The Birds and the Bleeps
by Don Wrege
All this talk about presidential sex and cigars makes me nostalgic.
As I listen to the endless Sunday talkinghead shows drone on and on
about Clinton's problems, it makes me wonder if this is how some
kids today will, for the first time, "figure it out."
I picture myself as a young boy watching television on a weekend
morning in the early Sixties. Back then you couldn't say "pregnant"
on "I Love Lucy," much less discuss semen stains during prime
time. As kids we had our own playground theories about sex, but at
9 or 10-years-old we were still a bit off the mark. The Process was
revealed to me by a little pamphlet my father brought home from
church.
"This is nothing like Kelly Watson described on the playground," I
thought, coupled with "Eeeeyewww!" The second reaction resulting
from an involuntary mental image of my own dear parents . . .
"doing it."
Why do I even bring this up in polite conversation? Well, for one
thing, "polite conversation" has taken a distinct turn towards the
bizarre in recent months and I was taken aback by a recent study
suggesting our beloved senior citizens nationwide are still, "doing
it." (It took me over twenty years to get over my initial mental image
associated with sex and now this.)
Half of the USA's seniors, the study finds, are having sexual
relations at least once a month--and get this--enjoying it more than
us youngsters! Is it a good or bad thing that kids hear all about this
in prime time?
Roper Starch Worldwide conducted the research and it was funded, (surprise!)
by the public spirited folks at Pfizer Inc., who bring you the Little
Blue Boner Pill, Viagra. I guess they recognize that the other
50% of the graying population is a growth market, so to speak. They
exposed their data to us all, and I for one feel pretty intimidated.
How do we expect a 9-year-old to parse this information?
These days frank talk about sex is a part of our children's lives, a
part of our political process, our workplace, and now, we discover,
the retirement home. Damn. Just like in my pimply, angst filled
days of high school, I'm left with the impression that no matter who
they may be, or how old, everybody is getting more than me.
Maybe I should watch more television.
Light anyone?
