Norma Jean: Let's Do the Twist!

Hey, what ever happened to love and romance? Didn't sex and love once go together like hand and glove? Or is it now collar and leash, or dildo and astro glide? What the hell is going on? Every day I receive more and more alternative lifestyle personals, and fewer and fewer ads from those singles who still believe in "love sweet love". Then again, I get plenty of people who run ads in both sections...just in case. Sexual mores may be changing these days, but let's be realistic. Moms can't be leading men around the kitchen on a chain. Seeing dad on a leash could be quite disconcerting to a child and absolutely repugnant to a teenager. Once upon a time, when my parents went out, I knew they were at an Elks Club dance, or a wedding, or perhaps playing cards with the neighbors. Nowadays, many couples slip out for something a little X-tra, some super-discreet private party where everyone there "cums" to watch each other get hot, and do "the nasty" with their accountant, or to watch the teacher at the day care center engage in something wild. It's queer, this new form of American recreation. How suburban America's Tupperware turned into an obsession with sex toys is some weird metamorphosis only Newt might be able to explain. These adult sex parties are as big a craze as that wild new sexy dance the "twist" was in the '60s. My mom used to get all ßushed and sexed up just swinging her hips around the kitchen to Chubby Checker.I went to Tucson last week and in the hotel I was staying at, a full-on, latex & leather fetish party burst upon the scene about 10 p.m. on a Thursday night. The place was packed. Personally, I was delighted with the visuals and the exposed body parts, the dildo-belts and tattooed bodies. It did get me wondering, though, about fetishes taking precedent over holding hands on the beach. I felt nostalgic for the days of wine, roses and romance. The irony of all this is that the same people who are busily prodding away at each other with sex toys say they want to fall in love, marry, have children and go on picnics together. It must be some sort of schizophrenia that I myself experience of late. I want to go all the way to the outer limits sexually, and I want to sit on a couch and cry over a sad movie with my boyfriend as my child sleeps across our laps.What do you think of all this exhibitionism? Sodom and Gomorrah, or just more expansion of consciousness and reshufßing of social order? I really can't say, but I do admit doing a little shopping for wigs and nastier underclothes lately. I also admit saying little prayers at night, prayers that I meet someone I can open my heart to and experience the healing of a really solid relationship that has more going for it than explosive orgasms. Hey, if Warren Beatty can do it, there is hope for the hopeless, a vaccine for sex addiction; all it involves is meeting the right person at the destined time. So c'mon, you romantics -- let's help fate along a bit. A simple ad advertising your intention to find love is sometimes all it takes to remind the universe that you still live alone with your dog and cat and not quite ready to put on a leather corset and head for the "Dark Love Party".Love,Norma Jean


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