Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

No, you didn’t read that title wrong.   Miss Cyrus’ outburst teh other evening at whatever the Hollywood shindig was (and which I will not dignify with a description here) actually proved beneficial at Port Swiller Manor.

You see, I was lounging in the Port Swiller library, working my way through the Peej O’Rourke cycle (which I do every couple years) when teh eldest (now 15 y.o.) gel suddenly appeared, quivering with indignation.

“DAD!” she exclaimed, “Have you heard about what Miley Cyrus did?!! And on tee-vee!! And on a show that was supposed to be “teen-appropriate”!  I mean, what is that?!!”

Oh, ol’ Robbo knows what to do with a hanging curve ball left out over the plate.

“Yes, sweetie,”I replied lazily, “I’ve read about all that.  All I can say is that, disgusting as it was, I’m not the slightest bit surprised.”

“WHAT?” she answered, nearly hitting the ceiling with fury.

“Oh, yes,” I said, “Defining deviancy downward and all that.  Let me explain….”

And I talked about the cult of celebrity.  And I talked about self-consuming decadent hedonism.  And I talked about Feminism and its reduction of sex to mere self-gratification.  And I talked about lowering bars and Miley’s efforts to top “Lady Gaga” and the latter’s efforts to top “Madonna”, and so on and so on.   I touched on all the “reality” and “talent” shows that seem to be so popular, but which, so far as I gather, seem to be focused primarily on people determined to make fools of themselves so long as such foolishness gets them in teh spotlight.  I even managed to slip in references to Sodom and Gomorrah and teh pure evil of secular humanism.  And to put the cap on it, I was able to point out that the traditional values regarding dignity, self worth and sexuality, based of old-fashioned Judeo-Christianity and assumed as a matter of course twenty or thirty years ago, and which Mrs. R and I have tried to instill in teh gels, recently have become downright counter-cultural.   Indeed, I noted my semi-joking belief that sooner or later men in trench-coats and ear-pieces are going to appear at the door of Port Swiller Manor in the middle of the night and invite ol’ Robbo to go for a ride……

Now, I’ve bloviated on such topics to teh gels many a time and oft before.  Usually, all I’ve gotten for my effort has been a roll of the eyes and some muttered comment about crazy old Dad living in the 18th Century.  What I have Miss Cyrus to thank for here is that this time, teh gel actually listened to my rant.

As Washington Nationals’ tee-vee play-by-play guy Bob Carpenter likes to say when a Nat hits a dinger, “See!  You! Later!!

Sigh,” she finally said.  “Why did I have to be born in such awful times?”

“Just chance,” I said, “And they are, indeed, awful.  But be thankful for your birth,  play the hand you’re dealt, and try to live by what you know is right.  Why do you suppose I ignore so much of the trash around us?  Truth always remains Truth, whether it’s popular or not.”

“Um,” she replied meditatively.

Given her usual responses to my didactic efforts, I call that a win.

And speaking of such, I also opined that Miss Cyrus’ motive in making an ass of herself on stage had something to do with promoting her latest album.   I have not verified this independently, but the eldest gel informs me that there has not been any spike in downloads of the big song on said album since Miss Cyrus’ outburst.

As I say, I don’t know if this is true, but I like to think that Miss Cyrus’s excesses and the evident backlash against them suggest that the pendulum has finally peaked in its arc and is getting ready to swing in the other direction.  Lawd Almighty, I certainly hope so.