Dear Paul Newman,
We are sorry that you are no longer with us. Your absence has left a void in the world of devastatingly handsome men. Yes, we have our James Francos and Leonardo Dicaprios (both of whom happen to be in Emily and Julia's Top 5, respectively), but they lack a certain charm, leaving something to be desired: you. You are the reason that there are cliches about piercing blue eyes. You came from a time when mothers taught their sons to remove their hats when a lady entered the room, and hold the door as she left. You can sail a boat, turn a tree into a cabin, and let's face it...fighting the Nazis is hot, especially while a Marlboro Red dangles nonchalantly from your perfect pout. We know you are a respected actor, but this is not the reason we love you. In fact, we have seen very few of your films. To be honest, you could have become rich and famous on your looks alone. Your salad dressing is pretty good, but the fact that the label bares your image is what keeps us coming back for more; bravo to the marketing staff of Newman's Own. Even though we have been warned by our mothers to never accept a ride from a stranger, if you pulled up in your Datsun, nothing could stop us from getting in. And not to mention, having been nineteenth on Dick Nixon's enemy list only attracts us more. Are you purposefully trying to seduce little old us? Your philanthropy is adorable too. But at the end of the day we would really like to know how you aged so gracefully, all while maintaining the perfect tan...
We believe only the great Sir Tom Jones can express our feelings for you in words: Paul Newman, you can leave your hat on.
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