Daily Show’s “Dirty Bird Special” poops on senior sex
About three years ago, I was contacted by a producer of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart about appearing on a segment about the rise in STDs among sexually active seniors. The segment didn’t get produced at that time because they wanted to include sexually active elders, preferably unattractive and smarmy who didn’t use condoms, who were willing to let a camera and interviewer follow them on their how-to-pick-up-a-sex-partner-escapades.
I knew TDS would ridicule these elders and the whole notion of older-age dating and sex, but I wanted to be a part of the show because I thought I could bring some dignity to the topic.
After months of trying to locate their wild elders (who were likely smarter than I was and wouldn’t agree to be ridiculed by The Daily Show), the producer gave up on the segment — or so I thought.
I went on to be interviewed on the topic of unsafe senior sex by ABC Nightline, which did a fabulous, educational, and respectful segment and included a long interview with me, featuring comments from readers on this blog, in fact.
You know what happened last night if you were watching Comedy Central. On April 9, 2009, The Daily Show aired “Dirty Bird Special” about unsafe senior sex and dating, which featured an 82-year-old horndog (“lookin’ for it wherever I can get it”) who doesn’t believe his genital warts are contagious (“warts are my penis”) and hasn’t used a condom in 40 years, although he’s getting more “tail” now than in his youth.
Although part of the segment showed vivacious Miami elders dancing, dating, and having fun, the interviewer — who admitted that thinking of seniors having sex produced “gagging sensations” — was intent on making even social dancing and dating seem seedy, ridiculous, and icky. And I hate to tell you what they did with the segment about safer-sex education at a Jewish community center. You’ll have to view it yourself .
I thank Sue Katz for drawing my attention to this show with her superb blog post about it.
Straight Woman Loves Gay Romance
I was surprised and delighted to find Best Gay Romance 2009, ed. Richard Labonté, Cleis Press , an absolute pleasure to read, and more stimulating to me – a straight woman – than most heterosexual erotica.
Partly it’s the romance aspect – the stories and characters are gentle, sweet, and very sexy – and because the whole book is men, men, men. Each story has at least two sexy, loving men who get aroused and naked together, which for me was delicious, fantasy voyeurism. Each story even offers an interesting plot — not just a rush to the genitals — and non-stereotypical characters. Several are even our age, though most are young. The stories are tender and erotic without being the least bit raw, rough, or sleazy. I lapped it up (so to speak).
As my readers know, I lost my beloved husband last summer. I’ve been sexually hibernating since then (while continuing to think and write about sex, as you know). Believe it or not, Best Gay Romance got my sparks sparking again, at least within the cocoon of fantasy.
I wrote to Richard Labonté, editor of the series, about this, and he wrote back:
I’m so happy to hear that the collection helped get your “juices flowing.” I’m not surprised, though – in my A Different Light days (I helped open this still-extant gay bookstore in Los Angeles in 1979), I sold a lot of gay male romances, especially early Alyson titles (way before the Best Gay Romance days) to straight women. I particularly recall a group of six or so women, age range early 30s to late 40s I’m guessing, who would come into the original ADL store in Los Angeles in the ’80s every two months or so and buy everything new since their last visit, often four or five books each, not always the same titles (I’m sure they also shared). Like you, they appreciated the erotic (but not too erotic) male content.
Read more of my sex and/or aging book reviews and author interviews here.
Valentine’s Day without Robert
My first Valentine’s Day since Robert died seemed to be going unexp
ectedly well — a deep and stimulating phone conversation with a close friend, time alone reading and dancing in my exercise room, dinner out with a dear and delightful woman pal, excitement about feeling my life force emerging strongly.
Then I came home. Alone. Lit a candle. And started to cry.
I remembered Robert lighting a candle in the same candleholder I was using. I saw his dear hand lighting it, the hand that would touch me soon. I heard his soft voice, saw his smile. I wrote in my journal memories of seven years of Valentine’s Days, especially the languid afternoons making love as daylight turned to evening and to night. Finally, even the candle would burn down, flicker, and go out as we held each other and continued to kiss in the dark.
Tears streaming, voice wailing, I put down my journal and picked up a book of poetry, American Primitive by Mary Oliver. A friend, Uta, had given it to me on Robert’s birthday, 4-1/2 months after he died, with this inscription:
Dear Joanie,
She is one of Robert’s favorite contemporary poets.
You are very special to me and when you read in this little book, Robert will be with you. He loves you very much.
I had to put down the book when I read this:
…Now you are dead too, and I, no longer young,
know what a kiss is worth.
(photos by Robert’s son Mitch Rice)
Six Months after Robert’s Death
I’ve written about losing Robert to multiple myeloma last August and taken you with me on many of my steps forward. I return today, six months after Robert’s death, to check in with you again. You have been marvelous, posting comments here and emailing me privately with your warm messages and your stories.
If you’re a new blog reader, I’ll update you briefly. Yes, this blog is — almost all of the time — about sex and aging. The reason I wrote Better Than I Ever Expected: Straight Talk about Sex After Sixty and started this blog was because I found great love in later life — I was 57 and Robert was 64 when we met. My work changed from writing about health & fitness to writing and speaking about sex after 60. I decided to face full-on and speak out loud against our society’s stereotype of older-age sex/love/dating as unseemly and icky.
Robert and I had seven years together from first kiss to last and I still feel him with me, especially when I teach my line dance class, where we met and where we continued to dance.
I’m dedicating whatever it takes to the process of grieving and moving through grief. Here are some of the tools and helpers I’ve found since I last wrote Discoveries Helping Me Move Through Grief three months ago. In case this helps you or lets you help someone else, I share them with you:
I’ve learned plenty from the counselors from both Hospice (Rick Hobbs) and Kaiser (Connie Kellogg) and although sometimes I entered their quiet rooms thinking I’d never stop crying, they accepted me with compassion and skillfully taught me ways to cope.
I took an amazing full-day workshop from Joe Hanson, author of Soaring Into Acceptance (available from the author). Among many gifts of that day, I was able to change my one-sentence “story” from “I lost the love of my life, and my life is and will be empty without him,” to “I found the love of my life and learned how to experience love fully, and I take this with me on my path.” (Joe will be repeating this valuable workshop, “The Power of Acceptance,” on Saturday, Feb. 28, 2009, in Larkspur, CA, near San Francisco. I heartily recommend it.)
I’m in a Hospice spousal bereavement group. The best part is getting to know other people who experienced the same kind of loss at roughly the same time. Because of the confidentiality of the group, I can’t disclose much about it, except that it’s helping me move forward. I recommend taking advantage of everything Hospice has to offer.
I’ve continued to reach out to loved ones and to new friends and welcome them into my heart. Being close to people who understand me balances my need for a lot of solitude. Extending help to others who need it balances the help I need to accept from others.
Each month gets a little easier.
Yes, I’ll write that next book. Writing still brings me joy, and I’m no less committed to the mission I’ve established here. For now, I’ll continue to indulge in short spurts of writing and when I’m ready, I’ll take on the book I’ve been planning for more than a year.
Thank you for your compassion and confidences. Keep those comments and emails coming, even if I’m not as quick to answer as you came to expect.
Warmly,
Joan