When it was suggested that I make a list of things that touched me in 2010, it wasn't a huge conceptual leap to start thinking physically. And so I have scoured my remaining brain cells to compile this list of things that literally touched my person over the past 12 months.
It was National Day of Prayer, so something naughty was bound to happen. Enter Rick Perry. After addressing the afternoon crowd at City Hall, Perry called for a massive prayer for his family before descending into the crowd and aimlessly grabbing the hands of those nearby with his eyes closed. In my attempts to get as close of a photo as possible, I fell into the crossfire, and soon found my hand entwined with our Governor for Life.
Did I get an erection? No.
Was Rick's hand equally sumptuous, ruddy and beautifully maintained? Yes.
The Rose Puppies
The spawn of Charlie Williston O'Connell Yarborough and Shayna Rose consisted of three glorious, well-bred puppies (one of which, Julio Esteban Rodriguez, was named after me). Toting the too-cute-not-to-touch Julio to the Hotel Derek Howl-O-Ween party was indeed the apex of the social season.
2010 was the year in which I mastered Twitter and its accompanying brilliant hash tags. This one is self-explanatory.
This was quite the debacle, in which I brought blunt, child-proof, hot-pink-rimmed scissors into the shower . . . and attempted manscaping. Of all of the things that touched me in 2010, this perhaps has left the most indelible impression (although there's surprisingly no scarring).
Coming under attack by a steady stream of knit balls was not my happiest moment of 2010, but no doubt, those balls touched me. I wasn't invited to join the cast of Burn the Floor for future editions of their pre-performance hacky sack tradition, but I came away with a reaffirmed dislike for athletics.
There was a time when I would have given anything to spend some quality time with the humorist David Sedaris, but after two rounds of shameless flirtation on his part, it was time to whip out the sanitizer and find a new literary hero. Send CVs to firstname.lastname@example.org.
I needed an appropriately skimpy pair of swim trunks to wear to the pool at Hotel ZaZa, and so in July, I headed to the tight-fitting clothing emporium on Montrose Boulevard. It wasn't long before I was in a dressing room being told by an employee with a tropical accent that I had a commendable posterior and "could fit into a size small except that . . . "
I don't know of a better term for the dancers at Coachella concerts who are hired to wave their hands before the faces of house music and ecstasy fans. At times these professionals wore gloves covered in fur, making for a slightly disturbing extrasensory experience. I admit that I wasn't "rolling" (snicker), but I was still DTC.
The new Planned Parenthood facility got the Zagat treatment (and I passed with flying colors). I was only touched by a tiny needle that took a tiny drop of blood, but when I got the results, I felt touched by an angel.
OK, she didn't touch me, nor have I ever met her. But Rachel Zoe's epic misuse of the term "literally" was so memorable, that I couldn't leave it out of a year-end list. Best of all, she inspired this column's strict adherence to things that have, literally, touched me. Or at least literally left me feeling "like a cow about to moo."
Editor's note: This is the 10th in a series of articles CultureMap will be running this last week of 2010 on The Year in Culture. The stories in this series will focus on a key point or two, something that struck our reporting team about the year rather than rote Top 10 lists or bests of.
Other The Year In Culture stories: