NBA Gone Las Vegas

OK.  I am officially old now. This is a confession that those who know me would probably chuckle about as one look at me tends to confirm my chronological status.  But I ascribe to the idea that the clock and the spirit do not run at the same pace. I have always considered myself 'youthful' in attitude and outlook.  I embrace new technology and changing styles in clothes and social structure. At least I thought I did. I have been alarmingly aware of the onset of bahhumbugism in my distaste for pants that barely cling to a young man's bottom, to music which has no melody, to poorly researched and phrased news reports and to the apparent evaporation of the difference between 'less' and 'fewer'.  However, I have steadfastly rejected grunting and saying "That's the problem with today's youth" as my parents frequently spouted over the breakfast table. So what has changed?

Last night I watched the NBA All Star Game. I really love basketball and the idea that all these great players would be pitted against each other fueled my imagination. I was looking forward to a game played with spirit and determination, a great competition that would showcase the highly honed skills of professional athletes. It wasn't a good game, it was lackluster and almost a parody of itself but this isn't about the game...it's about the presentation of the game.

NE-YO performs before the NBA All-Star basketball game Sunday, Feb. 17, 2013, in Houston. (AP Photo/Pat Sullivan)

What's with the smoke and the lights and the whole Las Vegas atmosphere? What's with the announcer, sounding like he is opening some pro-wrestler match?  The coaches and the players looked downright embarrassed!  And then came the dancers.  It now seems that choreographers have succumbed to the idea that grabbing one's genitals and generally mimicking the sex act is dance.  I have never been to a strip club, have never seen pole dancers, lap dances or dancers outside of films but I have studied dance and the line between pornography and art is not that hard to identify. Shelley Winters once said, "I think on stage nudity is disgusting, shameful and damaging to all things American.  But if I were 22 with a great body, it would be artistic, tasteful, patriotic and a progressive religious experience."  Am I merely reflecting that sort of age-reality distorted disconnect? I hope not.  She was being funny but when we have barely clothed women dancers rubbing their vaginas on barely clothed male dancers on stage during prime time ATHLETIC stagings, how long before we have the actual sex act thrust on us with a musical beat behind it so we can call it art?  I am certainly not prudish nor am I in favor of censorship but it seems there IS a gradual decline in our character as a people when we accept and promote the distortion of art to appeal solely to prurient and commercial interests. Dance is a beautiful art form which CAN authentically and artistically capture the magic of the sexual attraction between the sexes, it can present the irresistible magnetic attraction between two people, it can reflect the poetry and the violence that can exist in the act, but it should do so in appropriate venues, before an appropriate audience.  With every presentation that lowers the bar of our expectations we lower our standards for the NEXT event with flashing lights and smoke machines and force our dancers to prostitute their art.