Tag Archives: Showtime After Hours

My porn got diddled away

9 Nov

I fancy myself as something of an inventor, maybe even an innovator.  The trouble is that I am a lot of lofty ideas and talk, but not so much action.  The sort of marketable genius that I am capable of is documented here, in my first ever blog post.  As you know, I invented the Obama Chia Pet years ago, but never did anything but sit on the sofa and talk about how great a Chia head with an Afro would be.  I lost out on all of that sweet moolah.

Well, this past spring I “invented” something else that I was pretty sure would be a hit.  Allow me to first disclaim that just because you come up with something, or uncover a need does not necessarily mean that it is rooted in a long time obsession.  Sometimes you just get an idea from the corner of your eye.  Having been burned too many times from past ideas and products that have been scooped up by the early birds of the world, I had actually begun trying to figure out how to give this new worm some legs.  It was going to be a cable television show that would hybridize retro-porn movies, Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Beavis and Butthead and an excuse to drink with friends.  I floated it to some entertainment people-in-the-know and got enthusiastic responses.  And then, I was listening to The Regular Guys morning show almost two weeks ago and the guest was Dave Attell, who was promoting his new show:  Dave’s Old Porn.  That.  Was.  Mine.  Damnit.  What he described was almost exactly my concept.  Curse you, Mr. Attell.

I think I was in my early twenties the first time that I ever saw a real porn movie.  “Showtime After Hours”, “Skinimax” or HBO’s late night showing of Lady Chatterley’s Lover do not count.  The first “adult film” I saw was tears-streaming-down-face-hilarious.  It was shot in someone’s groove-ass vaulted den and there was a pizza delivery guy, who looked nothing like my Domino’s dude.  I believe this particular art piece was called F*cking Brunettes.  Guess what the common thread was.  Yep, it was all raven-haired “actresses” getting frisky with everyone from boyfriends, plumbers to pool guys.  Except that some of the “ladies” were peroxide blondes, so they had to wear wigs.  That sometimes slipped.  Better still was that the “talent” really believed that they were there to act and so there was a script that was adhered to…no matter what.  Since this was edited in a time before Mac Book Pro and you actually had to purchase film, editing was more labor intensive and re-takes were costly.  Let’s just agree that the transitions were not smooth.  And because there is no record of this movie on imdb, I am unable to find out any information about the make-up and wardrobe professionals who worked on set.  My guess is that the “talent” was instructed to just wear something made from synthetic fibers and bring their fluffiest, most all-encompassing merkin to the set.

Then in the late 1990s, we had a malfunctioning cable box that for some crazy reason allowed us access to ultimate fighting and the Spice channel.  The Spice channel was not the precursor to the Food Network.  I know, you’d think so, right?  It showed nekid movies.  Even though they were just the soft-core variety, we should have demanded to have that devil’s box replaced, but getting an appointment with the cable company was just such a hassle, so we kept it.  During this time I would watch the Spice flicks, but only the credits…the names of the “actors” were the priceless work of thirteen-year-old boys.  Names like Peter North, Anna Malle, Ben Dover, Jack Hammer, Chesty Morgan, Seymour Butts were subtle, yet oh, so sexy and to the point.  For those of us living in the mainstream, there are several formulas to creating your own porn name, such as combining your middle name with the name of your first pet, or a street name where you spent your innocent childhood.  I could work under the monikers Ann Beechwood or Ann Ranger.  One makes use of the word “wood” and the other sounds like I’d be good at finding things in the wild.  Score!

Occasionally, I would have to actually see some of the movie to get to the credits.  These later 20th century movies showed significant advancements in breast augmentation, laser hair removal, handheld video recorders, and camera effects.  Someone was clearly investing in these movies, too.  The backdrops were often classy “mansions” with lots of white carpet and Levolor blinds, or fancy poolsides with scads of statuary and no shortage of chaise-lounges.  Also different were some pretty weird group scenarios that were never explained by way of any bulky dialog.  In fact, the talking was reduced to lip-lick sounds, grunts and a random, “Oh, yeah!”  Thanks to the elimination of the once important story line, I still have no idea why no woman ever removed her shoes during a scene.  Me?  I always wear flip-flops in the bathhouse at the pool, or in the gym locker room because I don’t want other people’s sweaty foot cooties crawling under my toes.  But these women, while guarding against toenail fungus and potential harmful liver related side effects from Lamisil, are letting all manner of other things penetrate through their exposed skin.  Does that make any kind of sense to you?

And now with the Internets, and sites like youporn.com, there is no shortage of porn for the masses and their mass interests.  And it’s not funny, or culturally amusing.  It’s aggressive and psychologically damaging to watch.  Too many things are going in wrong places, it all looks manmade, and the pretense of even trying to parlay this into an acting career has been dismissed.  Kim Kardashian’s entertainment empire may have been the last successful springboard from nasty porn.  When I first went on line in 1997, I mistyped a search engine name and was directed to something so icky and depraved that I can only say “donkey”.  Shudder.  I couldn’t get out of its page and I finally broke down in tears and called Big Daddy at work.  I was hysterical.  No body needs to see that kind of stuff.  Ever.

And that’s why I had the idea for MY show.  It would be Big Daddy, me and our most funny friends drinking beers and critiquing movies from the Golden Age of porn.  You’d totally watch it, I know you would.  And now Dave Attell is already shooting season 2 of his show for Showtime.  He was on Chelsea this week talking about it.  He did an episode of it with Adam Carolla.  Why did I drag my feet on this?  Could it have something to do with no longer owning a VCR and having to hunt one down to even get started?  I’m pretty sure that Turner Classics has yet to go in and digitize The Rings Around Uranus or Taboo II yet.