Sex, Lies and Baby Boomers
A 40-Year Reality Check

[Watching the world and popular culture
with three (mostly open) eyes]

by Joe Marconi

From the Notebook:

Yes... it has been awhile. Some weeks have passed since our last posting and in that time I have visited several countries, where I am fluent in their languages and negotiated mightily over some outrageous restaurant tabs and the price of fine wines... Okay, except for the "long time" part, everything else in that sentence was a lie. I was busy. And I had a cold. Some of our lives are not always the glamorous pictures we paint them to be. Mine is, though. Anyway, this is worth waiting for. Probably.
Start here:


On a recent Friday morning, my beard properly fluffed, a shiny carafe of steaming coffee and I settled into the 10 year-old Toyota and aimed it toward the university where I profess. National Public Radio helped the day start slowly. This was going on in our world:

The price of gas in the US was more than $3 a gallon and heading higher without excuse or apology from oil company executives, and the "leader" of the free world, an oilman, didn't seem to care...… More dead Americans in Iraq and the chaos continues, but other matters seemed bad enough that few people were paying attention to the dead bodies, which weren't so much news anymore...… the leaders of Iran and the United States again dared each other to be the first one to do something really stupid involving the commission of a hostile act (my money's on George)...… Sec of Defense Rumsfeld campaigns to keep his government job...… As Rumsfeld's performance is a virtual catalog of screw-ups, lies and failure, the president gave him his full and unequivocating support...… Young sportsmen at Duke were charged with raping a stripper...… Illegal immigration is out of control...… Voters don't seem excited about any of the 28 or so candidates running for mayor of New Orleans...…

So naturally, the lead story on National Public Radio is: Doormen in New York decide not to go on strike!

What a relief! Good morning, America.

Oh, yeah. The distinguished empty suit who was in charge of the CIA resigned without explanation, between CIA scandals and before he could accidentally shoot himself in the privates with one of those super secret spy weapons, like the Slinky that leaves a poisonous residue on the steps it walks down or the TV remote control that fires what appear to be bullets in the shape of the "curiously strong" Altoids.

All things certainly appear to be in a mess with the current leadership, which might now, belatedly, become familiar with the endearing old chestnut about how one reaps what one sows. And as the reaping continues, may the smell of fertilizer adhere itself to them for a very long time.


Sex

Maury Povich got laid! And no one cared!

Despite his storybook marriage to Connie Chung, on display for a dreadful half-hour every weekend on MSNBC, Maury Povich, a once briefly credible TV newsman, reportedly has been having his way with a 47 year-old woman he described as having a large rear. It's easy to see why women can't resist Maury when such charm pours right out of him and onto their large rears. Perhaps Connie will find comfort in the arms of the probably-ready-to-get-divorced-again-by-now Geraldo Rivera. That would sure be step up for one of them.

---

Austria has been named number one for sexual satisfaction in an Associated Press poll.
Say what you will about the country that gave us Mozart, Freud, and Schwarzenegger, but to borrow a phrase from magazine cover legend Paris Hilton, that's hot!

The top five nations for sexual satisfaction, as reported to University of Chicago researchers:

1. Austria: 71.4 percent of people satisfied with their sex lives
2. Spain: 69 percent - always good number when it comes to satisfying sex
3. Canada: 66.1 percent, hey, and that translates to some good times, y'know?
4. Belgium: 64.6 percent - proof enough of what a little French and chocolate can do
5. United States: 64.2 percent... which leaves 35.8 percent complaining.

The BOTTOM FIVE:
25. Thailand: 35.9 percent
26. China: 34.8 percent
27. Indonesia: 33.9 percent
28. Taiwan: 28.6 percent
29. Japan: 25.7 percent

So. Canada. The country so many in the US like to smirk and fire disparaging references at, appears to be taking more fun rides with the old weinermobile than haughty Americans are themselves.

Let's just try to see the glass as half full here. If the country that has the lowest sexual satisfaction rating in the world has nearly 26 percent of the people satisfied, that's still more than the number of Americans who are satisfied having Dick Cheney as vice-president of the US. So party on, Japan!

Source: Global Study of Sexual Attitudes and Behaviors, published in April's Archives of Sexual Behavior.

Secret Sex Spam

Most of us are pretty accustomed to getting e-mail spam. The filters block out most of it, but the occasional purveyors of Viagra still get through to women, as do the mortgage lenders whose helpful junk mail goes to everyone, including renters, 12 year-olds, and people whose email accounts are in the names of their pets.

The way they usually get through is this: Using a sender's name like "Carole Key" and a subject line such as "Introduce me sometime." Some of us are still naive enough to think we met someone with that name somewhere and are curious about who we're supposed to help her become acquainted with. Here's what my email from "Carole" had to say (in her own words and spelling):

-Sensattional revolution in medicine!-Enlarge your penis up to 10 cm or up to 4 inches!-It's herbal solution what hasn't side effect, but has 100% guaranted results!-Don't lose your chance and but know wihtout doubts, you will be i`mpressed with results!Clisk here:

I am certainly as interested as anyone in knowing about the next "sensational revolution in medicine!" but I paused here to wonder, again, who was Carole? How did she get my e-mail address? Did she know I am a writer and a real college professor" when she sent a note to me containing five grammatical errors and typos? How is it she's under the impression I need "up to 10 cm or up to 4 inches(!)" of enlargement to my penis? Except for a couple of hurtful comments from ex-wives right before some object was thrown, I was never aware there was a problem. What does Carole know?

Then there is the curious addition of this notation after the invitation to "clisk here" and the e-mail address of someone named "Marty" (probably Carole's helpful older brother):

band microbial jackpot skull elliot deposition meg agribusiness domesticate inalienablemidrange emerald pedant bloodstone troutman operatic paintbrush angie contradistinguishdew enol vibrant fractionate dissipate ferocity tableland champ triumphant necessary practicemeadowsweet charley confident substantiate workplace cerebral dragon stimulusfuzzy purse bespeak reverse boom windy irrefutable obeyturnout abstractor maintenance mansfield ascertain byte anticipate card

I don't know what this says or means. Is this important coding data I am not supposed to see left there by mistake? Is it somehow related to the size of my penis? A secret message? What's this about "skull" and who are "elliott" and "troutman" and "angie" and "mansfield"? Maybe it's a list of final-round words for a spelling bee. Is an invitation to make "the old club member" larger actually some diabolical move by Osama bin Laden to sneak instructions for future mischief to one of the world's many third-most powerful terrorists that Rumsfeld keeps announcing he has captured every few weeks? And how big are their dicks? Maybe this e-mail was intended for one of them!

I'll be sure to write more if I get another letter from Carole.

Lies

The most entertaining aspect of the White House/SNA domestic spying debacle is that, in attempting to justify something so blatantly illegal, the bush bunch has refused to "confirm or deny the existence of such a program" and then comes up with a half-dozen reasons why it was necessary for them to do it, each reason more outrageous than the one before. It's like the kid who screamed at his parents, "I never lie! But do you want to know why I lie?"

Recounting the exploits of the Bush administration on "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart" the host has noted that some weeks he feels guilty about taking a paycheck. The White House is providing the comedy for him without seeming to realize it. Admittedly, though, it would be a lot funnier if so many people didn't die or have their lives turned upside down by such stunts.

-----
Some people might recall the mantra of the Republican Party in the United States for more than eight years was that the reason for its fevered pursuit of President Bill Clinton was not because he allowed a young woman to repeatedly perform acts of oral gratification on his person, as well as the "fact" that he allegedly potentially engaged in countless sexual acts with numerous women, both real and imagined. No, that didn't bother the Republicans. It was the lying!

The Republicans had no problem with two people having sex, provided they were married adults engaged in said sex within the confines of said marriage and that one was male and one was female. And they were free to do all this in the privacy of their own homes. Whether or not they kept their clothes on or the lights on was up to them. A little John Tesh on the CD player was okay, should said couple want to crank up the passion. No, Republicans don't mind sex.

It's the lying they couldn't stand about Clinton. That's why he needed to be driven from office by law or simply because, in the judgment of moral icons Gingrich, Tom DeLay, Pat Robertson, Jerry Fallwell, Rush Limbaugh, William Bennett, Hannity, O'Reilly, Cheney and Bush, President Clinton lacked the "moral authority" whatever that is, to lead the country, despite what the public thought.

President Clinton lied about whether or not he was getting hummers from a woman. He was. And Republicans hate liars.

No information has been verified as to whether or not any Republicans are having sex. On other matters, however, there seems to be a doubt as to whether or not Republicans in very public places have been responsible for violations of most laws ever enacted and then lying about it, such as: revelations regarding weapons of mass destruction; the "patriot" act; torture; illegal search; invasion of privacy; domestic surveillance; secret prisons, denial of due process; misappropriation of public funds; dereliction of duty; war profiteering...… Then there a few of my personal favorite crimes I'd hang on bush & company, such as the inability to communicate with the mental or verbal agility of a public school sixth-grader and pretty much generally coming off as clueless thugs.

A recent cover story in The Nation made a case for "the Impeachment of George W. Bush" and in the same month a Rolling Stone cover asked if he was "The Worst President in History?"

On May 16, Michael Tackett wrote in the (strongly Republican) Chicago Tribune, "The erosion of support for the president on nearly every issue, including his handling of terrorism and the Iraq war, has left him with Nixonian approval ratings while he has much less sand remaining in the hourglass of his second term. And Bush's ratings have nothing to do with scandal or personal indiscretion; the numbers suggest a vote of no confidence on the core issue of competence."

Competence. Hmm. So, does that mean Mr. Bush didn't lie, but that perhaps he and his team were just too incompetent to know what they were doing? It's certainly food for thought. After six years of what Bush describes as this "robust" economy, it's about the only food some people can afford.

-------
Well. Here's what I think. We grew up thinking knowledge is power, but the bush bunch thinks secrecy is power. It's the stupid attitude that says "Oh yeah, you might be smarter than me (as in Clinton, Gore, Kerry, Kennedy, et al), but we know something you don't know, so nya, nya, nya." So they take a procedure or a program they can do legally, such as spying, immigration reform, awarding sweetheart contracts, giving shit to their enemies, etc, and they find a secret way to do it because to do it secretly makes them feel more powerful. And it helps them to amass zillions, instead of mere billions. That makes them feel powerful. BUT it does not add a single inch or ounce to their very small, uh... brains. That's just my opinion.

Baby Boomers -- the Reality Check


Remembering Woodstock…

If a picture is worth a thousand words, what's a word worth?

When the word is Woodstock, the answer is millions - in dollars and in more words offered up in books, films and stories, both real and imagined. Woodstock, in its own way, was like Korea, Katrina or Christmas... words that conjure up unforgettable pictures or scenes. It is also now folklore, larger and more important as time passes.

I know.

I was there.

Okay, I wasn't exactly there, but then so were a few million other guys who claim they were there not there. Although one of my best friends was really there and I can say first-hand that he's no more interesting to be around than he was before going there. So, if you weren't able to make it, you can stop beating yourself up about it, okay?

"I was at Woodstock" is something a lot of boomer guys say to impress other boomer guys and women if they think it will make them seem more interesting or help them get laid. It's been known to work on occasion.

Woodstock or, more correctly, the Woodstock Music and Art Fair, most people know by now wasn't actually held in the town of Woodstock, but at Max Yasgur's 600-acre farm in Bethel, New York in the low Catskills. Thousands of people, some claim as many as a half-million, mostly between the ages of 17 and 25, came together to smoke some dope, inhale some dope, ingest some dope, and hear music performed by some of the best musicians of the day, several of whom are not alive today, owing in no small measure to their affinity for dope.

As musicians took the stage, many shared their views regarding the American government's war and drug policies - the kinds of things they said they would be willing to die over if the government had not already arranged to have them killed by either sending them to Vietnam or having some sneaky CIA guy pretend to be a harmless drifter hanging around college campuses taking their names and photographs. And the FBI was just as bad. Right on... as we used to say, though I don't remember why.

Some people claim that undercover FBI and CIA agents actually made up approximately 69 percent of the audience for the Woodstock festival. Others put the estimate higher.

Anyway, the crowd at Woodstock in 1969 was for peace, love, integration, loud music, and as little clothing as possible. The performers were for peace and love and were against greed and commercialism, particularly the swine running their record companies who were obviously screwing them out of millions of dollars in royalties.

Woodstock was the music, as demonstrated by the best-selling double record album and cassette tapes released soon after the event.

It was also the joy, as shown on the faces of those photographed for both the paperback versions and the lovely hardcover books. If you happened to miss those, virtually the same images were reproduced on t-shirts and caught on film for the documentary motion picture.

Woodstock was an occasion of such singular importance that a song was written about it. To date millions of records have been sold of various versions by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Joni Mitchell, Mathews Southern Comfort, and others. Most are now only available on K-tel reissues in places like Wal-Mart and Target stores. Times change.

But what's important is that the event was historic, a true love-fest, which explains why so many women were photographed dancing bare-chested. That always makes an event more festive for me anyway.

It was a major protest against war, oppression, the government, hate and old people who had screwed up things so now they couldn't be trusted.

It was before recycling was popular so the environmentally conscious crowd left the farm looking like a 600-acre garbage dump.

But what's a few thousand pounds of trash compared to an event that was a rallying point, an anthem, and a symbol.

It was people all coming together, yet going in different directions, all linked by a powerful emotional bond, like the one kids have when they're about 12 or 13, leaving camp at the end of the summer, knowing they will always be friends, no matter what, with the five other kids who shared their tent, even if they can't remember their names.

The memories burn forever bright, like an eternal flame, only cheaper to maintain and not a problem in bad weather.

The sounds, the faces, the headbands, the topless blond girl named Linda [Call me, pleeeeease!!!], the one-ness and the lack of sanitation facilities...

In the years that followed, promoters tried to recreate the magic that was Woodstock. No chance. For all the cash and hype, their pre-fab attempts fizzled. Maybe the closest thing was Lilith Fair, described as a sort of Lesbian almost-Woodstock.

All in all, it takes more than a half-million people with long hair, guitars and some dope to make a festival or a generation. Thousands of women going braless, however, is a start and it's probably a good idea for them to keep trying.

Such moments are to live for, to unite us, to cherish, and to be embellished, reframed and repeated every so often, if the publishing, TV, film and music rights deals can be worked out. Boomers, so many of whom are prominent entertainment industry lawyers today, understand such a sentimental notion and just might make it happen... if the price is right.…


Joe Marconi is a writer. He teaches at DePaul University and Columbia College in Chicago, and is a consultant on marketing communications for several leading companies and organizations. He is the author of thirteen published books available at amazon.com and other fine online booksellers and book stores everywhere.

PREVIOUSLY ON THE SEX, LIES AND BABY BOOMERS BLOG

A 40-Year Reality Check

[Watching the world and popular culture
with three (mostly open) eyes]

by Joe Marconi

Sex

To every thing there is a season

Is there a particularly good time of the year to have sex?

No. Sex is like eating, sleeping, reading and being disgusted with the Bush administration. It’s a year-round thing. When it comes to sex, women are as easy to figure out as the secret formula for Coca-Cola. Men are a little easier. Can a man keep from getting hot at the sight of a beautiful creature, an erotic photograph, an enticing fragrance, or a passing Volkswagen? No.

Yet, with a nod to the poets, we officially welcome Spring. It is said that in the Spring a young man’s fancy, much like the fancy of men at most other ages, turns to the same thing it turns to during the other three seasons, only this time the weather is nicer as one considers putting the fancy to use outdoors. Or, put another way… another season, another reason, for making something fancy. It almost makes losing an hour of sleep worth it.


Apparently, we’ll always have Paris

On the subject of sex, fancy or not, the incredibly talented Paris Hilton reportedly said recently that she would never have her boobs done because it would cheapen her image. Let’s pause here to let the full weight of that comment sink in. Ms. Hilton, whose occupation is “being an heiress” gained international attention – some might call it “fame” in a Monica Lewinsky sort of way – by starring in a two-minute and fifty-six second reality show that can be viewed on the Internet, if one has a major credit card and no self-respect. It’s refreshing now to learn that Ms. Hilton does not wish to cheapen her image, which is already slightly cheaper than the average K-Mart blue-light special. At the risk of being unkind, does anyone know this woman’s IQ?


The stuff that dreams are made on

Did someone mention sex? This might be a good plan to get kids to stay in school: Put them in Miss LaFavre’s class.

Debra LaFavre is the 25 year-old bleached blonde teacher with enormous boobs who put out for her teenage student. Her story will keep the flame of hope alive in high school boys for generations to come. Many lads fantasize about screwing their pretty teachers with unbelievably large chests. In real life, however, even the horniest adolescents know the chance of that actually happening are not great. Then along comes a Debra LaFavre and we’ve got wishes coming true in ways that genies in bottles never imagined.

A few years back the infamous Mary Kay Letourneau appeared to have more than a screw loose when she was discovered screwing her young student. And Pam Smart’s passion for a teenage lover was driven by her desire to get the kid to kill her husband. What woman hasn’t tried that old ploy?

Mary Kay was “in love” and Pam was “motivated” (as well as nuts), but Debra LaFavre is different. It’s as if a porn actress walked right out of the DVD box and into the classroom. Think of it as a “no child left behind” program at the nearest motel.

Talk about an education! Though guilty of criminal behavior, Deb’s lawyer said she couldn’t go to jail because she is too beautiful. Imagine what Johnnie Cochran or Gerry Spence could do with that line. Truth be told, Debra’s beauty is much like that of a Jenna Jameson or an Anna Nicole Smith, which is to say that if your tastes run to the overtly slutty, the line forms in the cafeteria after fourth-period Biology.

But not all boys have fantasies about their teachers – and that goes double for the ones whose teachers are nuns.

My own teenage daydreams included only one unattainable fantasy: the incredibly beautiful June Cochran. It was love at first sight. Never mind that I only knew her perfect smile, perfect face, and perfect naked body from a well-read issue of Playboy. She was Miss December. I really don’t remember much about her now – just that she was born in Indianapolis and her birthday was February 20. She was 5’2” and102 pounds. And 36-20-34. And she liked dancing and water skiing and she thought Corvettes were a turn-on. And she was beautiful.

I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt the way I did about her. A gorgeous blond woman doesn’t get to be Miss December because people are impressed with her baton twirling alone.

Years after my first June Cochran fantasy I saw a photograph of her and learned she had a daughter, who was also offering herself as fantasy material for Playboy readers of another generation. The daughter was pretty enough, particularly when photographed posing naked in her apartment. She seemed to be good at that. But if I recall correctly the old photo layouts, no one did naked in an apartment as well as her mom. June Cochran probably could have taught a course called "How to be Naked in an Apartment" and made a fortune – she was that good.

I use the word “was” because June Cochran died a couple of years ago. She was 62 and bore very little resemblance to the young woman whose striking face and figure have lived in a corner of my mind for most of my life. She never went on to become a movie star or a TV star or to make records or write bestsellers or live with Elvis at Graceland after he was dumped by Priscilla for that karate teacher and he, sadly, put on all that extra weight.

The last photos I saw of June Cochran hinted that the years might have been hard on her. It wasn’t just her face and body that had changed with age; there was something in her eyes – or rather, something not in her eyes. She looked very tired, maybe sort of sad.

I never got to have sex with her, though it would appear someone else did. I guess that’s all right. I hope he treated her with the respect due someone who was a dream girl for teenagers and a good number of older chaps in the 1960s. That was a rough decade, what with war, Nixon, and not enough people making love not war.

But in our fantasies, people never get old. We get to stay the way we were or the way we want to be. An occasional daydream of making love to June Cochran takes place back then, perhaps on a California Beach, before going for a long walk together along the shore. It was how some of us mentally distanced ourselves for a short time from the real world, the war and dark times that surrounded it. That alone should rate June being considered for the Nobel Prize – certainly at least for the fantasy version of it.


Lies


While, technically, time doesn’t fly…

In our first month, we had more than one million visitors to this blog.

Okay, that was a lie. I have no idea how many visitors the blog has had, but I do know people have made very positive comments, such as “I plan to read it one of these days” and “Who has the time to read all those blogs?” That’s exactly the point: this blog was created so people will not have to read the other 28 million (I counted them this afternoon) blogs.


We started out thinking that the big lie of the week would not involve President George W. Bush. We got as far a Monday before the news headline changed our mind.

On March 27, An Associated Press story began, “US President George W. Bush made clear to British Prime Minister Tony Blair in January 2003 that he was determined to invade Iraq without a UN resolution and even if UN arms inspectors failed to find weapons of mass destruction in the country, The New York Times reported.

This after Bush had been steadfastly insisting publicly that this was not the case. Not that we like falling back on technical military jargon, but it appears President Bush would not recognize the truth if it rode up to his Texas ranch on a white horse and bit him on the ass. The president needed to head for his ranch to relax after spending a few days posing for pictures with the leaders of Canada and Mexico in Cancun. Who wouldn’t need a vacation after a tough gig like that?

Just Ask Graydon

A couple of weeks ago, at an airport in, of all places, Houston, Texas I noticed a man reading a story about the mishandling of the war in Iraq in Vanity Fair magazine. Who would have figured that Vanity Fair, once among the preeminent fashion magazines – and still heavy with fashion, fragrance and jewelry ads and profiles of what used to be called “the beautiful people” – would become one of the most literary, entertaining, and informative of monthly journals, offering in-depth articles on a wide range of subjects by truly excellent writers? Each month editor Graydon Carter writes an upfront piece that is usually worth the price of the magazine by itself. Recently he wrote:

The C.E.O. administration, as the George Bush White House liked to call itself when it came into office in 2000 – before it became the “Mission Accomplished” administration in 2003 – has become the semantic administration. Or, if you’re actually a student of language, the anti-semantic administration. Like the Clinton White House before it, the Bush crew has imprisoned the English tongue. What is, or is not, torture? What is, or is not, extraordinary rendition (in laymen’s terms, “the outsourcing of torture”)? Does the C.I.A., or does it not, operate foreign torture prisons? What is, or is not, global warming? The complete brilliance of the Bush administration is that the president has further clouded discourse (perhaps inadvertently) by devising a game plan altogether new in American politics – the One Damned Thing After Another Doctrine. In its simplest terms, it is this: Screw up as many things in as many areas as possible, and in as little time as possible, and pray that neither the press nor the public will ever be able to keep up with all of it.

It all seems so much clearer now. This, of course is not to be confused, with the Bush administration revealing that after the president said, in effect, if he found out who leaked CIA operative Valerie Plame’s identity to reporters he would remove that person from his administration. It was learned recently that Mr. Bush himself had authorized the leak. The agile – make that club-footed – attempt at damage control had the silver fork-tongued spokesfolks in the White House explaining that Bush thought it was "in the public interest" to declassify the document that included Plame’s identity some ten days after he revealed it, which of course in Bushland is perfectly legal.

Readers may now pause to slap their heads.

The Bush Family Has Always Been Good With Money. sort of

By the time the S&L crisis was over in the early 1990s – on the first President George Bush’s watch – it was, by all measures, the most expensive financial collapse in American history. Between 1980 and 1993, some 1,307 S&Ls with more than $603 billion in assets went bankrupt, at a cost to taxpayers of nearly $500 billion. Bankers walked away from their swindles, mistakes and screw-ups and future generations will be paying off this tab long after we - and George Bush - are dead.

Now another President George Bush, pretending to be a “CEO president” who has surrounded himself with people who say they can add and subtract, will stick those same future generations with additional mega-billions of debt. As Bush I used to like to say, “There’s a pattern here…”

Now, Let’s Go to the Map…

Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice insisted adamantly to an interviewer, “Iran is not Iraq.” Finally, something we can agree on.




Baby Boomers

Vietnam Was Never Actually Such a Great Place to Visit

One of the truly meaningful contributions the baby boomer generation made to the culture was the phrase, “This sucks!”

Of course, there have been variations on the phrase since its formal introduction in the late ’60s, but that’s true of everything. Blue M&M’s, for example. The war in Vietnam was the most significant occurrence to which we awarded the declaration, “This sucks!”

Until Vietnam, people were not routinely ridiculed for being patriotic. – even the phonies. Members of the military services were treated generally with respect and admiration. There was even a certain shared pride in being seen with a soldier or sailor who had come home "on leave."

But during the Vietnam era the charge that the U.S. government had lied to its people about the war was leveled so loudly and often — with evidence provided to support it — that the horrible war in southeast Asia became a civil war back home. Arguments about Vietnam were no longer just opinions that reflected a “generation gap.”

We were swept along in an anti-war movement that gained momentum. Demonstrations and open resistance to the draft were only beginning. Hawks, as supporters of the war were called, made patriotism an issue. They insisted it was a young person's duty to serve, to fight and, if necessary, to die without ever questioning or challenging the correctness of the policy of the government. "My country, right or wrong ...," was all they needed to say. It was enough for them and enough to trigger outrage against anyone taking the other side of the argument.

When finally Senator Eugene McCarthy openly challenged the government’s war policy, he could not be dismissed as just another protesting, longhaired, hippy freak.

And when Senator Robert Kennedy, whose brother as president had sent troops to Vietnam, said that if JFK had lived, he would pull those troops out, the protesters were even more convinced of the righteousness of their cause. Later, Martha Mitchell, the outspoken, often cartoonish wife of President Nixon's attorney general, soberly criticized a government "of old men sending young men off to die." The effort to end the war became a holy crusade.

Vietnam seemed the first thing on our minds in the morning and the last thing at night, with the possible exception of sex, which took a back seat to not even matters of country, life or death. We were the generation waiting each day for the mail, for word from the draft board that life, as we knew it, was about to change.

Some young men would claim to be "conscientious objectors" and fight induction. Others would slip over the U.S./Canadian border and refuse to serve. Still others would scramble for student deferments or service in Reserve units or the National Guard, whose likelihood of being called up or pressed into action seemed remote.

America was divided in ways unseen for a century. We grew up pledging allegiance to the flag every morning in school and proud of being Americans. Now we heard stories of American pilots dropping Napalm (a registered trademark of Dow Chemical Company) on Asian villagers ... and we were not proud.

After Vietnam, many of us were cynical, distrusting the government and most other institutions — schools, churches, Dow Chemical Company, the Post Office ...

It didn't help much when Presidents Johnson and Nixon used the FBI, CIA, IRS, and newly created sneaky clubs to spy, harass and discredit persons who had disagreed publicly with them or had spoken against the war. It sucked.

Returning soldiers were denied the heroes’ welcome their predecessors received. It took more than 20 years for enough emotional dust to settle to even create a Vietnam Veterans' Memorial. Those who had served in previous conflicts had a hard time accepting that by pulling out of Vietnam without achieving a victory, the United States actually, if not technically, lost a war. Those of us who regard the ’50s and early ’60s as happy days knew the first time we heard of Saigon, Mekong and the Gulf of Tonkin, those days would be fewer and further between. More than 25 years later, a discussion of the U.S. role in Vietnam in 1965 is still a surefire way to spoil a party.

Several powerful members of the U.S. Congress are very pro-military and believe in maintaining a strong arsenal and military presence. Same for the inner circle of President George Bush's team. When they were eligible for military service in Vietnam, they all had good excuses for not going — reasons such as the dog ate their induction papers and they had lost the address of the Army reporting place. When it’s not them doing the fighting, they have become not just patriotic, but brave, tough-talkin’ patriots. We boomers are like that.

Joe Marconi is a writer. He teaches at DePaul University and Columbia College in Chicago, and is a consultant on marketing communications for several leading companies and organizations. He is the author of thirteen published books available at amazon.com and other fine online booksellers and book stores everywhere.

Prevously on the Sex, Lies and Baby Boomers blog...

Sex, Lies and Baby Boomers

A 40-Year Reality Check
[Watching the world and popular culture
with three (mostly open) eyes]

by Joe Marconi


Sex

How Baby Boomers Invented Sex

A lot of jokes are made about sex -- maybe more than about any other subject. And why not? Sex can not only be fun, but funny too, except prior to the mid1950s when all the sex education books, films and related materials warned that there was nothing at all funny about sex. It was for procreation only. So do it, get it over with and, for God's sake, do not, under any circumstances, enjoy it!

It was not until the late 1950s and into the '60s, as baby boomers began coming of age, that sex was officially designated as both an entertainment form and something to do while screaming "Oh yeah!" and "Oh baby!" repeatedly in a previously undiscovered tone of voice. And that is when the jokes started big time. (Note: To people who are leaping to your keyboards to point out that Aeschylus supposedly cracked a really good joke about sex shortly after an eagle, dropped a tortoise on his (Aeschylus's) bald head in 456 BC: that story is bullshit.)

For several years now the debate has been about whether or not sex gets better as one (or more) of the participants get older, or does it only get funnier? That's a good question. And there is probably a good joke in there. But a better question is about the quality/quantity issue: Is sex better if experienced less frequently or more often, say, several times a day vs. a couple of times a month or only on Christmas morning? A lot of people have visited this subject a lot of times and, interestingly, rarely does the room seem to rock with laughter when they do. Opinions run strong, especially in relationships that are more than a month old. (Note to readers: Your mileage may vary.)

An argument that starts with, "you are a disgusting pig" usually does not go on very long or find a very harmonious resolution. A more popular position is this: A rich dessert is great once in a while, but a lot of rich desserts will make the jeans that now fit like a glove easier to use as gloves than to try forcing them to contain an ass that has known too much strawberry Margarita cheesecake. So less sex is actually more enjoyable. The other side of this argument, of course, is, "So we'll both be fat."

Many married women feel it is better to put off having regular sex until after the kids die and the dog leaves home, or maybe it's the other way around. Whatever. This kind of logic usually results in an increase in subscriptions to National Geographic and Hustler and to men making frequent trips to infrequently used rooms.

It always comes back to questions of why people who used to love having a lot of sex together now don't. Is it someone's fault? Is it society? Is it because both Ann Landers and Dear Abby are dead and the night manager at the gas station doesn't speak English that people just don't know where to turn for direction? Maybe these couples were never compatible from the beginning.

As for solutions, old matchmakers have gone out of business. A web site offers people who are only looking for sex a match-up with other people who are only looking for sex. They don't want relationships. The site claims to have more than 19 million members, many of them married. So what's going on? If 19 million people online at one web site alone want someone to screw, what's the deal with so many couples thinking they don't need to couple anymore?

I have given this a lot of thought and I have the answer, well, several answers actually. I have written a small, but brilliant little piece of business called 7 Steps to Great Sex because most of the people I know can't remember more than seven related things unless they are written down in front of them and sometimes not even then. This is a very inexpensive piece ($4.95 plus shipping and handling) and if only half the 19 million people on that one web site buy it, that will cover the printing and we pass the savings on to you (holding back a modest amount for the folks "here in the lab" and donating a bottle of Viagra to Bob Dole who, you might recall, was having a problem getting it up while apparently President Clinton was not, thus the outcome of the 1996 election).

Send for the little sex thing today. The first 100 people to order will receive it in an envelope at no extra charge. Think of it as one of the advantages of living in a democracy.

A noted scholar (I think it was David Frost) once said, "Democracy is like sex. When it's good it's great; when it's bad, it's still pretty good."


Lies


Tie a Yellow Magnet on the SUV

There are so many millions of those colorful magnetic illustrations of yellow ribbons stuck to the backs of cars, trucks and other moving things, all emblazoned with the words "Support Our Troops" that I keep wanting to get up alongside the drivers and yell, "I DO support our troops! Everyone LOVES our troops! It's the clucks who got us into this needless, senseless war, while still managing to run the country off the road that I can't support!"

And then I come upon a quote such as this one from the recent Zogby poll of US troops in Iraq. According to the reporting source, While 85% (of US military personnel) said the U.S. mission is mainly "to retaliate for Saddam's role in the 9-11 attack," 77% said they also believe the main or a major reason for the war was "to stop Saddam from protecting al Qaeda in Iraq."

Well. What does one say after that? It would appear the military's lone source for information over there is Fox News, always providing the fair and balanced opinions of the Bush administration and assorted right-wing chicken hawks and self-hating lunatics and liars, and I mean that in the just nicest way. To our troops: stay safe; look both ways before crossing the desert; and come home soon; God speed.

(source for poll data: Lies.com, Posted by jbc on March 2nd, 2006)

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What Would Speedy Gonzalez Do?

Pat Boone used to be a very famous pop singer, then an actor, then a TV star, later a notoriously bad investor, and finally a devout, high profile Christian and supporter of various Republican politicians. So far, all that should not be enough to embarrass baby boomers who made him a wealthy man by purchasing millions of copies of "Love Letters in the Sand" and "Moody River" and lining up to see him turn in brilliant performances in the cinematic classics "April Love" and "State Fair." Until this week.

Pat, which in Mr. Boone's case is short for Charles, wrote a 1,230-word piece for the March 16 edition of the conservative blog NewsMax. The headline reads, "Nobody Has Laid a Glove on the WMD Conventional Wisdom" and Pat points out at the very beginning that he is, "neither prophet nor genius on this stuff." Fair enough. But then he quickly declares, "We do have enough evidence and detail coming in now to declare mystery solved." He notes that there are "verified audio tapes revealing Saddam Hussein in his palace meetings discussing his WAND and ways to hide evidence and smuggle them over the Syrian border in the period before the U military came calling in earnest."

The thousands of tons of explosives dumped on Iraq would indeed qualify as "calling in earnest." But that's not Pat's point. His point is that the "mainstream media" -- which is what right-wing conservatives used to call the "liberal media" until it no longer seemed to resonate, and now refers apparently to everything that is not the Fox News Channel -- is not reporting that Bush, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, et al, were right! Imagine!

Pat concedes that mere audio tapes lack the "Abu Ghraib pornographic element to juice the story," but notes that "those old Nixon White House tapes, and these recent pre-Katrina tapes evidencing too-casual official preparedness, had none either. Yet they got plenty of broadcast repetition."

The only obvious conclusion t be drawn from this lack of coverage, of course, is that the "mainstream media" that isn't Fox would rather eat old, damp Howdy Doody wood shavings than ever run a story about how George Bush was right. Pat seems to share Rush Limbaugh's belief that "the media," like "the liberals" hates George Bush! They hate America! And the Bible! And the truth! Damn you, New York Times!

Oh Pat, Pat, Pat... One must remember that there are at least two sides to every campaign of disinformation, distraction, distortion and deception. That's a lot of d's to absorb at one time.

A certain reigning administration that has managed to make everything it touches turn to doo-doo is blatantly engaged in an aggressive strategy of attacking anyone who is either criticizing it, challenging it, or asking questions about what it is doing. Don't bother to bring up that this is part of what the news media does, in addition to simply reporting what happens, and not just one side's version of what happens.

So go figure that the media would be under attack by the Bush Bunch, which received a virtual pass on its numerous mistakes and misdeeds until its ignoring a hurricane that nearly took out two states could not be ignored. Rather than offering a simple "oops" the Bunch goes on the offensive, attacking reporters for the stories they do not report, whether they are stories or not.

Can anyone honestly say the Bush administration's policies, programs, explanations, justifications, pronouncements and platitudes have gone unreported in the general media? Has any media outlet not covered the erudite Scott McClellan's daily press briefings? Have Donald Rumsfeld's brilliantly informative non-answers to reporters' questions at his regular briefings gone unreported too? Is President Bush finding no one will show up or broadcast or report his speeches and photo ops?

Does America not get a daily dose, at least, of Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly, William F. Buckley, William Bennett, Laura Ingraham, Michael Savage, Brit Hume, Tucker Carlson, Larry Elder, Mona Charen, Michelle Malkin, Pat Buchanan, Michael Medved, Oliver North, Linda Chavez, G. Gordon Liddy, Robert Novak, John McLaughlin, Cal Thomas, George Will, Tony Blankley, Gloria Borger, Charles Krauthammer, Tony Snow, Emmett Tyrrell, Brent Bozell, James Glassman, Fred Barnes, Walter Williams, Phyllis Schlafly, Jonah Goldberg, and numerous others on radio, TV, in newspapers, online or, in some cases, all of the above?

Is there no longer a Wall Street Journal, New York Post, Chicago Tribune, Washington Times, National Review, or Weekly Standard? And who gets credit for Ann Coulter, Bernard Goldberg, Mary Matalin and Peggy Noonan?

So right-wing conservatives can't get their side of the story out, even though they are on everything but Milky Way wrappers?

Pat Boone, like George Bush, needs to understand that just saying something doesn't make it true. But if Pat is to be the new spokes-celebrity for the right, he needs to take on an issue and dumping on the media is a pretty much can't-lose issue to start with.

In 1997 Pat recorded a CD titled "No More Mr. Nice Guy" which was intended to be a tongue-in-cheek collection of heavy metal tunes like Smoke on the Water and Stairway to Heaven. Imagine how surprised some of us were when much of his Christian constituency failed to get the joke, only experiencing even more severe palpitations when he appeared at the American Music Awards bare-chested, wearing a black leather vest and fake tattoos. He was quickly dumped from his Trinity Broadcasting Network program "Gospel America". Maybe this is penance for the tattoos.

Having announced last year that he was packing it in and leaving show business (although he just released a new CD of romantic ballads last month), Pat seems to be speaking on behalf of George Bush's reason for going to war three years ago, asking people in his NewsMax piece to "Tell your friends and neighbors. There were WMD in Iraq!" even though that was said not to be the case by vast numbers of experts around the world.

Pat Boone's daughter Debby is married to George Clooney's cousin Gabriel Ferrer, son of the late singer Rosemary Clooney and actor Jose Ferrer. I don't know if the cousins are close or not, but I am curious about how George finds ways to mention to his cousin that father-in-law Pat has not come off as being quite so full of shit since he recorded Little Richard's Tutti Fruitti in 1956. Perhaps he'll perform that tune at the 2008 Republican Convention. I'd sure love to hear it again and it would certainly be something we could all look forward to watching together as a nation.
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Woody Allen Has My Permission to Use This

At least in the early years of his career as a writer-director-actor-comedian-genius Woody Allen was reported to have used the Manhattan phone book to get names for his movie characters. This method brought forth Fielding Mellish (in Bananas), Virgil Starkwell (in Take the Money and Run), Victor Shakapopulis (in Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex * But Were Afraid to Ask), Victor Shakapopulis again (in What's New, Pussycat), and Dr. Eudora Nesbitt Fletcher (Mia Farrow's character in Zelig). All this was before the Internet and spam.

Names are important. A million articles begin with, What's in a name? Some are about choosing a splendid name for an adorable baby or creating a writer's pen name or how famous actors got their stage names. This report addresses none of those. This is about deciding whether or not to open unsolicited e-mail, based on the name of the sender.

Apparently, spammers think I am more likely to buy Vicodan, Viagra and Naked Pictures of Bored, Sex-starved Housewives (also available in DVD format) (NOT AVAILABLE IN STORES) at incredibly low prices from someone named "Judy" or from an "Efrain Minsky." I am guessing someone gave this a lot of thought.

Some names on this list appear to be misspellings of what might be actual names, but this is how they arrived. I would not presume to edit or take liberties with a Mitzie Omeara or Candido Poles.
Apart from around 20 spams a day from Chase Manhattan (where I do not have, nor have I ever had, an account), the names of my spam senders (still hawking mostly drugs and mortgages, though I did get three from "The Towel Center" and eight from Christian Debt Helpers) have included:

Criselda Colunga
Shavonne Crites
Fumiko Fields
Lakeisha Love
Trudy Blankenship
Catrina Domouchel
Myung Sheffler
Tara Hildreth
Brock Pagliarulo
Claudius Engelbert
Concha Greeley
Stefanie Fudge
Tonya Dufresne
Malisa Ledoux
Spring Salcido
Hassan Akrawi
Tamekia Rooker
Malka Zarate
Whitney Duarte
Farah Hardesty
Pasquale Caton
Kazuko Doan
Alex Pucillo
Florine P. Villarreal
Lude Belisle
Erin Chestnut
Doyle Guillaume
Rupert Cisneros
Kami Schofield
LaTanya Smith
Olivia Deese
Karey Couch
Junior True
Devon Lyles
Vidrine Jeannine
Inocencia Bair
Faustino Carlisle
Voncile Knighton
Thorn Ashraf
Rowena Waller
Randa Cepeda
Candido Poles
Celesta Testa
Tangela Dell
Daron Schoonover
Maxwell Lovato
Mckenzie Castleman
Chassidy Ponder
Hermy Micky
Kelsi DeVille
Misty Beverly
Vincenzo Luster
Yvonne Ybarra
Yolonda Brisano
Beau Oleary
Darren Costello
Forrest Gulick
Jerri Bragg
Brandon Fleetwood
Murray Beeman
Carly Barrios
Ophelia Jordan
Mitzie Omeara
Brendan Means
Eloy Sutherland
Paolo Toddie
Priest Celine
Charis Packard
Dolf DeRoos
Carlin Neddy
Cherish Sneed
Irina Knotts
Weston Flanagan
Laverna Hung
Belinda Thorne
Felix Wilkerson
Dave Wick Goor
Willia Brunner
Waldo McGrath
Shaquita Ashley
Hortense Brawner
Ignacio Riggs
Iva Hayden
Zacharia Doing
Efrain Minsky
Dudley Molina
Garth Vang
Elvin Holcolmb
Garth Connelly
Eugenia McCain
Greg Dill
Reels Royce
Eloisa Nixon
Haydee Brandenburg
Loris Swindell
Myriam Olszewski
Merna Farnsworth
Crissy Davidovi
Esukio Recendez
France Dickey
Candance England
Dorla Buck
Dr. Carmella Gagnon
Zachariah Murrain
Mrs. Simms
Mrs. Veronica
Chastity Maciel
Dr. Jonathan
Holli Shexnayder
Florentino Bartley
Monroe Livingston
Nick and Judy

Are any of these real people? I'm thinking, no. I've never responded to any of these emails. I don't know anyone who has ever responded to any of these emails. I'm tempted to say that, regardless of the offer, if I ever did respond, it would probably be to the ones from Thorn Ashraf or Paolo Toddie. But then, if I said that, it would be a lie.

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Baby Boomers


Statistically Divorced in Advance


Marriage is a solemn and sacred union, forever and ever, amen. Then, all of a sudden, boom (!)... It's over. The baby boomer generation has witnessed this as well as participated in it. Big time. Our parents stayed together long enough to have their 25th anniversary celebration, some of them even got to have a 50th. Most baby boomers act pretty smug if they are still together by the end of their honeymoon.

Look at a few examples of those who've been there: Sonny and Cher. James Taylor and Carly Simon. Elvis and Priscilla. Whatzername and me. Ha. Of course, I remember her name. It would be immature of me to pretend I didn't remember. Her name is Miss Bossy Pants. ( And, if she is reading this, she knows exactly which one of my former wives she is.)

In America, baby boomers have the highest divorce rate of any age group. So far. We also have the highest percentage of remarriages among divorced people, more second and third families, step kids, "blended families" and big car insurance premiums.

All these remarriages have been very good for people in the jewelry business who have gone out of their way to make us feel that we are not bad people, just because we seem largely incapable of sustaining mature relationships or because we can't stop screwing around. Fortunately, there are enough radio and TV call-in shows around to provide comfort to the broken-hearted, the insecure, and the formerly married. These programs are run by skilled professionals with names like Dr. Skip or Dr. Tammy. Boomers understand there is no point in trying to tell our stories to real grown-ups. They wouldn't understand.

Our parents, including the dads who were members of the Greatest Generation and moms who wore aprons, wanted to give us a better life. By the time we reached an age when people usually got married, the world had changed. The revolution had begun. Our parents were blindsighted, while many of us were just blind.

Screwing before marriage was not something boomers actually invented, but it was like The Twist -- something we took credit for inventing.

In 1960, one married couple in three divorced. By 1970, the number had grown to one in two and it keeps getting worse (or better, depending on whose side you are on). We were warned on the way to the alter that there was a less than 50/50 chance our union of souls would ultimately be put asunder, with lawyers paid by the hour to argue over who gets the Elton John albums.

As the bashful, beautiful, blushing bride in her off-white gown walks down the aisle to the screech of microphone feedback and her grade-school best friend singing We've Only Just Begun and The Wedding Song (Where There Is Love), it is fitting that guests are seated in sections designated "her people" and "his people." This same seating arrangement will be used when depositions are taken a few years later.

I am reminded of what a young man was told upon announcing his engagement: "Scott, be sure you want to go through with this. Marriage is a serious commitment. You're talking about six or eight years of your life!"

Supposedly men get married hoping their wives will never change and women hope their husbands will. Such thinking has been known to lead to disillusionment, disenchantment, disappointment and disassociation. Again, we see the misery that comes from infrequently spoken words beginning with d.

Studies show that divorces usually result from arguments over sex, money and children. Her mother, his beer-soaked buddies and "that stupid hat" place high on the list as well. Radical changes in physical appearance, such as weight fluctuation, is sometimes cited as a reason for breaking up. Another big reason mentioned is that there are too many Republicans in Congress.

I don't know.

My own study, scientifically conducted when I talked to a guy in a coffee shop Friday, shows that people can always negotiate issues of money, kids, family and politics if their (ahem) physical needs are being met. This, of course, takes us back to what you may have noticed is the thread running through this entire body of work, week after week, the adolescent preoccupation that never ends, the total obsession with sex.

Girls and women, from the age of about eleven, seem to be able to handle this better than their male counterparts. Not all boys and men are obsessed with sex. The three who are not are currently undergoing treatment somewhere in Pennsylvania. A fourth one is addressed as Monsignor Chuck. They'll be fine and we wish them well.

Among baby boomers, arguments erupt often because women expect their men to stop dating other women after they get married. The confusion surrounding this subject has been addressed through open marriage, group sex, support groups, HBO, and 6.7 million lawyers named "Mr. Levine."

Fooling around, which the average baby boomer seems to do with the ease of a traveling salesmen, is probably the biggest reason for divorce, but it's not only men who are doing it, despite what some people have said about my friends and me.

Billy Crystal said women needed a reason to fool around, while men just needed a place. While that may have been true historically, women are catching up. Cher, Madonna, whoever is the girl with nice hair on the cover of People this week, and most women on cable TV are typical of the women today who "go for it" and other women and girls are following their lead.

Better financial circumstances of many boomer women, as compared to their mothers and grandmothers, have not only resulted in women leaving unsatisfactory relationships, but in sometimes offering to pay for both dinner and the room.

Divorce, once rare and now common in the best of families, is an accepted part of boomer life. Prenuptial agreements recognize that happily ever after means about three to five years (the same as the sentence for bouncing a check in Wisconsin). Splitting up is a huge business, supporting numerous professions, associations and large segments of the publishing and country music industries. Hearts are broken. Lives are torn apart. Dreams have died. Thank God I still have my old address book.

The next big innovation resulting from baby boomer divorces is likely to be a theme park near the cemetery and just off the freeway.

Alas, if the tragic, devastating, emotionally-wrenching end of a great love story is to be, then we might as well at least have a few roller coasters, merry-go-rounds, souvenir shops and a decent place to buy a hot dog or a burrito to mark the occasion. Besides, it's a nice place to meet people.


Joe Marconi is a writer. He teaches at DePaul University and Columbia College in Chicago, and is a consultant on marketing communications for several leading companies and organizations. He is the author of thirteen published books available at amazon.com and other fine online booksellers and book stores everywhere.

SexLiesAndBabyBoomers

PREVIOUSLY ON THE SEX, LIES, AND BABY BOOMERS blog:


Coming: CULTURAL IDIOCY: Why America is Losing the War of Words
- a new book by Joe Marconi

Sex, Lies and Baby Boomers
A 40-Year Reality Check
[Watching the world and popular culture with three (mostly open) eyes]

by Joe Marconi


Sex


Newsweek is a pretty good magazine. A few weeks ago Newsweek took a break from covering the wild sex habits of teenagers to look at “Sex and Love: The New World” – the page 51 cover story that carried a somewhat less exciting title than its cover had suggested, “Sex & the Single Boomer” a line boldly positioned above a boldly-blurred-through-bifocals photograph of a boldly naked 40-something woman appearing boldly ready for, uh, business.

I know a lot of people who hate articles about teens and sex because (1) they don’t want to believe their kids – or their grandkids – are actually doing that stuff, and (2) they really hate being told their kids are getting more sex than they themselves are.

So Newsweek informs us that 29% of adults ages 45 to 59 were unattached in 2003; 20% of older singles have sex once a week or more; 2% have sex daily; and 61% of sexually active older singles report having unprotected sex. Whoa! Forget about those product placements on MTV and Comedy Central – it looks like it’s time to slip some of those condom ads into reruns of “Matlock” and “Murder She Wrote.”

A guy who became insanely jealous when someone asked to dance with his wife said it was because he regarded dancing as “foreplay.” While an argument like that sounds vaguely like something that would be part of President Clinton’s defense strategy, it might also explain the renewed interest in dancing and why Chubby Checker always smiled so much.

Despite Jack Nicholson (age 68) and Diane Keaton (60) having several romantic, as well as comic, scenes in the hit film Something’s Gotta Give, the public does not encourage such displays. Kids still gag at even the mental picture of older people kissing, much less their “doing it” – whether the older people are Redford and Streisand or their own parents.

Maybe Newsweek will straighten everybody out with statistics about “older Americans” hooking up, getting it on, getting down, or whatever current expression addresses the time-honored acts of having a good grope and romp.

Let’s see some of that old American can-do spirit here! You 20% of older Americans who are having sex once a week or more – let’s see what we can do about those numbers. How about setting a goal of hitting 25% and TWO times a week or more by the year 2008, unless of course you are the Democratic presidential candidate, in which case, you might want to save your strength. But, hey(!) the rest of you aren’t all running for president. Let’s get moving here. Haven’t we been embarrassed enough by the huge strides made by our counterparts in Japan, India and China?

C’mon, old timers, let’s put those great old Johnny Mathis, Sinatra, and Barry White records to work again! Get up off your… er, down on your… just be about the business now! Tell your significant other this has nothing to do with being middle-age crazy or getting laid. This, for God’s sake,… is for America!

…………

Director Ang Lee is reportedly upset that his film did not win the best picture award at the Oscars this year. That’s got to be tough for him. I know how I felt when my books were not chosen for Pulitzer Prizes in my last 13 times at bat. But this section is about sex so let’s get back to the topic.

“Brokeback Mountain” might have been the subject of hundreds of lame jokes (and some that were really funny), but unlike “Staircase” or “Making Love” or other allegedly serious Hollywood dramas with gay love themes, audiences are taking this one seriously. People are actually accepting that men or women of the same sex can experience real love for each other with all the joy, pain and loneliness that love has.

So congratulations anyway to “Brokeback Mountain” for its very respectable showing at the Academy Awards show, as well as at the box office. The US has come a long way in accepting and appreciating social and cultural differences. Except maybe for the members of the Bush administration. Or members of the “religious” “right.” Or the NRA. Maybe not so much for a lot of the South... and the other “red states”… and the characters who make up the various extremist, separatist, sexist hate groups… and a pretty fair number of regular Republicans… and overwhelmingly all those who work for Fox News, the American Spectator, the Wall Street Journal, New York Post, and the Washington Times. And Domino’s Pizza. In the words of the ever-quotable Miss Emily Litella, never mind. Sorry, Ang.

………….

Thanks to the alert reader of this blog in California who called our attention to the most inadvertent of typos in the early March edition, wherein the “e” was omitted from “James” in a reference to former US president “James Buchanan.“ The error is particularly grievous because, having noted him in this report, I appear to be the American writer who has so far written the most about James Buchanan, who might best be remembered as the president who was born in a log cabin and was not Abraham Lincoln. In order to make this information fit appropriately into this section, it has been fairly reliably reported that both James Buchanan and Abraham Lincoln had sex, though probably not with each other.



Lies

The self-anointed patriots on the right accuse “liberals” and “the mainstream media” – two groups that include pretty much anyone who isn’t them – of lying when they say things such as “Hello” or, oh, let’s say, “Good night and good luck.” I guess it’s all in the eye of the beholder.

Some of us believe the highly organized group that runs the country has, so far, only screwed-up world peace, national security, the environment, Constitutional protections, the economy, education, health care, retirement, and the possibilities for people who don’t agree getting along with one another, then lying about it, usually crediting disastrous results of their actions to liberals, the “mainstream media” (which is all media except Fox News), Bill and/or Hillary Clinton, or Sean Penn.

The online magazine Salon.com takes a surprisingly kind view of the Bush Bunch, offering that, “Some lies are rooted in incompetence; others are based in boasting that's gone too far; and still others are intended to confuse and deceive.” Maybe. But it’s hard for some of us to cut them much slack after six years of inflicting damage and no signs of repentance.

The admittedly partisan website Bushwatch quoted Russ Rymer, writing last summer in the liberal magazine Mother Jones, noting, “In the Bush administration ‘the negation of truth is so systematic. Dishonest accounting, willful scientific illiteracy, bowdlerized federal fact sheets, payola paid to putative journalists, 'news' networks run by right-wing apparatchiks, think tanks devoted to propaganda rather than thought, the purging of intelligence gatherers and experts throughout the bureaucracy whose findings might refute the party line -- this is the machinery of mendacity...The point here is not the hypocrisy involved, though that is egregious. The point is the downgrading of truth and honesty from principles with universal meaning to partisan weapons to be sheathed or drawn as necessary. No wonder the Bush administration feels no compunction to honor the truth or seek it; it conceives truth as a tactic, valuable only insofar as it is useful against one's enemies."

An example of a lie on top of another lie – though, fortunately, in this case not having the life or death consequences of some of the others – is this story:

"[Castro] welcomes sex tourism," Bush told a room of law enforcement officials in Florida, according to the Los Angeles Times. "Here's how he bragged about the industry," Bush said. "This is his quote: 'Cuba has the cleanest and most educated prostitutes in the world.'"

"As it turns out, Bush had lifted that quotation not from an actual Castro speech but rather from a 2001 essay written by then Dartmouth University undergraduate Charles Trumbull. In the essay, Trumbull did appear to quote a Castro speech about prostitution. Sadly, the student made the quotation up.”

Okay – two lies, sure… But you have to admit it’s a cute story, even if Castro’s not a Democrat.
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Every once in awhile it’s nice to dust off one of the old chestnuts – a lovely quote that might seem even more poignant today than when it was first said. I like this one:

"To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public."
-Teddy Roosevelt
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As Dr. Freud never said, “Sometimes a czar is just a czar…”

The United States of America is most often called a democracy, though purists keep tut-tutting this and describing it as a repubic or a federalist republic. It’s curious that, after nearly 230 years, there is still so much debate about that. One thing is certain though: the U.S. of A. sure isn’t a monarchy, President Bush’s behavior and policies notwithstanding.

So if this is not a monarchy, why do we keep installing people in jobs and calling them czar? We have so far had an “Energy Czar” (William Simon), “Drug Czar” (William Bennett), “Terrorism Czar” (Richard Clarke), “Intelligence Czar” (John Negroponte), and a handful of others. Even Russia decided that having a czar wasn’t such a great idea and we are supposed to be smarter than the Russians. Sort of.

Which brings us to Paul Bremer, who was often referred to as a czar and actually had the power to go with it, after he was sent to take charge of Iraq, one of the newer U.S. suburbs, located east of everything Republicans like with sun and sand that isn’t Miami Beach.

Bremer was in on some of the current Bush administration’s big lies – he got a medal for it – and yet he seems to have slipped quietly away into obscurity.

So whatever became of Paul Bremer? A curious question to ask after just months and not years. What’s left when one is a Republican in Washington during a Republican administration and has apparently failed the lobbyist exam? Why, the book and lecture circuit of course!

Bremer writes in his book, published earlier this year, that he and the U.S. commanders on the ground saw the need for more troops as far back as 2003, but that “senior US military officials including the defense secretary, Donald Rumsfeld, tried to make him a scapegoat for their failings.” Mr. Bremer also claims he told Mr. Bush’s right-hand woman, the ersatz-presidential candidate Condoleezza Rice, “We’ve become the worst of all things: an ineffective occupier.”

Hey! That’s good stuff! Who is this guy? And why does he keep falling off the radar?

Lewis Paul Bremer III, sometmes referred to as “L. Paul Bremer” or “J. Paul Bremer” or “Paul Bremer” or "Jerry” was named U.S. Presidential Envoy to Iraq in May 2003. In June of that year President George W. Bush appointed Bremer to be the chief executive authority in that country, conferring upon him the title of U.S. Administrator of Iraq – a title, by the way, President Bush had no actual legal authority to confer.

But title, schmitel, it didn’t matter what Bremer was called (though he was called “czar”), he was effectively the top civil administrator of Iraq’s former Coalition Provisional Authority. As such, he was to oversee the US occupation of Iraq until the US determined Iraq could govern itself.

Three weeks after the US-led “coalition” invaded Iraq, humanitarian assistance for displaced refugees was militarly prevented. The murdering of journalists commenced immediately.

Under Bremer’s stewardship the Coalition Provisional Authority requested and received $12 billion in cash from the US treasury. An official report by the Special Inspector General for Iraq Reconstruction noted that $9 billion of that might have disappeared in frauds, corruption and “other misbehavior.” Okay, so nobody’s perfect.

Bremer issued decrees to modify Iraq's infrastructure, removed all restrictions on freedom of assembly, suspended the death penalty, upheld Saddam Hussein's anti-worker union laws, established a Central Criminal Court of Iraq, and shut down the newspaper, all in about as much time as it took to read this sentence. Now THAT’S democracy!

Critics claimed many of Bremer’s more extreme measures included firing thousands of school teachers and removing Ba’ath party members from top government positions, thus helping to create discontent among those who did not fit the socioeconomic profile of Iraq the US wanted.

Bremer was known in Iraq for wearing Brooks Brothers suits with desert combat boots (reportedly later bronzed for his grandchildren). Folks at the CPA referred to this snappy wardrobe combination as the "Bremer Look".

According to Harper’s Magazine, Bremer warned Iraqi malcontents that resistance was futile and said he thought the bombing was carried out by "outside" forces (because he wasn't sure the "ex-regime people" who had been shooting US soldiers knew how to make car bombs). He declared on November 26, 2003 that the situation in Iraq “is getting better all the time,” but warned a week later that attacks against occupying forces “will probably increase.”

He concluded that Iraq’s path to democracy would be messy, but noted, "It wasn't very pretty around here (the United States) either between 1776 and 1787." True, it WAS messy, but after 1787 the U.S. arranged to have a group of Polish cleaning women come in every other Saturday and do everything, but windows. (Okay, I made up that last one.)

L. Paul Bremer, who speaks Arabic, French, Dutch, Norwegian, Persian, German and Spanish, as well as English, holds a BA from Yale, an MBA from Harvard, a Certificate of Political Studies from the Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and an Honorary doctor of law degree from Ave Maria University in Naples, Florida.

It is clear that Bremer had a very major role in the build-up of US troops in Iraq and the conduct of both the war and occupation. And he says he does not want to be a scapegoat for Bush administration screw-ups. He seems to not be a big fan of Donald Rumsfeld. And he appears willing to talk.

So why isn’t anyone calling him?
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''Recruiters are under pressure, and they will say anything."
– Neil Berman, a lawyer for GI Rights Hotline, a national organization that advises enlistees who are trying to leave the military


Baby Boomers

Looking ahead to 30 Years Ago: Elvis Remembered… and Remembered… and… (cough)…

It still matters.

Elvis Presley was reported to have finally found Peace in the Valley in 1977 at the age of 42. When told Elvis was dead, a Hollywood agent supposedly remarked, “Good career move.”

Had things taken a different turn on a Memphis toilet seat that day, Elvis might be with us now, a certainly spry 71 in his leather suit, his black hair falling casually over his collar.

Elvis.com, the official Website, has already posted plans to celebrate his birthday in January 2007 with a full calendar of events. There is a good chance some merchandise might be available as well.

For our parents, the four-term presidency of Franklin Delano Roosevelt changed life in America. For baby boomers, clearly a major defining figure was Elvis.

It is true that Elvis Presley did not directly involve the United States in a war with Nazi Germany. Even his harshest critics would concede that.

And he wasn’t the political or spiritual giant other generations chased after, such as Ghandi or the Mormon guy in Salt Lake City who had several wives at one time but still managed to run a religion and get a university named after him. Yet, Elvis was a strong cultural influence during much of the 20th century and beyond.

All Shook Up was the first Elvis Presley record I ever bought. Critics used terms like “dirty” and “raw sex appeal” to describe him, but critics at that time mostly only seemed to influence each other. The ones who called him “Elvis the Pelvis” all had thick glasses, crew haircuts, wore brown shoes, and never got laid.

Millions of people ages 12 through 20 saw only a very cool guy, albeit in a greasy sort of way. All Shook Up came in a wrapper with Elvis’ picture on it, something that was unusual for pop records then. He was wearing a purple shirt, holding a yellow guitar and posed against a chartreuse background. The combination of colors was “pure Elvis” and an example of how he (and we) were breaking the rules, at least when it came to mixing colors we had been warned “did not go together.”

Elvis was special. He was so big (though the actual pounds would not come until much later) that the whole world knew him by his first name — like Fabio, Charo, or Tiffany... Okay, maybe those aren't good examples. Whatever.

With the possible exception of “Coke” (a registered trademark of the Coca-Cola Company), no name was as recognized around the world as Elvis. Cookbooks are written listing only recipes for his favorite meals. Kings, popes and presidents don’t get that sort of treatment. Did anyone write a book about the favorite meals of King Oscar of Norway, for example, or even the great Abraham Lincoln? Sure, they were nice guys, but as far as anyone cared, they could have eaten a can of generic tuna every night in front of the TV. Not Elvis. People cared what he ate, like they cared about everything else about him. His songs, his look, the motorcycles and greasy hair, and the food — burgers... fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches... meatloaf. Giant food. You never read about Ghandi eating meatloaf.

Elvis Aron Presley — It was noted often that he spelled his middle name incorrectly — came from Tupelo, Mississippi and made Memphis the place where he’d take care of business. He couldn't write music and both his piano playing and guitar picking sucked, but he had as great an influence on music as Beethoven, Mozart, and the guy who wrote that E-Z Piano Course. And Elvis had more hit singles than all of them combined. About three dozen gold records at a time when a gold record was more than a photo-op for some boy band that would be forgotten before the photo could be printed.

Why did we love Elvis so much? What was his amazing appeal? What set him apart from other entertainers and his fellow barely literate non-union former truck drivers? All good questions.

When he came on the scene, many critics said he had no talent. Some called him white trash. When he exited the scene formally some 20 or so years later, some people still called him that and a few even added "fatty" for good measure. People are often cruel, as well as rude, insensitive, cold, unpleasant, evil, malevolent, unctuous, obsequious, verbose, and real assholes, particularly about parking spaces.

Yet, no one could deny that Elvis had achieved the status of legend in not only music, but through an extensive catalog of fine giftware that included a variety of ash trays, clocks, sunglasses, jewelry, and pillow cases, to list just a few items. He was a cultural and social influence without equal. His songs bespoke the most personal feelings of a generation with just their titles: Don't Be Cruel, All Shook Up, Treat Me Nice, (You’re So Square) Baby I Don’t Care, and, of course, Crawfish.

From the first sightings of those Blue Suede Shoes in the Heartbreak Hotel, teenagers began imitating his lip-curling, deliberately crooked smile, his long hair and baggy mix-and-not-quite-match clothes. Girls screamed and fainted at the mention of his name and were revived to scream and faint again. His voice was imitated on records and in high schools.

As an actor, Elvis proved he could portray a singing race-car-driving delinquent delivery boy named Johnny or Lucky with the depth of an Orson Wells and, for a while at least, he weighed much less than Orson. Certainly the films Harem Scarum, Roustabout, Tickle Me, Paradise Hawaiian Style, and Girl Happy would never have been made without him.

He was the underdog who became the Leader of the Pack, the outsider, the loner, defiant and unsure, a misfit. Yet he was the one who could end up with Ann-Margret or Juliet Prowse.

If it happened to Elvis, it could happen to any one of us. Couldn’t it? We might just ride off into the closing credits on a big-ass Harley-Davidson with Connie Stevens or Natalie Wood or Dolores Hart (before Dolores became a nun, which, quite frankly, triggered a decline in her sex appeal for many of us). He could have a garage full of Cadillacs and a Rolls Royce. He could draw bigger crowds than giants like Shecky Greene or Nipsey Russell or Totie Fields on the strip in Vegas. He could die, drugged and bloated, sitting on the toilet in a second floor bathroom in his Graceland mansion — only to be spotted at a K-Mart in Michigan nearly 11 years later.

To young people who felt alone, alienated, self-conscious, couldn’t sing or act or eat greasy or heavy foods after a certain time of the day, Elvis was simply, as Arthur and Richard were before him, the King. And if he was All Shook Up, then damn it, so are we.
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It was around 1970 that these words were written. If anyone had told their author that the more things change, the more they stay the same, he would have probably done something involving excrement to that person. Here are the words:

We are here to make a better world.

No amount of rationalization or blaming can preempt the moment of choice each of us brings to our situation here on this planet. The lesson of the 60's is that people who cared enough to do right could change history.

We didn't end racism but we ended legal segregation.

We ended the idea that you could send half-a-million soldiers around the world to fight a war that people do not support.

We ended the idea that women are second-class citizens.

We made the environment an issue that couldn't be avoided.

The big battles that we won cannot be reversed. We were young, self-righteous, reckless, hypocritical, brave, silly, headstrong and scared half to death.

And we were right.
-- Abbie Hoffman


Sorry, Abbie.

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Okay. Baby Boomers want members of the older generation (you’re about 90 now) to know this: We never actually gave a shit about who put the bomp in the bomp-ba-bomp-bomp.
______

On his new album “The Greatest Songs of the ‘50s” Barry Manilow offers very respectable versions of It’s All in The Game, It’s Not For Me to Say, and other pop classics. But was there really a significantly underserved market that wanted a CD of Paul Anka and a big band performing Eye of the Tiger and Smells Like Teen Spirit? I didn’t think so.

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Radio station programmers take note: It was a funny tune when we were 17, but when radio stations play The Silhouettes golden oldie Get A Job it’s not so funny now. A lot of boomers are on the beach these days… and they are not there hangin’ with Frankie and Annette.


Coming: CULTURAL IDIOCY: Why America is Losing the War of Words
- a new book by Joe Marconi

PREVIOUSLY ON THE SEX, LIES, AND BABY BOOMERS blog:

Coming: CULTURAL IDIOCY: Why America is Losing the War of Words - a new book by Joe Marconi

Sex, Lies and Baby Boomers
A 40-Year Reality Check [Watching the world and popular culture with three (mostly open) eyes]
by Joe Marconi


Sex

Women insist that all men think about is sex – all the time. While this is generally true, it is not true of all men. Some men, in fact, also think about food and sports while thinking about sex. This is called “multi-tasking” and has been the case since the beginning of time. I offer “the sandwich” as evidence of this.

Also, it is said that men want sex every day until they die. Again, this is not universally true. For some men the desire for sex continues well after they are dead – as in the case of the legendary Count Dracula and popular country singer Glen Campbell.

That women are only “hot to trot” until they get married is another misconception. It is only the case with regard to their husbands. We know this from watching several episodes of “Everybody Loves Raymond” as well as from viewing the conversations at the beginning of the program between the five women on “The View.” Or are there six? Whatever.

Research indicates that young former brides, and even many elderly women, remember how to trot – often with a vengeance – when they see someone else’s husband, a fireman, a doctor who remembered to trim the hairs in his ears, and country singer Glen Campbell.

So, how does one keep passion’s fire alive? Usually, one doesn’t. If a fire is discovered in a room and the fire is put out, the mess gets cleaned up and life pretty much goes on. But once a building burns to the ground, it can’t be restored to the way it was. It’s better to try finding something useful in the rubble, like your old address book, move on, and start over somewhere else – ideally in a building where people are having a lot of sex. Until they get married.

Why do so many relationships take this all too familiar course? Good luck trying to figure it out. Psychologists, late-night radio talk show hosts, and screenwriters have been going over it for decades and the script never seems to change. And don’t even start thinking about the songs; there are too many to count.

It’s been said that couples fight about sex, money and children. Money, of course, comes and goes and children grow up and move out, but sex remains to be the continuing subject of joy, tension and pain forever, and sometimes longer.

But buck up! Look on the bright side. If the covers of the weekly tabloid magazines are correct, while life may bring heartbreak this week, there is apparently a good chance that before the world ends, everyone will likely get to “date” Madonna, Jessica Simpson, George Clooney, Justin Timberlake, or, perhaps that particular someone at Starbucks who keeps looking at your muffin. Hey, it could happen.




More Sex…

Sex videos? Kid Rock? Fred Durst? Collin Farrell? Britney Spears? Pamela Anderson? The amazingly talented and versatile Paris Hilton?

Celebrities used to be known for being “singers” or “actors” – dubious designations in some cases to be sure – but these days, if they are known at all, it is primarily for who they are screwing, suing, or pretending to be angry with for marketing videos of them having sex and putting them on the Internet. Or for spreading rumors about them having sex... Or writing on bathroom walls that they are… Wait! Does anyone really care? Fans of pop stars used to be excited if their favorites waved from a hotel window or a passing limo. Now, seeing the “stars” going down on each other is getting to be a ho-hum experience. I am prepared to concede that these people have all at some time in their lives engaged in sex and I don’t need to see a video of it to be convinced. Okay! That’s about $40 bucks saved right there!


Lies


Some days it is difficult not to feel sorry for Scott McClellen, the hapless White House press secretary. He was sent out to tell reporters that President Bush didn't know about the sale of control of as many as 23 US Ports to a Dubai government-owned corporation until Bush administration officials had already approved the deal.

This is the same Scott McClellen who had to announce to reporters that Mr. Bush didn't know Hurricane Katrina was going to be so destructive until he saw a tape of TV news coverage that showed the damage?

Some weeks later, when questioned about Vice President Cheney’s “shooting incident” (in which Mr. Cheney shot a 78 year-old man in the face), McClellen offered his trademark deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, as he declared the President was not aware of the incident until several days later.

But it’s not all McClellan walking the line between incredulity and incompetence, and not realizing that the line he is walking is on fire. An earlier entry here noted that U.S. funding for education was disappearing, thanks to the efforts of the current administration. Last month a college student asked President George W. Bush how he could say he was a supporter of education and eliminate or freeze funding sources for student loans. The president seemed confused by the question and indicated the young woman must be mistaken, as if she had somehow gotten his presidency confused with that of, say, Jams Buchanan. The Bush budget had, in fact, reduced funding for education-related programs by some 20 percent and apparently no one had told Mr. Bush what was in – or not in – his budget.

So here’s a thought: maybe President Bush can have Attorney General Gonzales and a team from the National Security Agency bug and monitor the phone calls and emails of his budget director, the Vice President, the U.S. Weather Bureau, and his agency that approves government contracts so that he won’t have to first learn what his administration is doing, and not doing, by watching Lou Dobbs on CNN.

AND THIS CLASSIC QUOTE: “I was provided with additional input that was radically different from the truth. I assisted in furthering that version.” – Lt. Col. Oliver North




Baby Boomers – A Reality Check

A wise person said that all we know, we have learned by studying the past. Another person said old eight-tracks would be worth a lot of money someday. Go figure.

Many baby boomers are totally fixated on the past, though not so much that we actually study it. What we experienced in the 1960s and ’70s is a part of the core of who we are, sort of. A few years ago when I was asked to write the liner notes for a music collection called Lost in the Sixties, a friend suggested, if I was involved, it should be titled “Stuck” in the Sixties. Maybe.

It’s like when very religious people – real ones, not the Robertson or Falwell type – try to explain their faith by saying that for those who believe, no explanation is necessary, and for those who don’t, no explanation will suffice. For boomers, certain events and periods in time seem unexplainable, even spiritual. Like the Birth of Rock ’n’ Roll or the Beatles’ first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. Or Sandra Dee.

Millions of people might nod as if to say they understand, but it is the older baby boomers, born around 1945 or '46, who nod the loudest and will most likely become very emotional, as well they should. Former President Clinton comes to mind here.

It is now late in the day for boomers. A new century in underway and we can tell how much, once again, the times they are a-changin.’ This is not simply nostalgia. Each day millions of seemingly normal people slip into a trance when the Theme from "A Summer Place" plays through many concealed miniature speakers in an elevator. Time stops. It is 1959. The mind flashes on a beach, as the unbelievably beautiful Sandra Dee decides the time has come for her to prove her love to Troy Donahue in Technicolor. She has reassessed her notion that they “must be good.” Sandra Dee… is ready to do it. Fortunately Max Steiner and the Warner Brothers Orchestra are at the beach that day to provide what was to become one of the most romantic instrumental interludes since Beethoven wrote that song – the really pretty one. Anyway, as the screen fades to black, raging hormones in movie theaters across the United States cause any un-popped kernels in the popcorn boxes to explode in a symphony. Baby boomers understood. Young love. Summer love. New popcorn. The world was different.

Sandra and Troy are gone now. In many respects they both led very boomer-like lives – successful careers with wealth, luxury, European holidays, marriages, divorces, dark periods, and finally hitting rock-bottom in their later days, living stories that, if they had been a band, deserve to be on VH-1’s “Behind the Music.”

The elevator stops and so does the song. But we know there are other summers, other loves, and other songs. And those moments in the car when we just can't stop – or don’t want to stop – singing “Louie, Louie” very loud.

We can still force a bit of the old crooked smile we practiced so long in the mirror, looking over our shoulders at the good, the bad and the slightly-out-of-tune, dimmed images of Elvis, Marilyn, topless bathing suits, back seats, love, sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll, cheeseburgers, James Dean, Frankie and Annette… though not in that order.

No one’s on the beach, but as long as there are elevators and daydreams, the song won’t end.

(to be continued…)
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Joe Marconi is a writer. He teaches at DePaul University and Columbia College in Chicago. He is also a consultant on marketing communications for several leading companies and organizations, and is the author of thirteen published books, available from online booksellers or fine book stores everwhere.