You younger readers may want to sit down for this next part: Once upon a time, the only thing you needed for great sex was a can-do attitude and a filthy mind. All the other stuff that goes along for the ride — raw oysters, lingerie, a firm mattress, bourbon — is just frippery. Fun frippery, sure, but not necessary. How this universal human experience of joy came to be seen as wanting, I have no idea. Maybe someone thought plain old sex was too ’70s, too granola, too hairy-legged or something. When I learned young people were piercing their tongues for the express purpose of “improving” oral sex, I could only shake my head and recall the old joke, about what a man says after the worst bj of his life. (“That was great.”) I tell you this so you can know where I’m coming from when I tell you what I found in my Sunday newspaper ad insert, among the grocery ads. Yes, it’s a marquee position for KY’s latest concoction, a “couples lubricant” called Yours & Mine.
(And yes, let me pause for a moment to imagine the many geezers I toiled under in the newspaper business — the same ones who fretted over every too-high hemline in a fashion story and too-suggestive title in the movie listings — peeing their pants over this. Alas, they are no longer in a position to turn down advertising, even pre-print, and needless to say, if “Sexual Perversity in Chicago” were being made into a movie today, no one would have to change its title to “About Last Night” for fear of not being able to advertise it. It might help if they cast someone other than Demi Moore and Rob Lowe, however.)
At this point, I’d like to add a little musical accompaniment:
Now that I’m a geezer myself, of course I wondered why “he” needs a lubricant at all, unless Yours & Mine is just an elaborate cover for a gay thing, in which case I don’t think they’d be advertising with salad dressing and barbecue sauce.
But as you can see, the hook isn’t just that there are two flavors here. Hers is “thrilling,” his is “exciting,” and then there’s a strong hint that together, they’re greater than the sum of their parts — “one amazing reaction.” Are they referring to plain old friction, or is this like one of those tricks Brian Cranston pulls in “Breaking Bad”?
The ad is coy, the website, even more so. (Warning: Extreme Flash-heavy.) My guess is, there’s some sort of chemical reaction when they get together. What sort, I don’t know, but I can speculate. Perhaps the baking soda/vinegar kind, or maybe the Mentos/Diet Coke variety. I hope it’s not aluminum foil and toilet cleaner, as that would be very unsexy. But you never know. I think drilling a hole in your tongue isn’t exactly the height of erotica, and you’ve seen what I know.
Someone with a deeper background in advertising might like to weigh in and tell us about how difficult it is to sell sex products in traditional media. The old-line MSM may be dying, but they still wrangle millions of eyeballs on a daily basis, and successfully placing an ad like this — one that frankly sells the sex, not “feminine comfort” or some other euphemism — is no small accomplishment. Even if the pitch has to be made to, er, married couples. On the website, two mini-ads feature “Mr. and Mrs.” couples, and the tagline is “Couples that play together…stay together.”
In other words: Do it for the children!
Speaking of marital relations, Jenna Bush’s wedding went off without a hitch (that we know of), and the pictures (that we saw) were lovely. An old pro of the wedding racket told me once all brides either gain or lose weight going into the big day, and it seems Jenna was a loser — she really looks sensational in her dress. The party-girl beer fat is gone now that she’s grown up a bit. She’s taking hubs’ name, settling down in Baltimore and we won’t hear from her again until the baby or rehab. It’s NotJenna I’m a little worried about now:
I see her sister picked out a meh dress and made her put flowers in her hair — entirely within her rights as the bride — but there’s something about that smile that looks a little …off. And why is she doing that thing with her shoulder?
Recent rotator-cuff surgery? Mainlining “America’s Next Top Model” reruns? Or just whatever mom takes every morning to get through her days?
Not much bloggage today, but there’s this: Yet another first-the-earth-cooled explanation of the credit crisis, in simple enough language that a toddler could understand, via This American Life. It’s my firm belief that if Barack Obama started talking about Wall Street in language like this, John McCain would surrender by June 1 and, if we were really lucky, we might be able to rush Washington with pitchforks and torches. In the meantime, listen and simmer.