Just Say "No" to <i>Hung</i>

As someone of the female persuasion, I have spent a lifetime supporting the adage that size doesn't really matter. The months of convincing my boyfriend that size isn't really an issue is all for naught.
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Dear Producers of HBO's Hung:

As a concerned citizen and consumer of respectable television programming, I am deeply troubled by your new series, Hung.

At first glance, the show's premise seems innocent enough: Ray Drecker, (Thomas Jane) is a divorced, down on his luck, high school basketball coach, raising two teenagers, in the Midwest. After experiencing a string of bad breaks, he enrolls in a self-help, get rich seminar, in an effort to address mounting financial burdens.

OK. These are indeed tough times full of additional challenges due to a tenuous economy. So its understandable that someone would make an earnest attempt to improve their diminishing portfolio by utilizing all their skills and assets.

But after just a few minutes into the first episode, the unsuspecting viewer soon learns that Drecker's greatest asset is actually his God-given, over-endowment, as Ray begins moonlighting as a male escort.

I take no issue in the entrepreneurial spirit of the show's main character. As a matter of fact, I believe that it's this kind of picking-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps mentality that has made this country what it is today. But there is a deeper dilemma that now plagues me and an often under-recognized sect of society.

As someone of the female persuasion, I have spent a lifetime supporting the adage that size doesn't really matter. Now I am relegated to role of poker-faced cheerleader since my not so well-endowed boyfriend's attempts to satisfy in the boudoir have fallen short due to the severe emotional trauma he has suffered resulting from this latest attempt at envelope-pushing programming by cable TV producers.

The weeks, months, of convincing him that size isn't really an issue, all for naught due to the greed of HBO execs looking to make a fast buck by exploiting the fascination of the American public when it comes to male organ size.

Is there someone I can sue for the emotional damages incurred, not to mention the pain and suffering I have endured as a result of this latest nouveau programming faux pas of sizeable magnitude? How about some sort of reimbursement for the extra therapy and couples counseling me and my boyfriend will now be forced to undergo due to the network's selfishness? Can I at least get a credit on my cable bill?

And while this is just one sad saga, I suspect I am not the only one experiencing increased angst and life-altering implications at the hands of irresponsible and insensitive television producers.

Let's face it. Not everyone is going to measure up in the penile department now that bigger being better is open for discussion. Even the most self-assured male among us may be relegated to posing age-old questions once put to rest by reassuring partners and Dr. Ruth.

I wonder what a show like this says about us as a society; one that glamorizes the haves, while diminishing those who pale in comparison. Will men and women who were once presumed to reside in far away places like Mars and Venus, grow even further apart as they recoil into their respective intergalactic corners, facing even greater challenges during a time when the female-male relationship is already challenged enough? Could Hung be the end of civilization as we know it?

Look, I've lived through a post Sex in the City world, where I finally gave up trying to get in touch with my inner Carrie, especially during these lean fiscal times, when my Manolos have been replaced by Payless. But now that there's a new Mr. Big in town, where does that leave the average Joe and the women who love them?

Come on, HBO. Have a heart. The ball's in your court. I anxiously await your reply.

Your Former Loyal Customer,

Jill Rachel Jacobs

PS: Any word on when the DVD's are out for this season's True Blood?

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