Remember when people thought Elvis was bad. His gyrating hips burst on the scene in the 1950s. He caused teenage girls to swoon and their parents to panic.

My, how far we’ve come.

The late, great Ed Sullivan banned Elvis from his television show – at least for a little while. These days, Elvis could have his own reality show complete with all the extracurricular activity that led to his demise, and poor Ol’ Mr. Sullivan would have to hire a crotchety Englishman to co–host and his guest, the dancing Toastettes, would have to perform half–naked just for Ed to compete.

It’s a much different day and age now. It is hard for me to complain because society’s degradation has given me the freedom to write about such things as nipple discharge (an unfortunate potential side–effect of a certain hair loss prevention medication) and nose hair (an unfortunate side–effect of aging), but it sure makes it hard to sit down and watch TV with the kids.

I don’t want my children exposed to the proliferation of promiscuity and graphic violence on television – and that’s just the commercials. The actual shows are much worse. The bar for acceptability that was hovering in the clouds before Elvis burst on the scene is lying in the mud these days. It’s just way too easy for 30 minutes in front of the tube to ruin ten years worth of parental guidance and protection.

Speaking of parental guidance…

My mother, the woman who refused to let me watch one single minute of “The Dating Game” as a child, has even fallen prey to this new level of acceptance. The other day I was telling her about the comedy channels she gets on her satellite radio. Satellite radio came with the new car she bought about two years ago. She kept it for the two 40s and 50s music stations she enjoys and the Disney Channel my kids enjoy, but that is the extent of her satellite radio knowledge. She has no idea about the additional 125 plus channels. I’m not perfect. I admit I listen to the comedy stations when I borrow her car. Unfortunately, there is no subject or word off limits on these channels. Some of the material could have made Richard Pryor blush.

Anyway, I was telling my mom about the stuff floating on her radio dial, when she calmly and very seriously stated, “That’s why I watch nice, family stuff like ‘It’s complicated.’”

“Isn’t that a movie about a married man having an affair with his ex–wife?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said not skipping a beat. “Alec Baldwin is hysterical and Steve Martin’s character is actually very serious until he and Meryl Streep’s character smoke some marijuana…I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

“And it’s good family entertainment?” I questioned giving her another chance to clear up her position.

“Oh, yes!” she said. “Nothing like that stuff on the radio you’re talking about. You should take the kids to see it.”

I blame Elvis.