One week ago, I celebrated my 69th birthday. I don't (emotionally) feel that old, though I am (physically) beginning to get twinges and aches where none previously existed. Intellectually, I believe I remain more than averagely competent. My sole problem area appears to be the current appeal of scatological (toilet) humor.
I loathed that scene in Bridesmaids. Those "bleachable moments" ads for Clorox do not encourage me to buy the product. I loathe the Cottonelle commercials asking "Would you go commando?' almost as much as I repulsed by the cutesy Charmin bears touting that you "could" go an extra day wearing the same underwear.
Much thought has not given me a precise moment or incident which gave rise to this irk with toilet humor. Lord knows I've had no problem with it in the past. I still chortle at the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles and the floating Baby Ruth in Caddyshack. I remember giggling the first time I actually understood what happened in Chaucer's "The Miller's Tale." I was bemused by the erupting toilet in Dogma.
My conclusion is that one of the indicators of age is what we perceive as funny. Three recent films that I have yet to watch for longer than 20 minutes offer samples of this humor-gap between me and many younger friends who loved them. I found Identify Theft a repellent movie because I know folks who've been in that situation. I wanted to jerk the chains of the Sisters not laugh at their final Ellis Island Party. Ted and Ted 2 were not Mark Wahlberg's finest moments!!!
My recent reflection has given me a much better comprehension of my Mom's annoyance when my brother introduced her to George Carlin's humor or when she scolded me after hearing me play Firesign Theater's We're All Bozos on this Bus.
On this humor issue I won't be an "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" person; I will continue to change the channel or mute the sound or not buy the product.
