I'm Not a Prude

I'm really not a prude.

I'm not a saint and I can tell some pretty adult jokes and stories with the best of them—when the time and place is right, of course. I'm not bragging and actually a little ashamed of myself at times.

But pholks, I'm tired of being insulted day and night with television ads dealing with subjects which I don't want to get into.

If I had sexual equipment or performance problems I wouldn't discuss it nor would I care about anyone else's. I feel sorry for those who do. If a close friend wants to vent his concerns or hear a word of two of encouragement or ask my opinion, I'd always be ready to help however I could.

I'm not a prude or a stick-in-the-mud.

But why can't we have a few hours a day without the bombardment of personal hygiene issues-male and female-sexual dysfunction, and panty-hose linens. If a woman wants to buy her things with wings or no-wings, that's up to her.

And that guy Bob who becomes the neighborhood hero because he has enhanced his manhood with one of those popular pills is still a nerd in my book. Don't get me wrong pholks, I know how important the male ego is—both to men and women but mom nature knew what she was doing when handing out equipment.

In my generation, it took a lot of nerve for a young man to finally walk up to the counter and ask for condoms. I had a friend (you know what I mean) who missed at least a couple of “sincere encounters” due to his shyness, especially if the clerk was female. Times certainly have changed and “those things” no longer are behind the counter and you don't have to ask for a sales person's assistance.

Don't get me wrong, pholks, I'm not a prude.

Hygiene has always been important to me but it's a private matter. It's personal.

I understand marketing and it helps support me. But I still have problems with some of the products I see on the tube every single day.

Mr. Whipple and his admonition about squeezing the Charmin was cute and effective and I didn't mind some of the diaper ads touting the absorbency. But this thing with bears bugs the “stuffing” out of me—so to speak.

We all know what a bear does in the woods. And, unless we are really dumb, we know that bears don't use toilet paper. They have no money, anyway. And pholks if I were to encounter a bear in the woods, or anywhere else, I, not the bear, would need the product or a furry rabbit or squirrel.

Really, I'm not a prude and actually enjoy humor. But hitting me between the eyes with constant “up close and personal” marketing is just too much.

The one which really pisses me off is the current “Flomax'' stream of ads which run freely day and night. Getting up in the middle of the night (we usually leave the bedroom TV on all night) and seeing the group of middle-aged men enjoying themselves without a care about having to go all the time and being proud of producing a good stream when they do is not the best way to relax and go back to sleep. I don't have a problem along those lines but why the constant reminders.

I'm not a prude. Far from it.

Subject matter of those ads is rough enough but adding those disgusting disclaimers about potential side affects could make a guy wet his pants—even if he didn't have a health problem “down there.”

Well pholks I could go on and on but I gotta go.

Miles can be reached at mshuper@valleyvoicenewspaper.com