At least when the voluptuous tease in the 1967 classic "Cool Hand Luke" soaped a car for the amusement of convicts on work detail, we weren't confused about what we were witnessing. The Girl, as she's dubbed in the credits, was what we amiably used to call a "tramp" - fun for a romp, but no one to bring home to momma.

As long as we're feeling nostalgic, remember when a tramp was a tramp? In these liberated times, there's no such thing. Yesterday's trash is today's socialite, a jet-setting culture creature who just wants to have a little fun. What's so wrong with that?

Moral relativity makes explanation nearly impossible. Instead, we resort to a few simpler truths: sex sells, money doesn't equate to class, and - while we're wallowing in cliches - the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Throughout her so-called career I've often wondered, where are Mom and Dad? Born in 1981, Paris was barely out of diapers before she was publicly shed of her panties. Now, unfortunately, we know. Later this month, Kathy Hilton (mom), is starring in her own reality show, "I Want to Be a Hilton," with Rick Hilton (dad) co-producing.

In yet another display of material fecundity, the Hilton family promises to teach the less-privileged how to be "cultured" (pronounced "CUL-chahed," honey), though Webster surely will want to consider amending current definitions. Viewers will watch 14 wannabes learn about haute couture, etiquette and, yes, even how to handle the media.

Each week one poor slob will be eliminated for failing to meet the Hiltons' high standards. The winner will be awarded a year of high life in "glamorous Manhattan" and, natch, a $200,000 trust fund.

It isn't clear whether the show, which premiers June 21, also will include lessons on the virtues of modesty and humility, which we once associated with "class." Or whether Paris' mother will teach these money-hungry hicks that ostentation is a sign of poor breeding and that flaunting wealth, especially the inherited/married variety, is the worst kind of faux pas.

That may be too much to hope. Alas, one can only teach what one knows.