Written by Erin Crawford Nov. 10, 2008

I was reading an article in the New York Time’s Style section that referred to a couple of themes that are popping up in my neighborhood that hearken back to the days of yore. Or, in this case, the late 70’s. For example, the economy is in the crapper, oil crisis, general bad administration goings-on, and of course just regular fashion/style/trend stuff. I mean, it’s the Style section, not Op-Ed.

I am a decent browser of news headlines. I get the gist of things for the most part. However, I am not particularly concerned with knowing too much. In my book, too much information is bad for my health both mentally and physically. I was glued to the TV at my neighbor’s house a couple of days ago fighting tiny panic attacks every time an ad for the evening news came on. It is scary out there, people. I prefer to pretend that everything is going just swimmingly out there in the big bad world and concentrate on damage control here on the home front. My main goal on a daily basis is keeping my daughter healthy and happy. If that is under control then I am feeling healthy and happy and I kind of like that. I know enough about the general state of news and politics and the like to be a chimer inner at a dinner party, but I don’t have time for any in depth analysis. Or maybe I am lazy. Or have ADD. Whatever.

Anyway, the article got me thinking about another theme from the late 70’s that came up in conversation during an outing with some old friends. We were discussing the pool club I belong too and what it was like back in the olden timey days of our childhood. One of the guys mentioned “key parties” that were rumored to go on there. I was a little shocked and greatly amused. My knowledge of key parties is limited to watching the movie “The Ice Storm” by Ang Lee. For those of you unfamiliar with this cinematic masterpiece, I will give you the gist of the scene I refer to. Key parties are parties where the husbands throw all their car keys into a bucket and at the end of the party they reach in and grab some keys. Random. Oh, yes, and get to take the wife home of the owner of the set of key.  I didn’t know of any of the alleged participants and once the giggles and the “ews” wore off (picturing people our parents ages being such wild and crazy guys) the conversation moved onto other things. Like my missing wallet, lipgloss, broken cell phone and other things that go down after midnight while out and about.

Back to the couch at my neighbor’s house. While I was sitting there in a state of imaginary duress brought on by ads for Fox News, I told her about the alleged key parties at the club. She was shocked as well and then proceeded to top that story with one of her own. Not like that. Turns out there is a party that is going to be taking place in the near future that she and her husband were invited to. Regular Evite invitation from friends in their social group. Come one come all, to a … sex toy party. For husbands and wives.  Both. Couples. Married couples. We pondered that for a minute and came to the conclusion that it is approximately one step away from a swing party (picked up that terminology while researching “key party”). She said she just really wouldn’t want to know that much about this particular group of friends. I agree. It’s one thing to attend a sex toy party with your girl friends, or a sex toy shop with your partner. It just seems as though it could get a little, unseemly maybe.

While we were not judging the people who are down with that sort of thing, our reaction raised a good point. I am all for healthy sex lives and good clean what ever knocks your socks off stuff in a mutually consenting way. I am all for sex toys and sex toy parties and for married couples having sex. It’s the too much information part. Like do you really want to sit around with the moms from your playgroup and their husbands at a sex toy party? If I were married I am pretty sure my answer would be No thank you. It is one thing to discuss sex with your friends, quite another to discuss sex with your friend’s husbands and vice versa. Think about how awkward it would be to run into these people in the drugstore or the school recital for years to come. Not to mention that if the children got wind of it, they will be laughing and “ewing” years from now. At any rate, I wasn’t invited- maybe because a single woman would throw the dynamic off. Also, while I know who these people are, I am not really friendly with any of them. Just knowing that this party is going down is good enough for me. I am certainly looking at the neighborhood from a swingingly new perspective.