Oh, the things you will learn...

Things I've learned since posting my last blogumn:

When you use a 1980s "one hit wonder" group's name as the title of your last hat blog and then proceed to show your online friend their video on YouTube which you used to sing en route to nightclubs with your wacky friend when you were much, much, much younger...that song will stay with you the entire weekend. Don't believe me? I triple dog dare you to go here and defy the power of a jump-happy tune: "The Safety Dance". Don't blame me if you also do the ballerina/picture frame move with your arms whilst you pseudo-dance around singing it. Some things I refuse to be held responsible for creating.

When you make Chicken Vindaloo...you will walk around and be mesmerized by just how fun saying one word over and over can be. That one word which kept pouring out of my mouth with the resonant conviction of Citizen Kane's "rosebud", Marlon Brando's "Stella", Rocky's "Adrian", and Al Pacino's "Attica"...was my "vindaloo". Vindaloo, it seems, is pleasing to both the tongue and the ear at the same time, thereby racing to the top of my cerebral cortex to get its justly position in my brain's "word bank". I feel confident that Vindaloo, with all it's pleasantries, pushed a few of the other words out of my brain's "file folder". Vindaloo there and then became the current cuckoo bird of my wordbank memory and proceeded to toss a few less used verbiage right smack into the firing line of prions...my neurons never had a chance...there was nothing I could do. Then the coups de grâce...my friend on the phone who jestily asks "Oh, Vindaloo, huh?...like Little Cindy Vindaloo Who, who was no more than two?

It was then that I realized I could not readily smack or otherwise hurt or maim him...or at the very least stomp up and down on both their home and cellphone as they live in Texas...and I'm all the way over here. But that thought, in between "You can dance" stanzas, kept looking more and more like a good idea with each passing chorus.

Enter vindication: This same Texas friend who was responsible for me saying "Little Vindaloo Who/Little Cindy Vindaloo Who" and all permutations thereof, about 82,120 of them, proceeded to then bring to my attention that my previous blog comment "everything is on YouTube except my birth and that Joe Namath/Farrah Fawcett Noxzema commercial" was in effect, incorrect. "But, ha! What of the date?" I say in complete defiance of his accusation (because I like to be right). YouTube Date Input: 4 months ago...my blog's date: "I Just Don't Get It" - it is official, I am vindicated. Not only am I vindicated, the YouTube people undoubtedly read my blog, were incensed that clip wasn't there and that someone found out...and then promptly added it to TRY to cover their ineptitudinal tracks.

Ah...life is good once more...in fact...if we really so desired, we could, well..."We can dance if we want to..."

I Just Don't Get "It"

My mother used to say "every generation seems to think that they were the first to have sex"...which she might have a point about, as it seems the more things change, the more they stay the same...well, except for more daring displays of sex as these generations go on. The Romans had their orgies, the Victorian times had their "gadgets" (oh, don't let them fool you...they did have sex back then, contrary to what Queen Victoria's history would have you believe), the 20's had Flappers, the 50's had Monroe, the 60's had the pill, Masters and Johnson (I think there's a couple puns there somewhere) and Woodstock, the 80's had big hair, and we have the Internet.

And splattered all over the Internet now are 237 reasons why people have sex and according to this article people are coming up with even more they left out, and AOL's main page the other day had a survey asking what was our worst reason we've rationalized to "get any"...then to top it off they gave us their choices to vote on.

Now there's no denying that sex sells...we've been using sex to sell everything...literally from head to toe. From Herbal Essence Shampoo's apparent orgasmic properties (yes, yes, YES!) to 60's Noxzema shaving cream commercials with a sexy blonde Swede compelling men to "take it off, take it all off" to Joe Namath having Farrah Fawcett slather lather on his face whilst crooning "Let Noxzema cream your face...so the razor won't" (then afterwards telling her "you've got a great pair of hands"), to Joe Namath, yet again, in Beautymist pantyhose. You know, it seems old 'Broadway Joe' scored more passes off the field than on if these 1970's commercials of his were any indication of his sex life.

And then there was that "All my men wear English Leather or they wear nothing at all" men's cologne commercial when I was young. Come to think of it, when I was a kid there were a lot of sexy ads on television...but then again we had to, we didn't have the Internet to get our info. If you were a kid and wanted to look at naughty photos, you did what everyone else did: got out the Sears catalogue and turned to the underwear section.

Ah, yes, the bygone days of my youth...and most people look back on theirs with genuine fondness. How many times do you think back of how things were so great when you were a kid? Or the stories your parents told you when they were young...or your grandparents lingering on tales of what they did when they were children. Well, I've come to the conclusion that while every generation needs to have sex to get to the next generation, life was indeed better without sex. This is also why people want to live vicariously through their own kids when they have them...oh think about it...those glory days of youth. Where would innocent Ralphie, of "A Christmas Story" fame, be if he wasn't mesmerized by that "soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window"? If he truly KNEW about sex, that leg lamp just wouldn't have had the same intrigue...face it.

So, while a lot of us are indeed curious and read online articles about who does "it" and where and what they say to get "it" and wonder why they do "it"...stop complaining about not getting enough of "it" and just remember how uncomplicated and fun life was before you did. Then go and tell your kid a "When I was your age we didn't have...." story and be sure to smirk a lot...they'll really wonder what you are up to. And only you'll know "not much".