow up on her remarks, by the way. And I think that my sister is far more interested in the benefits of having a talented and disarmingly handsome designer-in-law than in securing her brother's romantic happiness.)
Anyway, I had never heard of Nate Berkus (who is apparently Oprah's favorite designer), and when my sister breathlessly informed me that he was going to be on Oprah yesterday, I TiVo'd the program and watched it last night. And aside from being affable and talented and filled with a charming aw-shucks self-confidence, Nate is also an undeniable hottie. (He has this Jude Law thing goin' on, and I've been a Jude Law fan since I saw him naked on Broadway in Indiscretions in 1995 -- way before he was famous.) I also really like what Nate did with the apartment makeover on yesterday's show. (I also like the fact that the apartment belonged to a woman named Jenny (my sister's name) and she had a son named Jake (my name). Coincidence? Fate? You decide.)
I have since learned, though, that I have another tenuous connection to Nate through my friend Anders. And Anders thinks that Nate is a lot shorter than I am. And everyone knows that you choose the filthy homosexual lifestyle so you can meet someone your own size and double your wardrobe. So the Nate-and-Jake thing probably would never work out.
While I was getting caught up on my television culture last night, I also saw the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy featuring the breathtaking figure skater with the thighs and abs of death and the brilliant South Park featuring the Ninja weapons, a not-so-invisible Cartman tiptoeing naked across a stage, and a message lambasting our culture's fascination with violence and misguided offensensitivity to nudity.