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Thursday, May 10, 2012

If You Wanted My Opinion...

I guess I veer to the modest side of many things. But doesn't anyone out there have any privacy any more?

Before the Warden and I married, the wisest man I know gave me a little piece of parting advice. He said, "I know you're getting married, and you'll want to share everything with your husband, but just remember, some things should just be kept private."

That has stayed with me for the past twenty years, and for twenty years, there have been things that have been kept very private. I have also been careful that there remains a level of courtesy between my husband and myself. For example, if I pass gas (yes, I do sometimes), I still say "excuse me."

There are some places where society is venturing to go that I'm TOTALLY not comfortable with.  It's becoming more and more pervasive. When I was a child, the Playboy magazines were kept behind the check out counters. They had to be asked for in order to purchase them.

It seems that Playboy is venturing into new arenas. Not really Playboy, but Playboy's little brothers and sisters. He has many--among these are Cosmopolitan, Elle, and Time....Yes, I said Time.

What the heck, people?!

A couple weeks ago, we went to the grocery store.  As I unloaded the things from my cart, I couldn't figure out why my daughter wasn't helping me.  I looked over, and she was turning magazines backward. At first I didn't get what she was doing until I saw flesh, flesh and more flesh flashing before my eyes.

I mean, is it really necessary to see every famous pregnant woman--"hands placed strategically" on the cover of every magazine out there? I don't care to see it! Does anyone really? I don't like to see my own naked pregnant body. I figure the only one I bare all for is the Warden. That's it folks. I just don't get it.

Today, did you see the new Time magazine? If you haven't....EWW!!!  I'm cringing to think what my five-year-old son's going to say about that one.  I'll paint a little picture for you....Beautiful, young, blonde mother standing there looking at the photographer. Little, cute three-year-old boy mouth attached to her breast as half of her black camisole is lifted to accommodate him.

I totally get the idea that nursing a baby is healthy and good, and I totally get that people want to give their children the benefits as long as they're comfortable. I know there's a big push about being able to nurse wherever whenever, and that's fine. My problem is the thoughtlessness about others around you. I don't mind if you want to nurse, but I don't want to watch. I mean, I wouldn't walk around with my breasts hanging out on any other day. I get that when a mother is nursing it serves a more utilitarian purpose, but when it comes right down to it, it's still a breast. It's not hard to get a blanket and cover up a bit.

I guess, more than anything, people, keep some things private.  I don't care, and I don't care to see all that you have. Keep something to yourself. Some things just aren't meant for my five-year-old's eyes.

 I will admit, I'm going a bit to the extreme to compare this cover of Time with Playboy, but I guess these both fit my definition of things my children shouldn't have to see.


LeAnn said...

I agree! Great post on big issue. I am really tired of it all. It's just another sign of the times

vaxhacker said...

Yeah, it's interesting to see the change in attitudes over just our lifetimes.

I've blogged on my feelings about personal modesty and situations where I would or wouldn't be comfortable around other people, so you know that already, but while I think there's an appropriate place and situation for most things, and ability to just be practical about things, what concerns me is the degree to which things that ought to be unremarkable facts of life (yes, that's what a body looks like, move along now) or kept to more private intimate moments and not a spectator event are sensationalized and held up for entertainment, so even the mundane stuff is over-sexualized and people get reduced to objects to be leered at or treated like playthings.

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