This may sound counter-intuitive but the great skank debate reminds me of this story of my mother’s first date with my father back in 43.
My father had a brother named Sam ( I named my oldest after him) he was never married but was very “popular” as evidenced by the group of elderly ladies in the back of the church that people avoided looking at during his funeral. He also had one son who is one of the best looking men I’ve ever seen.
One day in 1943 my mother was at I believe the Elks club with a couple of girls she knew when Sam came swaggering in. Sam noticing the three of them came over. With the exception of my mother the girls were smitten and were all over him while my mother didn’t give him the time of day. This of course peaked Sam’s interest in my mother to the point where the other girls were displeased ending in one of them spilling a drink on her dress.
After coming out of the bathroom my mother was angry and did the one thing she could think of to get back at the two of them, though uninterested in Sam she agreed to go out with them the following week.
Well Sam being Sam was all hands and although times were different in 43 my mother being my mother was having none of it. Finally she had him pull over, got out of the car and took a Taxi home having enough of his amorous attempts.
When Sam got home his younger brother (my dad) asked how his date when, and Sam answered: “Cripes Dominic I’ve never seen anything like it, let me tell you something; if you want a good Catholic girl, that Mary is the one, she wouldn’t let me get anywhere with her.”
My father laughed, Sam laughed and the both forgot about it.
Two weeks later My mother was at the Elks again, this time with her older sister Grace and her husband. My father (a good-looking man in his own right) walked in wearing his Navy blues and was getting some attention when he noticed my mother.
My father was a much different kettle of fish than his older brother and noting the three at the table assumed that Grace (10 years older than my mom) and her husband (many years older than Grace) were her parents. So he approached the man who would eventually be my uncle and asked permission to dance with his “daughter”. Aunt Grace’s husband was taken aback a sec but decided to have a bit of fun with him and pontifically gave his permission. My father having done what he considered the proper and honorable thing then approached my mother and had this exchange:
Excuse me miss, your father has given me permission to ask you to dance.
(suspicious) My father? When did you talk to my father?
(slightly confused) Just now. He gave me permission so may I have dance?
(very suspicious) What are you trying to pull? My father isn’t here!
(confused and embarrassed) But he’s right there, I asked him and he gave permission (pointing to my future uncle now laughing)
Oh, well that’s my brother in law, not my father, but I’ll dance with you.
My father made a date with my mother for next week but was very embarrassed and told the story to his brother Sam that evening. When Sam asked the girls name he said excitedly “Mary Quartarone? That’s the girl I was talking about! Boy Dominic that’s the girl for you!”
Needless to say things worked out, his future father in law was impressed by the story and my parents were married in 1947 and enjoyed 40 years together until my dad death back in 87.
Why does this remind me of the Assange case? Just this. The best way to avoid a bad situation is to avoid it. The right thing is generally the smart thing and the smart thing would have been not to have Assange in the house. Does that mean the ladies “had it coming”? Certainly not. Does that mean Assange is guilty? I don’t know the facts and frankly neither does anyone outside of the parties involved, but one of the side effects of moral norms are the protections they provide to people.
If Assange is guilty he will hopefully get what he deserves, (and given the damage his wikileaks has done he deserves a lot) but I would suggest to any star struck young lady who finds herself in a social setting with a “player”, that my mother’s 68 year old example is the one to follow.
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