So I’m watching the 9th season premiere of “Dancing With The Stars,” when host Tom Bergeron begins listing the names of the celebrity dancers. My Gentleman Friend, who is only watching this show as payback for me having watched football with him the night before, looks up from his sandwich.

“Did they just say ‘Tom DeLay?”

Yes, Gentleman Friend. You are perhaps the only person in the universe, including my cat, who does not know that former Congressman Tom DeLay is throwing his hot pants into the Grade C celebrity reality ring.

And yes, Tom DeLay and hot pants have found their way into the same sentence, and they are oddly attracted to each other.

What’s also odd – how entertaining DeLay was. He’s not the most skillful dancer, and sometimes deferred  to classic Uncle At The Wedding Booty Shake , but, as the judges pointed out, he was pretty good when he stuck to the steps. Another thing – he’s awfully charming. I’m not sure how long he’s gonna stick around, because his scores weren’t stellar.

But there’s something sweet about a guy who has absolutely no reason to step out of his comfort zone doing so, just because he can. Most of the contestants are performers whose stars have seen shinier days, trying to spiff themselves up (see: Aaron Carter, Ashley Hamilton, and that dude who reads the ingredients from “Iron Chef”).

The fact that Tom DeLay is, presumably, not about to release an album or star in a CW series, but put himself out there anyway, is kind of cool. I hope he sticks around, because he’s trying really hard, and that’s endearing.