New York Sex

I still read the New York Press, just like I read the Duke Chronicle -- so I can pretend that I still know what's going on.

I haven't really been paying attention, but there's been a whole hoo-hah at the Press over editors and owners and publishers or some such. Since I don't actually live in New York anymore and I'm not one of the East Coast Media Elite, I don't care.

I do notice, though, that the new sex columnist, Dr. Dot, is very photo-friendly:

Unfortunately, she's not a very good writer. In fact, she's a horrible writer.

I guess I can understand that, since her original gig is massage therapist to the stars, though she's branched out to sex, love and relationship advice.

(Not to say, of course, that beautiful people can't be talented. There are lots of beautiful, talented people. Oh, how we hate them.)

Contrast that to the previous Press sex columnist, Judy McGuire (a.k.a. Dategirl), who was a good writer, but never seemed to write anything particularly interesting (unless you had an unhealthy fixation on all things Judy McGuire).

I guess Amy Sohn, the original NY Press sex columnist (the Press was relatively late to the chick sex columnist game) was probably the best of the three.

But of course, none of them hold a candle to Dan Savage.

Anyway, back in my day (and by the way, get off my lawn!), we were so scared of talking about sex that we had to get our sex advice over the wireless set from a little old grandma (who could put a bullet in your head from 300 meters, so no funny stuff), Dr. Ruth.

Nowadays, you kids have it easy, with your Internet and your high schoolers having oral sex at high noon in the middle of crowded sidewalks and every college newspaper's female sex columnist ("Ooh, it's a girl! And she talks about how she has S-E-X!") who thinks she's Carrie Bradshaw, bravely tackling the subject of vibrators or rimjobs or whatever in a manner that is completely not trite.