OK Channing Tatum. I see what you’re doing.

Here you are, such a gamer, last night at the Rainforest Fund Revlon concert in New York, grinding up on Elton John on stage, not taking yourself so seriously (unlike Justin Timberlake), endearing yourself to your gay fans and then your lady fans, dropping some old school Step Up moves while romance-dancing  your wife Jenna Dewan. All while wearing your fedora and a waistcoat, showing off your big arms.

You are impossible to resist.

Because, well, I believe that you know who you are. And what you are. And that you’re working within those parameters. And being rewarded for it. And having a great time while you’re at it - appreciative, conscientious, and, most importantly, not pretentious.

No one is offering you a part in Macbeth on Broadway. And you’re not asking them to.

You are not original. You are not pretending to be either. And I guess that’s why you are wearing me down. Among so many so intent on standing out by being extraordinary, you have stood out by being totally ordinary, an attribute that’s becoming criminally underrated and increasingly but unfairly undesired.

So fine, Channing Tatum. I like you, OK? I do. I really, really do.