Out of It: The Proposal, Hook-Ups, Dating Apps,Virginity and Sexual Mores

The Stolen Kiss, late 1780s, Jean Honoré Fragonard; The Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Collection of the King of Poland, Stanislaw-August Poniatowski, 1895

by Rose Madeline Mula

I admit it.  I like the Olive Garden.  I know that’s not cool. I also know that “cool” is no longer in; but, then, neither am I.  In fact, I’m so out of it, I still have an AOL email address, which apparently is pitifully “yesterday.” I have no idea why. I find it more reliable and user-friendly than two other au courant email addresses I use from time to time.

Those are just a couple of examples of how out of touch I am with contemporary thinking. Here are more:

If you offered me a million dollars to name a current pop star or song, your money would be safe.  I don’t have a clue.

Also, I am appalled by TV shows like The Bachelor and The Bachelorette that encourage their contestants to forego their individual rooms to spend a night together in a “fantasy suite” after just a few dates.  Even worse is Love Connection where a couple is sent on a “romantic” overnight assignation after only one blind date.  I thought it couldn’t get any sleazier than that, but this season a new show, The Proposal, has debuted featuring an even more outrageous scenario.  Within an hour, a slate of ten contestants is quickly winnowed down to one, who then becomes engaged to a mystery man or woman, who has been hidden behind a pod until the end.  Before the climactic engagement, the couple has spent a total of less than five minutes or so talking to each other.  What’s next?  A program where a marriage of strangers will be consummated, on camera, before the first commercial break?

And I really don’t understand apps like Tinder that enable guys and gals to dial up an immediate “hook-up” with an unknown partner as easily as ordering delivery of a pizza.  In fact, people give more thought to their choice of pizza toppings than to these casual encounters where there is no attraction, no commitment, no common interests, except one — indulging in spur-of-the-moment sex with a complete stranger, and no desire to ever see that stranger again,  Don’t these people worry about STDs or the fact that their partner for the next hour or less could possibly be an ax murderer — or maybe married to one who might not be happy with his/her spouse’s hobby?

I’m so out of it, I remember when still being a virgin at the ripe old age of, say, 21 wasn’t considered shameful, but the word “virgin” was.  It was never spoken in mixed company, and it was assumed all brides were “pure” when they walked down the aisle. To be honest, I’m still a bit shocked to read about weddings in which the couple’s children are participants.  When I was in middle school, we all had autograph books in which we collected signatures and pithy sayings.  A popular verse was, “First comes love; then comes marriage; then comes Susie” (or whoever) “with a baby carriage.” Marriage before a baby? What a quaint concept! Instead, today we see dozens of single women proudly displaying their baby bumps in the pages of People every week.  As for those bumps, apparently the more prominent the better these days.  To that end, dresses/skirts/pants must be stretched as tightly as seems possible over the protruding belly — and then pulled tighter still.  I feel sorry for the poor baby who must feel Spanx-bound.  Weren’t the former loose maternity togs more comfortable for both mother and child?

And how about wedding ceremonies that unite two people of the same sex? Actually, I know a wonderful gay couple, so this is one innovation I support. Don’t tell my priest! Although he probably doesn’t care.  He may be too busy defending himself against charges we never believed were possible back in the day.

Wait! How did I ever go from the Olive Garden to a discussion of sexual mores?  Oh, I remember.  While I was enjoying my Fettucine Alfredo there last night, a couple in the next booth were engaging in an XXX-rated PDA, oblivious to everything else — including their own entrees.

They didn’t know what they were missing.  The fettuccine was delicious.

©2018 Rose Madeline Mula for SeniorWomen.com