Our discomfort can prove troublesome for kids

We see ads for Kotex, Tampax, etc. We see ads for Levitra, meds for enhancement, etc. When we have mixed company, we joke about the four- to five-hour erection, heart and many other reactions. Give us advice when preteen and teenagers (not ours) are in the room watching TV with us. We know they know all about this stuff, but it still gets embarrassing. So-o-o what do you do? -- J.S. and friends, Las Vegas

This question is so stunningly honest. So incredibly revealing. But I wonder if you and I will agree about what is being revealed.

Do you seek advice regarding how to help teenagers absorb and integrate the bombardment of advertising directly or tangentially related to human sexuality? Specifically, television commercials hawking the social and hygienic management of menstruation, erections on demand and pharmaceutical augmentation of wee willy wonka?

Or do you seek advice regarding how to absorb and integrate the embarrassment you feel in the company of pre-teen and teenagers when the subject turns to sexuality?

Because it seems to me you've already answered the first question: "We know they know all about this stuff ..." So, there it is. The kids are fine. Unless they are expressing or exhibiting anxiety or crisis in response to these advertisements, unless they are asking questions which reveal disturbing ignorance, then I would say that no advice is needed for how to manage the young people. They are cruising.

J.S. and friends, however, are gripping a bit. They're embarrassed.

Relax. Nothing's wrong with you. You've simply, duly and obediently inherited some 2,000-plus years of Western Civilization, which, in spite of our best intellectualizations to the contrary, grafts into our being a taboo regarding overt acknowledgements of sexuality across the line between childhood and adulthood.

Sigmund Freud, the Jew, wrote tomes about this. Ancient Hebrews, centuries before Freud, wove this same taboo into their salvation story:

Now the sons of Noah who went out of the ark were Shem, Ham and Japheth. And Ham was the father of Canaan. And Noah began to be a farmer, and he planted a vineyard. Then he drank of the wine and was drunk, and became uncovered in his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two brothers outside. But Shem and Japheth took a garment, laid it on both their shoulders, and went backward and covered the nakedness of their father. Their faces were turned away, and they did not see their father's nakedness. So Noah awoke from his wine, and knew what his younger son had done to him. Then he said: "Cursed be Canaan; A servant of servants He shall be to his brethren. Genesis 9:18.

J.S., you're embarrassed because these television advertisements uncover you in front of your/the children. The youngsters "see your nakedness," as it were. The trick is not to let your embarrassment curse the children, the way Noah cursed Ham's boy Canaan.

See, Ham didn't do anything wrong. If you don't want your kids to see you naked, then make sure you're wearing pants before you get drunk and pass out in your tent! Otherwise, it's your problem.

You get my point. It's normal to be made uneasy by the "nakedness" of sex. What's important is that we adults take ownership of our own unease. Otherwise we'll "curse" our kids with it. In one way or another, we'll conscript them to bear our shame.

The gross examples of that are the stories of moms and dads whipping the tar out of kids caught "playing doctor." Or, worse, shaming and scolding your youngster for having the audacity to find your Playboy stash.

But, the curse can happen more subtly, too. Rigid, anxious silence, for example. Mocking, ridiculing or shaming legitimate questions.

Advice? In "mixed company," I'd fake it. I'd get really interested in my plate of chips, veggies and ranch dressing. I'd feign to be normalizing things, or not to notice. If I was particularly uncomfortable, I'd pretend to need to use the bathroom, or to refill my drink. Whatever it took to leave the room and not make anyone anxious about my anxiety.

If it was just me and my kids (assuming the youngest was 13 or so), I'd dispel my anxiety through satire. I'd make a joke, mostly for my own benefit. Mostly to make fun of myself. "The tampon designed by female gynecologists ...." You mean, as opposed to the ones designed by male veterinarians?

It's the Johnny Carson intervention. That guy was never funnier than when he was embarrassed and painfully self-conscious. His wisecracks made that overt, which never failed to put the audience at ease.

Originally published in View News on Aug. 11, 2009.