Yikeys! Am I getting old or what?
Just now on The View, the Chippendale dancers opened the show because the show is live from Las Vegas. They were dancing and gyrating around. And they busted their shirts open and danced some more. I felt like I needed some kind of warning about this and averted my eyes. It was a bit much.
Yesterday, I was flipping through a People Magazine (the one with Tim Russert on the cover) and there Mario Lopez was in all his glory. Seriously, look it up. Do a search for Mario Lopez nude on a bear skin rug. Whoa. Um. OK. That was a lot of flesh showing on that 2-page photo, a re-creation of Burt Reynolds in Cosmo in 1972. I didn’t need to see either of those photos.
A weekend ago, I went to a concert. It was a pretty big one with a well-known artist. Before the main act graced the stage, a slightly lesser-known performer took the stage. His performance was very theatrical and it essentially took us on a musical journey through a romantic relationship. Boy meets girl, they date, and they “get it on.” Yeah, they start to “get it on” in front of us (thankfully, the “completion” occurred backstage). At first I was thinking, “WTF is this? Is she supposed to be doing that? Is this what I think it is?” It was very… um… uncomfortable to witness this, so I didn’t. I leaned over to my friend and asked, “Is it me or do you feel like we’re watching something we shouldn’t be? I feel like a voyeur.” She nodded in agreement.
So I ask you, am I just getting old? Am I a prude? Or have we reached scandalously low levels of decency?