My parents were not prudes, but one of the most mortifying moments of my life came in the form of watching the movie Rush with them. Don't get me wrong -- it's a great movie. What's not to love about a movie where the badass Greg Allman plays a drug dealer in his evil scary way, hair down to his shoulders, mean as my Grandpa Charlie coming off a three day bender? Well, there was one particuarly inventive graphic sex scene between the main characters that seemed to last forever and my mother kept saying, What's he doing to her, Michelle? Despite having skin the color of cocaine, I seldom blush and those who have seen it have seen something akin to Haley's comet in frequency. But I blushed then and wished like hell they'd go back to a graphic drug scene or someone getting beaten to move us along. The other time that things really went to pot in this way was when they had accidentally rented Blue Velvet instead of Blue Violets, a sweet romantic comedy involving sailing. So important to read the box, yes?
My parents never discussed sex with me, thank the Lord, and my "sex talk" consisted of some vague ramblings about matters of reputation and once when I was going to the mall in Ft. Worth with a friend asking if I "had anything with me." Like what? My mother blushed at this point, said something about protection starting with a "c" and I realized she thought we might be having sex. My friend was gay, albeit closeted if dying a yellow streak in your jet black hair and listening to nothing but Berlin and Depeche Mode could be considered closeted, and even I knew that sex was as likely as a hot air balloon ride that afternoon. We were going to the mall where he'd buy my birthday present, a copy of Stephen King's Eyes Of A Dragon, with a brilliant cover the color of a green midori cocktail. I had to laugh at my mother's assumption about the afternoon. There would be other outings with other people that were a lot more Blue Velvet than Blue Violets, but for that afternoon, the scariest choice I had to make was what to order at the Catfish King. There were a lot of choices on the menu, but they all were made of the same thing, a food that could be served up more ways than I'd ever imagined.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Sex is hardly ever just about sex." Shirley MacLaine
Drinking movie suggestion: Chloe In The Afternoon
Benedictions and Maledictions