I glanced over at the newspaper next to me and saw the page 3 girl of the day: a buxom blonde with raunchy, suggestive eyes, pursed lips and thrusted hips, her nudity bared for all to see. It saddened me that there was a market for this stuff, that men (and women I’m told) would want to see what was surely meant to be the beautiful privilege of a tender, faithful lover. It saddened me that even I, with all my high falutin ideals, felt just a tinge of sexual stirring at the sight of those pert nipples.

But mostly it saddened me that she was my daughter.