Book It

Book It

Missouri Attorney General Jay Ashcroft, a Republican, is proposing banning books that he fears might, according to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, “appeal to the sexual interests of minors.” The commies from the ACLU are fighting him.

Were I a Republican, I’d ban everything from “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” to “Hawaii.” “Hawaii?” you ask. There is a chapter in there that is one of the dirtiest, sexiest scenes of all time. It was a go-to book when I was a kid. My bedroom was in the basement, and the view from my low window was the first-floor bedroom window of our teenage neighbor Libby, who walked around her room in a pointy bra that looked a weapon and a half slip. Between watching Libby and reading that one scene from “Hawaii,” I was mad with desire.

Hell, if you were a literate teenage boy, you could get off on Ayn Rand’s masterbatory prose much less “Chatterley.” Boys could get off with mere words: “Bra,” “slip,” “panties,” “breasts,” “cooking oil,” “avocado,” “mashed potatoes,” the name “Marilyn,” all the “Psalms,” “Song of Solomon.”

(My friend Bill Walther got married, and he had a pal read the “Song of Solomon” 4, 5-6: “Your two breasts are like two fawns, Twins of a gazelle, Which feed among the lilies. Until the day breaks And the shadows flee away, I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh And to the hill of frankincense.” The pal started laughing. I mean, he almost passed out laughing, which got the audience laughing and the band (me, Scotty Pearl, Steve Hagerman, Joe Precourt) laughing, and the wedding almost came to a halt.

I can’t speak for girls. I suspected they were reading books like “Florrie Makes A Cozy” and “Suzy Goes to the Store Alone for Lipstick.” Clean girl stuff, except that a boy could get excited by “cozy” and/or “Suzy,” and/or “Cozy Suzy,” and/or “Cozy Suzy goes,” and/or “Suzy and Florrie Make Lipstick and Go (third base!).” And “Nancy Drew”: oh momma!

Perhaps Republicans were never children. Little Mike Pence, before “Mother” probably walked around in a suit, ramrod stiff (“ram!” “rod!”) looking neither right nor left (probably more right) to get milk (“milk!”) for his uh, ma, and crossing in the crosswalk (crosswalk!”)

Other words that made me wild: “Tree,” “flower” “Mr. Peepers,” “Howdy Doody,” “sweat pants,” “origami,” “candy (the treat and the book),” “oil change,” “periodontal,” “mountain of myrrh,” “ass (behind the refrigerator door Lucy broke some glass, first she cut her finger then she cut her ask me no more questions, and I’ll tell you no more lies)”.

Governor Ashcroft, before you make an ass (an ashcroft!) of yourself, consider that words are seductive, books are healthy releases (“releases!”), and James Michener and whoever wrote “Song of Solomon” were better porn purveyors that was Hugh Hefner.

 

About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: eugenebaldwin.com. I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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