COLUMN: Skip the innuendo and get to the good stuff

Television failed me.

I guess that’s to be expected, but for some reason I didn’t see it coming. Sure I knew I was never going to become Jack Bauer – I’m too tough – but it came as a complete surprise that despite how overhyped and oversexed Hollywood is, they have led me astray.

You see, there are thousands of shows on TV these days, and they all teach a lesson of some sort, except for reality TV, which shows how stupid some people are to create, participate in and watch these enormous wastes of film. And out of these thousands of shows, the thread that weaves them all together is an unhealthy dose of innuendo and an obsession with sex. Their target: men.

Falling into that category, I was falling for the bait. I quickly learned there are three stages of male sexuality depicted on TV: the daydream stage, the primed, oiled and ready stage and the medicated stage.

Each stage has had its fair share of shows made. The daydream stage probably has the least amount and has relied on shows like “Boy Meets World,” “Step by Step” and “Power Rangers,” a massive innuendo in itself, though I don’t think about the same thing.

The daydream stage consists of early pubescent boys daydreaming about girls and getting kissed by them. The boys never really seem to know why they want the kiss so bad, but once it happens, fireworks go off and the boy and girl become the couple of the ages and live happily ever after.

Unfortunately for me, this was my education of boy/girl relationships in junior high. I knew if I wanted to have it made, all I had to do was kiss a girl. The hard part was no girl really seemed interested. Even when I had my first kiss, I was disappointed. I peeked out the corner of my eye during the kiss to see if fireworks were going off and people were gathering around to congratulate me on my improved manliness. All I really saw was I had completely missed her lips and was getting her chin wet. Somehow apologies don’t fix things in that situation.

In school they start to explain in extremely confusing terms how a kiss leads to sexually transmitted diseases, five kids, a mortgage payment and death. They never explain how this all works and refer you to your textbook, which is always a disappointment. Growing up in Utah, the chapter about sex in my health book was chapter 666 – to symbolize evil – and was the shortest chapter in the whole book. It simply said, “Go talk to your parents and please don’t sue us,” in small, italic font.

So I was left with no choice but to talk to my dad about this. After a confusing explanation of storks, rising out of a cabbage patch with an umbilical cord in their beak, dancing around in a special happy dance with bees, children are formed. I wasn’t about to buy that. Everyone knows when a bird and bee mate you get a bree, and they make nests of honey. Geez, I’m not stupid.

Thwarted in my quest to understand the mystery of women, I again turned to TV and realized I had graduated to the primed, oiled and ready stage of shows. These include all the teen dramas where these desperate men constantly try to make a move on girls who could care less. I could never really understand these shows and turned to the Discovery Channel instead. At least this station drops the incessant innuendos and gets down to business. There I learned that birds and bees really don’t make brees, but they mate with their own kind and make baby birds and baby bees. Come on, was that so hard to say? Why did everyone have to hide this from me?

But there was a downside to all this when on my wedding night my wife yelled at me to stop making awful screeching noises. She didn’t seem to understand as I explained I was just making the mating call of humpback whales. It worked on TV but seemed to kill the mood real fast in reality.

Now that I’ve been married awhile, I’ve gotten past all the innuendo and figured things out, no thanks to TV.

Even though I’m in the primed, oiled and ready stage, I have great fears for the future – the medicated stage. You might think I’m overreacting because I’m so young and have years ahead of me before needing medication, but nonetheless I still worry.

It seems like every other commercial on TV these days is about a new pill to solve erectile dysfunction. I’m so tired about hearing about old dudes and their ED. Eew, gross. These commercials should fall in the same category as tampon commercials and be banned to France, where they would probably appreciate it.

I love hearing the side effects of ED pills: headaches, abdominal bleeding, tumors in the brain, bleeding from the eyeballs and in some cases death. Oh, and if an erection lasts longer than four hours, call a doctor. No kidding. The most terrifying line in the whole commercial is the disclaimer to ask a doctor if you are healthy enough for sexual activity. Could you imagine how awkward that conversation would be?

You: “Umm, doc, I have a friend who has a problem and thinks he, uh, may need to get on some ED medication.”

Doctor: (responds cool and calmly) “Oh, you’re having problems?”

You: “Um, yeah.”

Doctor: “I’m sorry son, but you’re not healthy enough for sexual activity.”

You: “No!! Do you guys still do euthanized killings?”

Besides the never-ending ED commercials, my e-mail inbox is inundated with discount offers for Viagra. Who do these people think I am? I also worry when my wife gets the same e-mails that they’re on to me and know something about me that I don’t.

At any rate, television has been absolutely no help to my sex life. Oh, and Discovery Channel documentaries were meant for animals only – your partner will not appreciate you beating on your chest and screaming like a gorilla. Trust me.

Seth Hawkins is a senior majoring in public relations who remains as confused today as he ever has. Comments and questions can be sent to him at seth.h@aggiemail.usu.edu.