My wife tells me I am a product of the 50's, which is not necessarily praise. But I'm sure she is right. A very repressed era. Those who elevate the 50's as the era of muscle cars and cigarette packs on the sleeve or rolled up T-shirts simply elevate repression.
But in my heart I continue to agree with Art Garfunkel in Carnal Knowledge (one of my top 50 films) as he reflects on his affair with Candace Bergen - something to the effect that we should be grateful to women for whatever sex we get, because after all, what do they get out of it?
I also agree with whoever cast Mary Martin as Peter Pan - which I hated at the Philadelphia Academy of Music, named in the days before the rich and the corps got their names plastered on public facilities in what is sure to be exposed as a major symptom of the problem of our era by future historians. Why cast a male in a male's role? After all, how could there be anything sexual going on between Wendy and Peter as they fly away to a magic island and have children in their care, for goodness sake?
When I was in 8th grade in the the pool at Friends' Central I heard a little group of older girls standing in the pool. One said, let's do something. Another said, yeah, between the legs. How puzzling! That couldn't be, I knew. Fact of conversation, belief of Art Garfunkel. Go with the belief!
Besides, how could anyone desire me? Like any adolescent, I realize now as a pediatrician, I looked at myself and found me wanting. My lips are too big. I didn't know then that that was sensual.
What triggered this and other reminiscences too intimate to post - everyone has them, I know - is this charming little piece by my good friend Bob Levin, on the connection of sports, food, sex, and immaturity. I think Bob is such a fine writer. http://www.broadstreetreview.com/index.php/main/article/steak_sandwiches_bc_before_cheese.
If anyone wants to hear more in this vein, let me know. Or are my 3 readers aching for more on health care reform?