My mother called me today to chat, and happened to bring up this little tidbit. She then subjected me to a tale about accompanying my father to a showing of Behind the Green Door “In a real theater, not in a booth or from VCR”
When I failed to act shocked she told the story again, emphasizing that it was in 1973. Finally she told me that she would have to subject my sister to the same story soon because she would be completely scandalized. I encouraged her to go ahead and do that right away, since I really didn’t want to hear the story again.
The thought of my parents going to an adult theater (one year before they were married) does not shock or scandalize me. It just kind of creeps me out and makes me want to find a teddy bear to hug while I drink away the memory of the conversation.
Stories like that are similar to videos of old and saggy people fucking… once it has been seen it can not be unseen.
Still, Marilyn Chambers death fills me with sadness. I haven’t been this sad since Linda Lovelace died in April of 2002. Although, mentioning that does give me yet another chance to resurrect this old picture…
RIP, Marilyn. Here’s hoping that somewhere up there you’re getting a seven gun salute that would sell millions in Japan.