Washington Post sports columnist Mike Wise has a bone to pick with the WNBA team the Mystics and why they have no “KissCam.” He fears it has something to do with the majority if the audience: Lesbians.
While I would normally question his intentions and point directly to his pant region, his article actually makes it seem as though he’s human and not just in it for the titillation. (I just wanted to write “titillation”).
Wise makes some really great points in his article:
On the Jumbotron at Wizards games, couples on their first date sometimes balk at kissing, which generates laughter. Other times couples are ready for the lens — passionate kissing and theatrical groping, which usually brings the building to a crescendo of hilarity.”
…how long does a league keep some of its most loyal and longtime customers in the closet? How long should any historically persecuted group keep quiet when the Mystics (WNBA team) take sponsorship dollars from a company noted for discrimination against gays?
The money he is speaking of comes from the pocketbooks of Exxon Mobil, one of the poorly ranked companies on the HRC’s Corporate Equality Index.
While I can agree with Mikey about the basic human right to be on the KissCam, this brings up much larger issue — the main one being that I don’t like seeing anyone make out on the Jumbotron, nor do I like seeing it in bars unless I am the one doing it and I’m in a blackout. Come KissCam time, I take that as my cue to go to the bathroom, grab a pretzel, marvel at some of the mullets and then the lip-locking is done when I get back to my seat and knock over someone’s beer as I excuse myself through the aisle.
(Quick sidenote: To anyone attending anything anywhere — if you are in a crowded space and someone is about to walk in front of you in order to get back to their seat, pick your beer up from the ground and hold it like an adult until that person passes through).
Back to Mike’s point, those on the other side of the argument say that other people aren’t ready for such things to be shown to an audience filled with children. I can’t say I blame them. Kids are such delicate peaches these days. They need wholesome role models like Miley Cyrus to keep them on the straight and narrow. They don’t need two loving mothers kissing each other on the big screen rubbed in their young impressionable faces!
I wish we lived in a world where it really didn’t matter who was kissing on the jumbotron. No, the world isn’t quite ready for this, but will it ever be? Isn’t it true that we’ll never know the temperature of the water until we stick our toes in? If anyone’s afraid of watching two women kiss each other, they can just follow me to the bathroom line.