Although we earn decent money, my family is woefully house-poor. We still have antiquated dial-up Internet access. My idea of extravagance is to put an extra flavored creamer in my 7-11 coffee.
So we seldom get out to the movies. Our last outing was A Beautiful Mind. I shelled out forty bucks to watch the dolt Russell Crowe impersonate a math whiz gone bonkers. Hated it. It follows that I won’t see Jack Nicholson costarring with Kathy Bates in About Schmidt, even though I always thought he should have played the tormented author in Misery. No, I’ll wait till it comes out on DVD and then harangue my son into putting it in his PS-2 and turning it on. We won’t pause it or view any of the “bonus scenes.” Nor will we sample the alternate camera angles, because neither of us know how.
I have read several rave reviews, however. Of particular interest is a hot-tub scene wherein the fat, middle-aged Bates displays full frontal nudity and plays footsy with Nicholson. Reviewers imply that it may go further than that, which I find revolting. Just as I wretch at the notion of a real-life Nicholson mounting his wafer-thin plaything Lara Flynn-Boyle. I envision her scrawny ass enveloped beneath a sprawling mound o’ lecher.
Part of the reason lots of people are so turned off by the elderly having sex is that they harbor traumatic memories of catching their parents doing the deed. Or worse, one of their parents making it with someone else. Or perhaps engaged in something aside from traditional boot-knocking. Try as I may to obliterate this disturbing imagery from my mind, still it remains as if a hardy toe fungus. I will spare you any further details, though there’s no guarantee others will be so discrete.
It’s not as if all old people are so unattractive either. For instance, check out these mature babes.
I think it’s more that we’d prefer our elders to go around doing senior citizen things like playing shuffleboard or knitting or obsessing over bowel movements. We do not want them rolling on Ecstasy or dispensing gum jobs willy-nilly like some junior high hussy. (Thanks to Bill Clinton’s obfuscation, most teenage girls no longer consider pearl necklaces sex. Dude, when bodily fluids are exchanged, it’s sex.)
Which brings me to the larger issue of why some folks never grow up, even if they hold high public office. Or at least they don’t feel grown up. Youths assume the day will come when they start to care deeply about lawn care or stock market fluctuations or Iraq. They tell themselves they’ll transition into adulthood any day now. Yet in my experience, that day never quite arrives. I still feel like a mischievous kid masquerading as a grownup. This is particularly true when forced to interact with other parents who come across as Responsible Adults Who’d Never Surf Internet Porn. (When my son was younger I put on my Adult Mask to bring him to a play date. His playmate’s dad and I played the game until it dawned on us that we’d known one another back in high school. We’d passed out at parties, skipped school and vandalized stuff together. So much for the masquerade.)
Yesterday I took in A Night With Dame Edna at the National Theatre. The tickets were a birthday gift to my beloved. This old bird is saucy, sarcastic and utterly unashamed of his/her sexuality. He/she also claims to have rigged up sensors on his/her 99 year old mother’s legs so she could tell how far apart they were. Ugh.
You gave your hubby tickets to Dame Edna for his b-day? You guys have got a pretty interesting relationship, don't you?
by mg at February 1, 2003 10:33 PM
Yeah we do. Although I didn't say hubby, I said "beloved." Because I hate the equally generic term "significant other." Oh, significant other, give it to me! And I will say this about Edna, we both LOL. Lastly, I might add that I posted this after being downtown all day in regard to the play etc. Wasn't even aware of the Space Shuttle tragedy. Kind of feel like a heel.
by Anna at February 2, 2003 7:28 AM