Gadfly is Marty Aussenberg, a columnist for the weekly Memphis Flyer.
Have you heard? Al and Tipper Gore are separating, after 40 years of marital bliss. Judging from all the hubub in the media over this story, you’d think the earth had somehow deviated from its orbit. How could two people who were married to each other for so long possibly call it quits? What does this say about the institution of marriage, and will the earth ever return to its position vis a vis the sun? I have my own theory about this parting of the ways, and it’s based, in part, on a sad episode in the Gores’ history. And while part of it, I admit, is tongue in cheek (albeit plausible) speculation, the fact is, for the Gores, just as for so many others, the past can be prologue.
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I, for one, was totally unsurprised by the announcement of the Gores’ separation. The only thing that did surprise me is that it took as long as it did, because I suspect this was brewing for some time–25 years, to be exact. I trace the etiology of this earth-shattering breakup to the events surrounding Tipper (that name, alone, should be grounds for divorce), and her self-appointed crusade on behalf of America’s children, and their need to be protected from audio recordings of a sexual or violent nature. No, I’m not talking about censorship as it was practiced by such arbiters of taste as my own adopted home town’s notorious Lloyd Binford . I’m talking about the organization formed by Mrs. Gore in 1985, with the support of several other senators’ wives (including Strom Thurmond’s), known as the Parents’ Music Resource Center (“PMRC”).
The objective of the PMRC was to (and I’m cutting to the chase here) censor the content of the lyrics on music recordings. Oh sure, they called it record “labeling,” but everyone recognized it for what it was. As a result of Mrs. Gore, and her cohorts’, efforts, a hearing was held before a Senate committee in which witnesses, including “Tipper”(I don’t know why this tune pops into my head every time I hear or see that name) appeared before the members of that committee to testify about the evils of unregulated music lyrics, in an effort to get the government to support, ultimately, censoring those lyrics.
The hearing is noteworthy for, among other reasons, the appearances of Frank Zappa and Dee Snider (not to mention John Denver), noted musicians of their time, who eloquently opposed the efforts of Mrs. Gore and her taste police. And, guess which senator just happened to be on the committee that held that hearing? If you guessed Al Gore, shame on you for your cynicism, but congratulations for your perspicacity. That’s right, “Tipper” got her husband to convene a hearing on her pet project, who then participated actively in that hearing, including by asking the witnesses (not the least of whom was his own wife) questions about the PMRC’s campaign. It’s bad enough this paragon of Democratic principles could even entertain the prospect of censorship, of any kind, but it’s even worse that he didn’t recognize how utterly inappropriate it was to entertain those prospects in his official capacity, in a public forum where his wife was advocating them.
That always struck a discordant note for me, since all of the ethical standards I’m aware of require someone with a personal relationship to the parties (or witnesses) in a proceeding to disqualify (or recuse) themselves from that proceeding. But I guess that standard was unknown to then-Senator Gore (even though it was highlighted for him by Zappa in his testimony), or didn’t matter to him in the ethics-free zone known as the U.S. Senate, since he jumped right into the agenda of his wife’s proposed version of Hollywood’s notorious Hays Code with both feet. I wondered, at the time, why a U.S. Senator would commit such a blatantly improper act, and then I figured out what mattered to him more than ethics. That’s right; I deduced that Senator Gore bargained away his integrity for a roll in the hay.
And, how did that happen? Well, since I’ve obtained access to a clandestinely recorded episode in the Gore’s bedroom from that time, the true story can now be told, and it goes like this: scene, Al and Tipper Gore’s bedroom, at bedtime; actors: Al and Tipper Gore. As the scene opens, the couple is in bed. Al is feeling a bit “frisky” (his term), and so rolls over towards Tipper’s side of the bed, and uses his usual signal for sex, “Tipper, let’s have sex” (Al is too square to use one of the many colloquialisms for that), to which Tipper responds (phonetically): “Wha, Ayel, honeh, ah don’t rahtly know whetha ahm exactleh in the mood foah thayat toonaht; but, yew know, thayer’s this thang ahm wantin’ youah li’l ole Senate to do, sugah pah, ayand ah thought yew maht be able to hep me with thayat bah holdin’ some o’ them li’l ole hearins y’all hayave from tahm to tahm.”
By this point, of course, Al is in a lather (Tipper’s Southern drawl always had that effect on him), and is starting to provide, shall we say, palpable evidence of another reason he’s frequently referred to as “wooden” (a big issue if his reputation is to be believed), so he says, “sure honey, whatever you want. Now, about that sex.” At this point, of course, I can’t tell you what happens because you may need to be protected from any description of sexual activities, but let’s just say both parties to this “tit for tat” (so to speak) conversation ended up being satisfied with its outcome.
Even Frank Zappa realized what the lubricant for the hearing was. He has been quoted as saying , in response to the question of how this subject merited a Senate hearing, “A couple of blow-jobs here and there and Bingo – you get a hearing.” Not to digress, but speaking of Frank and Tipper, he provided a priceless defense of his position, and indictment of hers, on CNN’s “Crossfire” , at one point telling his conservative protagonist on the show, a columnist for the Washington Times, to “kiss my ass.” Oh, Frank, how we miss you.
I lost any remnant of respect for Al Gore I may have had as a result of that incident (and it didn’t make me feel any warmer or fuzzier about Tipper either), and was one of the reasons I could never, after that, entertain the idea of voting for him for any public office (much less the presidency), and so it doesn’t pain me in the least to see this “power couple” split up.
I suspect that Al got tired of the kind of sexual extortion his wife had so adeptly mastered all those years ago, and probably continued to practice in the interim (why relinquish a weapon that works, right?), and decided he had reached his tipping point with Tipper.
So, goodbye, Al and Tipper, and now let’s resume orbiting around the sun, shall we (even if, according to Al, we’re getting alarmingly warmer by doing so).
