LUDIC LOG

On the way to work every morning I pass by the theatre where "The Vagina Monologues" is playing. This performance-artsy play involves a number of women discussing the ins and outs of their special areas in what is purported to be a life-affirming fashion; being a lowbrow, a sexist and an all-around troglodyte, my interest in actually seeing the production is minimal. I am, however, utterly fascinated by the rotating roster of actresses who are selected to play the lead.

When "The Vagina Monologues" first settled into my consciousness, the Chicago edition of the show featured Mayim "Blossom" Bialik in the lead role. Needless to say, I found this quite unsettling. Not because of the ding an sich of it, you understand: there was, without question, a time in my life -- really not that long ago, in fact -- when I had a great deal of interest in Mayim Bialik's vagina. However, there was something profoundly disturbing about the notion of hearing Blossom Rousseau talk about rape camps in Sarajevo. This left open the distinctly unwelcoming possibility that Six would come on next and talk about female genital mutilation, and then Joey would say "whoa".

Happily or unhappily -- depending on your perspective -- Ms. Bialik was soon replaced as the lead actress by Loretta "Hot Lips Houlihan" Swit, star of the beloved sitcom "M*A*S*H". While the low-grade peep-show vibe of a woman best known as "Hot Lips" charging $75 to listen to her talk about her private parts has a certain appeal, I would have thought that interest in Loretta Swit's vagina probably peaked sometime around 1976. Of course, this is why I am a crude piggish temp instead of a rich Hollywood producer.

This morning's commute revealed that the current Chief Vaginal Monologuist is none other than Kim "Tootie" Fields, of "The Facts of Life" fame. Goodness knows what Blair and Mrs. Garrett think of all this, although one suspects that Jo is pleased.

Is nothing sacred? Will all the icons of my television-sotted youth be dredged up to talk about their menarche? I think I could probably deal with Soliel Moon Frye telling us how she seduced an underage girl. I might even be able to handle Tracey Gold asking the audience what kind of costume their vagina would wear if it was going to a party. But please, God, don't make me have to contend with Tiffany Brissette saying the word "cunt" over and over for 10 minutes.