Monkey Business

Ah, the sound of silence... well, sort of. More like the sound of the dishwasher running and only one baby crying (crying himself to sleep, hopefully). So I shall now attempt the nearly impossible and write about something that doesn't have anything to do with spit-up. Um, scratch that. I just picked up the cute little screecher and he puked all over my arm.

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5 days later:

As I was saying, I shall now attempt to write something coherent. Hopefully it will help lessen the brain atrophy I've been dealing with for the last two months.

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Two weeks later (man, it's hard to blog nowadays):

Ahem, where was I? Something about babies and puke, which was not where I intended to be. Anyway...

I have had this advice column in my things-to-write-about queue for months now. Sometimes I read it and then read it again, just to make sure I'm not misunderstanding. Because, seriously, this is the worst advice ever. EVER.

If you are too lazy to click on the above link, I will summarize for you: Thirty-something male has a little pest-control problem: he would like to be rid of a "monkey" on his back (also known as his virginity); Since his pesty problem is not the result of any moral or religious objection to de-monkeying, he is seeking advice on how to deal with his situation.

The advice he receives from columnist, Cheryl Lavin? Get a prostitute.

No, really. That's what she says. Or, she concedes, if he is a bit too squeamish to employ the services of a hooker, perhaps he could hop on one of those websites where people gather to find partners for meaningless, no-strings attached, sex.

Lovely.

Initially I was so bothered by Ms. Lavin's response that I couldn't do anything but shake my head. I just couldn't believe that a guy would write to an advice columnist for helpful hints on how to lose his virginity, let alone that she would respond, "Find yourself a whore."

Just how is this supposed to help him on his road to having a fulfilling relationship (or, according to him, making a "connection")? Does Ms. Lavin imagine that someday he will say to his soulmate, "You know, honey, I just never understood healthy relationships until I went to that hooker in Reno."

But then, I've realized the question/answer isn't the problem here (though they are both fraught with problems). The problem is that normal dating relationships nowadays are one step away from being prostitution themselves. Think about it. The only difference between this and hooking up with a stranger in a bar after one evening of drinks is that there is no exchange of cash for services rendered. If that sort of arrangement is socially acceptable, why not take the leap to paying a "professional" for those services? After all, if sex is thought to be meaningless except for the pleasure it provides, and no exchange of names is required before exchanging bodily fluids, why not? Ms. Lavin's advice seems almost logical.

So I guess I can't blame her for her response. If sex is all about self and has no meaning other than bit of pleasure, who cares where that pleasure comes from?

It's terribly sad that sex (and its proper place in marriage) has been so degraded that it is thought to be nothing more than a monkey on one's back to be given away, at first opportunity, to anyone who will take it. How tragic that, even in regular dating relationships, it has become nothing more than a commodity to be traded and bargained for instead of being reverenced and respected as the powerful force that it is.

When you think of the price that society will pay for this sort of thinking in emotional, physical and spiritual problems, a twenty-dollar hooker is no bargain. Not even for desperate men and pathetic advice columnists who are looking for meaning in all the wrong places.