There's an old one-liner, culled from back in the day.
"I'm against too much sex on television," it goes.
"I mean, I keep falling off!"
Last night I saw too much sex on television---this time, I mean spewing forth from my 50" screen in my living room.
I'm talking real, unadulterated sex. Not pretend sex, not inferred sex. Not fictitious sex.
On ABC, no less.
It was a shade past 10:00 last night and the family and I happened upon "Bachelor Pad," an amalgam of "The Bachelor" and "The Bachelorette." It was the first time we'd ever seen "Pad."
Apparently, "Pad" brings back contestants of the other two "seeking partner" shows and throws them together in yet another dating bunker hole, from which they must scratch and claw to find
"love"---and the $250,000 grand prize, which might be the greater of the two incentives.
On last night's episode, everything was going along in typical "reality" show fashion (cutaways to contestants talking individually into the camera about each other, etc) when suddenly a dark turn was taken.
The first indicator that something bad was about to happen was when we were shown grainy footage. Nothing screams "crime or something shocking about to happen" more than grainy footage from a hidden camera.
Sure enough, a female contestant enters the room where the camera is hidden at a high angle. She begins to disrobe. The camera zooms out to reveal that she is doing so by a bed, which is occupied by a man who, seconds earlier, was revealed to us as clearly being her "boyfriend."
The show then cut back to the girl talking on camera about what was going on in the bunker hole/mansion. Then it cut back to the grainy footage. This happened several times, and each time it did, the man and woman were in deeper throes of "passion."
Their squirming under the covers was easily deciphered, as was the French kissing.
These folks were doing the nasty, on prime time TV. On network television.
Our 18-year-old daughter was watching with us, which added to the discomfort in our front room.
The escalating passion shown by the grainy footage was uncomfortable at best and disgusting at worst.
The sheet and blanket did a poor job of masking the grinding that was going on beneath them.
Does the FCC even exist anymore? Where are the network censors?
What's worse, the footage added nothing, really, to the show. Look, we got it: SHE "loves" HIM. She said so, because her microphone caught her whispering, "I want to have your children" into his ear, moments before she was shown stripping and joining him in bed.
So we didn't need to see her "proving" that love with passionate wrestling under the sheets.
In an instant, we went from curiously checking out a show on ABC to being a jazz soundtrack and coin dispenser away from hotel room porn.
Shame on you, ABC. Here's hoping you get fined for last night's display. I'll gladly put a coin dispenser in my front room for that.