Much has been made of a recent New York Times article reporting that now a majority (51%) of women live alone.
According to the Times, women are now living with their cats and lovin’ it!
But the Times has a way of putting a positive spin on such things as divorce, abortion, drug use, depression, and loneliness.
If you want to know, I think there is a conspiracy between the New York Times, Hugh Hefner, and all the sexual revolutionists of the 1970s.
I think the tripartite cabal is hoping that more women will look at these statistics and just give up on the idea of marriage. In other words, it will become abnormal to be married. Just look at the “experts” quoted in the article, such as William H. Frey from the Brookings Institution who described the shift as “’a clear tipping point, reflecting the culmination of post-1960 trends. . . .”
That of course was Hugh Hefner’s goal all along since the 1950s. A recent experience of mine confirms this theory.
Hefner, the New York Times editors, and the guys still doing the hustle on the dance floor want women to be happy about living in a sort of collective and ready harem. When the disco kings of the 1970s see footage of an 80-year-old in a silk jacket on the dance floor moving like Herman Munster they see their idol. And as his little harem becomes accepted by the mainstream (recommending Christmas gifts for girlfriends via links on Yahoo and Fox), they hope that they too will have at least three girlfriends whose collective age does not equal theirs.
Playboy Bunnies have come a long way, baby! from their places beneath Popular Mechanics next to the bean bag chair. They are, as their reality show has categorized them, “The Girls Next Door.”
My cat, Sparky, and I would gape slack-jawed at the goings-on at the Playboy Mansion where girls my son’s age in hot pants (see, the appeal to the 70s?), would go down slides, squealing. Daddy Hugh would be in the wings in his satin robe, presumably ready to un-sash for a little frolic in a waterbed, where as Marvell wrote, they would “sport” and roll in delight, with their “sweetness up into one ball.”
The quartet even made the rounds of talk shows where they chatted about their “lifestyle.” The youngest one, a self-described “tomboy” who joined at 18, even had an apparent speech impediment. I can only guess that her handicap (so nice of the man to take in disadvantaged youngsters) is a form of stuttering, wherein she cannot complete a sentence without saying “like” several times.
I asked Sparky his opinion, if he thought these girls had something I—at only 31 years Hefner’s junior, and without blonde hair--didn’t, but then he reminded me that he had been fixed.
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