I just remembered the issue of G-strings more or less came up during a local election a few years ago. One of the town’s news organizations polled the candidates for city council on the various issues of the day. And for unknown reasons, their poll included a question or two about what candidates planned to do to further regulate the town’s erotic dance clubs.
Now, this town does not normally have a wide range of political representation. There is almost no real left here, except if you want to call one lonely, moderate Democrat a real leftist. How he gets elected is quite beyond my poor power to fathom.
On the other hand, the right wing extends all the way to the extreme right…and then maybe a bit beyond that to include folks who would — in all probability — find a way to privatize the town’s moonlight on the grounds that free moonlight is godless socialism. So, you might expect to find a bit — not too much, but a bit — of disagreement among the candidates on the issue of further regulating the erotic dance clubs. That is, you might at least expect there to be a moderate right wing candidate in favor of further regulation; an extreme right wing candidate in favor of complete deregulation; and, of course, an even more extreme right wing candidate in favor of requiring patrons to hand-over permission slips signed by their church pastors before being admitted to the clubs.
But that’s not how the candidates responded to the poll. One and all, from the lonely, moderate Democrat right through the “deregulate everything” crowd and on to the “privatize the moonlight” folks, the candidates agreed that erotic dance clubs in this town must be further regulated.
In my more than 15 years in this town, it is the only issue I can recall that has united all factions in the local politics.
When I read that poll, and saw how mightily the scoundrels were united, I knew that regardless of who got elected that year, the city council was going to be hellbent on further regulating the erotic dance clubs. So,
I prepared for the worse.
I got busy mourning the lacy past and emotionally preparing myself for a future in which the local dancing girls would be required by draconian ordinance to avoid coming within 30 feet of a patron, while wearing high-collar flannel night gowns and bank vault quality steel g-strings. I imagined the dancers staring out from their stage at a room full of distant men with binoculars. I thought of the Gregorian chants I’d soon enough hear blasting from the club speakers, and of the exciting ways my favorite dancers would find to — not dance their sexuality — but to dance their solidarity with the State’s fence posts.
Then, not a damn thing happened.
No one on the new council bothered to write up and introduce even a single ordinance further regulating the dance clubs. The issue wasn’t even mentioned in the meetings. And no reporters followed up on the candidate’s campaign promises. It had become a non-issue.
The only issue in recent history to unite the whole slate of candidates, was now the only issue in recent history to unite the whole body of the council. The only difference was all the candidates had been for it, while all the council members were against it.
I could only marvel at how winning an election could change a person.