Jennifer Lawrence, Kate Upton and Nekkid Coworkers

Hi, Veronica:

And thanks for the warning.

Since all of us here at our magazine are now card-carrying members of the codger class, I appreciate the tip-off.

I have serious doubts that any of us would be stripping off our bloomers, dropping our Supp-Hose, throwing off our hernia belts or shedding our Depends for a freelance photo shoot, much less a full stem-to-stern revelation of our dappled glory, especially in photos that might have world-wide circulation.

Of course, as part of the hip cofraternity of the 1960s, we would have slipped off our tie-dye shirts and our levi cut-offs at the drop of a hat ... back when we were sowing whatever wild oats with bods we can only dream of [sigh] now.

But I scarcely think that Pamela or Richard or Rose or Victoria or Jeb or José or any of the rest of us here in our cramped editorial office --- reeking of patchouli oil and tiger balm --- would be stripping down for some pushy paparazzi to put us in the same stylish fraternity as Kim Kardashian, Matthew McConaughey, Bruno Mars or Miley Cyrus.

An in-the-buff full technicolor blow-up of me in my deshabille might open a few eyes (the shock value alone would be great publicity for our magazine), but I'm not so sure it would pass the lascivious quotient that delighted so many on seeing Jennifer Lawrence or Kate Upton au naturel. As the hoary mot has it, after so many decades, I ain't no spring chicken.

Check back with us in 2019 or so. If we're not on a special mission to another black hole by then, we may consider a scandal d'exposé just the thing to shake up our friends and fans.