Last month I wrote what I thought was an amusing little column about my dad's sex life ["Daddy Dearest," Jan. 17]. From a daughter's perspective, I answered two letters from senior citizens who were having dating difficulties. Well, let me tell you, not since I wrote a column that might have been construed as mocking the swingers movement a little have I got so many chastising letters.
Dategirl . . . you suck . . .
You are worried that aging baby boomers are entering your little narrow tight assed world? You should be honored that we even take the time to read your little meaningless column. We, not you, are members of the greatest most powerful generation that has ever graced this planet. In the '60s we changed society dramatically and in record fashion. We saw and combated real racism, our generation fought and died in mass in an unnecessary war, others were brave enough to openly protest it. What has your generation come up with? Political correctness, over indulgent spoiled yuppies, and I am damned well never going to forgive you for Disco and Grunge.
Alas poor little Dategirl, who peppers her little columns with profanities and risqu頴alk in her endeavor to solidify her image in the liberal community, you are slipping. I don't know which is more narrow, your overly tight little ass, or your brain.
Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to write—even though you're obviously a little peeved, I am beyond honored that the man who gave us classics like "Benny and the Jets" and "Philadelphia Freedom" took a few minutes to drop me a note. But I fear that we have a misunderstanding. I am grateful to your generation for many things, including the Diggers and the Pill. I could've done without Birkenstocks and the Grateful Dead, but that's not the point. I am fine with old people having sex! I encourage senior citizens to have sex! I just didn't want to hear about my dad's sex life! Is that so weird? I think not.
In closing, I would like to personally apologize for inflicting yuppies, disco, and grunge on you. I am ashamed of myself and will not be doing anything like that again, you can be sure.
Here's another fellow's take on that same column:
I am disturbed about your ignorance of old men's sexuality. Don't be so cocky chastising old folks' libido. I bet one of those would thrust and sink his in and show you right. He would give it to you hard and dirty. Would screw the bone out of you until you beg him for a rest.
How long can you last anyway? Can you handle a man for more than two hours? Some men can last two hours with no problem you know. My grandpa was one of those. In his old age (70+), he told me he could still grind and move around his loin for two hours. I, for one—at 45—get into it. I like to have mine for a little over two hours. The few women I have been with cannot handle me. They run out of gas and beg for a breather. They get too tired screwing for more than two hours. I admit I have only been with three women in my life. Some women can handle a two-hour bout, I am sure. I just don't have one.
Try Older Lovers
Thank you for a most disturbing letter. "Screw the bone out of" me? I thought the only person's sex life I didn't want to hear about was my dad's, but now I have the image of your grandfather "moving around his loin" stuck in my head. And you, Grandson, just sound scary. Sex is not an endurance sport. There's no trophy for who lasts longest—it should go on for as long as it's enjoyable. Anything more, and it's just not fun.
Finally, I would like to reiterate that every adult—no matter how ancient—is entitled to a fulfilling sex life. Every adult, that is, besides my dad, T.O.L., and T.O.L.'s horny old granddad.
Grandson freaking you out? Write Dategirl at firstname.lastname@example.org or c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104.