See Diary Part 21 here, or to access all entries, hit “The Diary” tab above.
[note: if you are easily offended, don't read this piece]
Entry — Yet Still Fall, 2008
I finally started watching ‘Between the Sheets’ last night.
A couple of days later:
Part of me wants to finish this show and the other part wants to delete the files.
A little while later:
I really didn’t need to subject myself to that. What in God’s name was I thinking? I’m really naive or stupid. Did I think this was going to be just some analysis of sex with all the suggestive comments I’ve read about it? Man, I am dumb. No, I’m not dumb; I just really like watching Richard Armitage, and that rendered me temporarily stupid.
And the manipulation of Richard Armitage’s parts was literally in my face! One minute I’m looking at this:
and hearing his character, Paul say, “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” The next thing…WTF?!! Uh, no, no, that’s not what I mean. I know what it is. That’s exactly what it looks like. Richard Armitage should get a f*cking award for that — literally. ROFLOL!!!
Then later he and Alona, his partner, are at it again, and if there can be an award for sexual groaning, Richard should get it. Meg Ryan’s got nothing on him. Oh, the vocal range. Ohmygosh! he’s good at this too! I think I’m traumatized. LOL! Me, who has always loved earthy humor and who has adored SO sexually and otherwise and thoroughly enjoyed making children with him and all the the other times we didn’t make any children, is feeling a little violated. I don’t know whether to laugh or scowl. But I am mad at myself for overruling my gut. My infernal curiosity got the best of me. I just had to watch one more thing with Richard Armitage, and it turned out to be what felt very much like gratuitous sex and definitely too much information. It would be about anyone!
How did I get here from John Thornton?
Maybe I’m just being a prude. But I haven’t ever been a prude. That’s just not me. Plus, I’ve seen nudity in movies many times, and it didn’t freak me out. No, I was desensitized to nudity long ago, which I’m not sure is good. But it’s hardly surprising since I saw both of my parents naked on several occasions when I was growing up, and I never thought much of it. But then, they didn’t appear to be having sex. LOL! ‘Between the Sheets’ was pretty graphic sex short of seeing genitalia, which is the only thing that keeps it from being porn.
Then there was the plain talking about sex, but that couldn’t have bothered me. ___________ [my sibling] and I grew up in a household where almost nothing was off-limits for discussion. My parents did stop short of talking about their intimate relationship, but that’s it. Talk of sex in general? Ohmygosh, I heard lots of talk about that. I get tickled when people mention their parents giving them “the talk.” The talk?! LOL! I got countless talks, and they were honest with a vengeance. In fact, there was such an honesty to my parents that it bordered on inappropriate at times. I’m sure that I, in turn, didn’t display the kind of decorum most others are accustom to; it’s hard to know when you grow up with such free talk.
I remember the first time I could hear my parents as other people must have heard them. SO came to dinner, and afterward we were sitting around the table talking. Dad and SO were talking and Mom was telling me about some article she’d read. If I’ve heard her begin with, “I was reading an article the other day,” I’ve heard her begin with it a thousand times. Most of the time it’s really interesting since her reading material covers such a variety of topics. This particular evening she launched into a clinical discussion. She’s always made a steady diet of JAMA, NEJM, a few other clinical periodicals, and of course the PDR. I think I was 15 before I realized people didn’t normally possess a PDR, and this was long before they were easily available to the general public. But Mom was always driven to find out about anything that went into our mouths, so she was never without it. That evening she began to hit me with her latest discovery. It was something about f*latio facilitating infections. It took me a few moments to snap to on the word, and then I didn’t move and wasn’t sure where to look. SO and I were pure as the driven snow at this point, so I was mortified by her free way with words and her pursuit of er, knowledge.
Now that I’m reading what I’ve just written, Mom seems buffoonish. I wish I knew how to really capture her and Dad. It’s so frustrating to want to say something, and it just comes out all wrong. SO has begged me to write a book about them. He thinks they’re too fantastic not to be captured on the page. I don’t think I can do it. Just don’t have what it takes.
Thankfully, SO wasn’t listening to Mom that evening, but really, even if he had been, he would have had a great comeback. He’s nothing if not great at comebacks. Still amazes me. Why I want to underestimate him I don’t know. Plus, he’s always admired my parents’ honesty. He would have simply laughed and praised them in his mind for their frankness. Hell, it would have been a relief since his parents were the type that make you wonder how they ever had kids. I guess I was his Gaylord Focker and he was my Pam. No, no, Mom wasn’t Rozalin Focker, she’s always been Auntie Mame and I’m Patrick. Except for my dad, that story could have been mine. To this day when someone asks me what Mom’s like, I ask if they’ve seen Rosalind Russell in Mame.
I don’t know whether to be thankful for her, or…Oh hell, yes, I’m thankful, and whom would I trade her for?
The next day:
Now I’m hacked at the producers of this piece. I hate being manipulated when it’s not fun. I can’t even talk about this to anyone because I would have to explain too much or lie, and I refuse to lie, so I’m not talking. All those other times I felt dumb watching something more than once?! That was so benign. I guess I could say something to SO, and he would listen, but eventually there would be another comical name for Richard Armitage. And I can’t get on the Army board. I’m pretty sure of the reception my reaction would get. It would be dismissed as the reaction of someone who just isn’t intellectual enough to look beyond the sex scenes to the larger context albeit they would do it subtly so as not to put down the provincial rube, and they would be so right. I am provincial and a rube.
But is this just about intellect or a bourgeois mentality? No, I’m a human being who is profoundly moved by sex, and that’s healthy, and it’s not all driven by my intellect or conventional mores although that’s part of it. Isn’t it a wonderful thing to be profoundly moved by sex? I’m sure I would rue the day I wasn’t moved by it or the day I could sit and watch something as graphic as ‘Between the Sheets’ and view it only clinically or merely use it to get off on. Hehehe look at Richard Armitage’s “peaches.” Oh brother. But then, some of the cute remarks about his peaches may be from people who are flabbergasted like me and trying to make sense of it.
I just really don’t want to watch people having sex and don’t need to watch them having sex to get turned on. But I could never say that on a forum because the minute someone says something like that hardly anyone believes them, or that’s how people seem to let on in a group. Everyone must be cool, and especially concerning sex. That’s how people come across, but get them talking in a private room, and it’s usually a different story. Anyway, I’m glad I had a visceral reaction. It was healthy, and I would worry about myself if I hadn’t.
Surely the people who put this show together knew it would have this reaction from some, or maybe they’re so desensitized they don’t know. I wonder. I hate sometimes that I wonder so friggin’ many things. I do not need to spend time thinking about this. What’s funny is that I’ll bet the makers of this show would love to know they riled someone like me. Kay Mellor and company hit the jackpot with my reaction. Of course my curiosity demanded I had to find out about her. Shit. I hate that I do things like that because what difference does it make what I know about Kay Mellor? Useless, useless knowledge, and I’m overflowing with it! And now I’m a little weirded out by the fact her daughter played Georgia, WTF? And her little granddaughter played Fiona. Then her other daughter helped produce it. Just a family affair. Wonder if Richard Armitage is a cousin.
I don’t know what to think of him. I’m feeling a mixture of disappointment and pity. His sexual scenes were much more graphic than any of the others. Why were his parts so in our faces? Yeah, I know the answer. Talk about being objectified. Wonder what it was like being a fly on the wall during that filming. Wait! I was a fly on the wall. LOL!
Not sure I can watch him in anything else or certainly not before I forget what he looks like scr*wing. This may really be the thing that cures me of my fascination. At least I had the common sense to watch it on my computer. If I had been watching that on tv and my kids came into the room, I don’t know what I would have done. That right there tells me I shouldn’t have been watching this show. SO and I have always been so open with them. We talk about everything with them short of our intimate relationship, which is none of their business. But everything else is up for discussion. To sneak around and watch this show?! It sounds like something I’d rather not name.
A few days later:
I’m sure not Richard Armitage’s mother and sure as hell not old enough to be his mother, but I find myself thinking about her and continually trying to rationalize his part in this show. Good grief I am actually thinking about some actor’s mother! I read a few of his supposed comments about the show, and now I can’t help but wonder about her. Supposedly he didn’t know what he was getting into. LOL! Bullshit. I also read that his mother watched it. What?! How would I feel if I saw my son like that? (eyes crossed) Mrs. Armitage, wherever you are, I feel for you.
I need someone to slap me for caring about this.
This was a tough entry to edit, and I have so many more thoughts about this show. But I’ve got to stop. More later.
See Diary Part 23 here.
Screencap is mine.