Even as I write this, the fire in the pit over which my body will be roasted is being prepared. I’ve been food for the masses before, especially those of my own gender who think women hold some lofty perch which men can only aspire to reach. I can stand the flames. I relish the heat. In fact, I think of my charred skin as having a healthy tan. Better tanned and truthful than lily white (perception is everything) and delusional.

This morning as I sipped the coffee my husband brings daily to our bedside, I read Gene Lyons (Arkansas Democrat Gazette) column entitled “Media get off on sex scandals.” Hey, everybody gets off on sex scandals, but that’s beside the point. Dealing with the right from the beginning yawn worthy topic of former Congressman Anthony Weiner’s predilection for preening himself in public, Mr. Lyons cleverly equates narcissist Weiner with author Philip Roth’s protagonist, Alexander Portnoy, of Portnoy’s Complaint fame.

As interesting as I found Mr. Lyons’ comparison of Weiner and Portnoy, where he really hit the nail on the head was when he wrote, “… I’m neither shocked nor surprised that Mr. Weiner found willing playmates.” Me, either.

Working on the fringes of the entertainment industry, I have seen some mind boggling examples of women throwing themselves at celebrities who, if not for their star status, would generate a need to leave more than the proverbial ten foot pole distance between them. But appear on the pages of Us or People magazines and, suddenly, up close and personal has a whole new meaning.

In defense of men, I've pretty much stopped watching sitcoms that portray males as imbeciles unable to wipe their butts without a woman pointing out the location of their, well, you know the spot I am referring to. Everybody Loves Raymond, King of Queens and Seinfeld are all funny shows with one common thread-- men could not survive if not for the bitchy women who run their lives. Even Two and a Half Men, a show with a premise that would allow for one of the male characters to have actual good character, still depicts Alan (Jon Cryer) as a simpleton unable to make simple decisions. He's a doctor, for god's sake. How did he get through school without, at least, a modicum of viable brain matter?

Charlie Sheen's character, Charlie, is totally without redemptive qualities. He's a self-centered, over-sexed narcissist with mommy issues. He recycles women with more regularity than the Solid Waste Authority does trash. Why would any woman want to share her life with these Neanderthals? Why? Because, using Sheen as an example, although his on screen persona and his off screen self are one and the same, he’s famous. Nuff said! Personally, I miss Jim Anderson (Robert Young) on Father Knows Best. He personified the values that make this country great -- a truly caring man who put the needs of his wife and children above all else.

Weiner was a weiner long before he tweeted his nether regions into cyber space. He is not a reflection of most men I have had the privilege to know. Not all males are fools any more than all women are money hungry bitc… bimbos. Good and bad comes in both genders.

Now, let’s put Anthony Weiner and his ilk where they belong --- out of sight/out of mind. Rather, let’s focus our attention on the Jim Anderson’s of this world. There are many men deserving of recognition for their good deeds and many women, like me, who are proud to hold their arm as we walk through life together.