With today’s easy access to the Internet, kids can quickly become OVER SATURATED with porn at an early enough age that they just don’t appreciate the female body in the same manner as those us who harken from a pre-Internet era.
Thanks to wifi and mobile data we now swimming in bits of data like a digital ether of porn, just waiting to be picked up by your device of choice. Sometimes you don’t even have to do anything. You could be walking down the street to help rebuild your local orphanage when suddenly someone accidentally texts you a picture of their penis in full on BEAST MODE!
When I was a kid we didn’t have the Internet, or even easy access to magazines with scantily clad ladies. It was a barren wasteland, and we scrounged up any and every little scrap of half naked flesh we could find.
We considered ourselves lucky to get our filthy pre-pubescent hands on a Sears catalog. But even as kids we knew this was a last resort. The Sears catalog had this magical power to turn the girl next door into a woman with the sex appeal of an old cat lady. They were the lowest of the low. The plainest of the plain. They were the drink of water a dying man in the desert would pass up on because he knew a better glass of water was just around the corner.
It was the lingerie catalog that reminded us of mom.
The next level was the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue. These were always harder to come by, but not completely impossible. They would usually show up one fine Spring morning at school and would draw a crowd of boys who were both eager and curious to check out these half naked ladies who looked nothing like our mothers or teachers. We didn’t even fully understand why we were drawn to these women, but we knew we had to have them.
But there was NO way you were getting your hands on one of these things unless you knew some kid with the Swimsuit Issue. And it would always be the one kid who we hated! Why? Because that’s life! We would pretend to like this kid for a few moments in hopes that he would take pity on us and let us look at these women. He knew he held all the cards, and he would savor the moment. Basking in the glory of being the COOL kid for a brief moment in time. Much like Prince Adam raising the Sword of Grayskull, this kid knew he had the power.
We would eventually get a look, and with it we’d get our first real hit of the female body. It was intoxicating. It was beautiful. And it confused the absolute living hell out of us. Each picture gave us something different to appreciate. A half exposed butt cheek, a tiny nipple bump, an extra dose of cleavage, or a smile that could convince you to kill your best friend. And we wanted more, more, MORE!
And then there was the big one. The one treasure greater than a brand new Nintendo Entertainment System: Playboy Magazines. A magazine devoted to naked women. Real live naked women! Could our minds handle such a thing? Probably not, but we were ready to do ANYTHING for a peek.
Teasing us from the top, hard to reach shelf these magazines drove us to perform acts of absolute desperation.
Lies became second nature as we adapted to a life of subterfuge against our own mothers who might have been suspicious of our unholy needs.
Our finely tuned suburban ninja skills were pushed to the absolute limits as we sneaked across our friend’s house, through creaking floors, trying to reach their dad’s study while no one was looking.
And entire afternoon adventures were planned around the hopes of chasing a rumor of a supposed stash of Playboy magazines left in the house of a recently deceased local pastor, who lived about five miles away on the other side of town. Five miles!? To a kid that’s the other side of the world! But the boobs compelled us, and we’d hop on our bikes, Goonies-style, and peddle away towards this supposed treasure.
These things had us by the balls. They drew us like the Eye of Sauron. And through blood, sweat, and tears, we would all strive for that goal of seeing naked flesh on paper. It was our purpose in life. It was our Arc of the Covenant.
We worked hard for it. We earned it. And when we FINALLY had that Playboy in our trembling hands we knew have accomplished something glorious.
We were finally looking at a naked woman. And it was worth it.