Super Bowl prompting public to take action

It seems like centuries ago now, but it has been only a scant 44 years this Tuesday since Jack Paar walked off the set of his late-night show in a huff. NBC's censors at the time thought a funny story he was telling was too off-color, even for a crowd watching long after the kids were supposedly tucked into bed.

The joke went something like this: A woman from England was looking for a room while visiting Switzerland. A schoolmaster helped her find one, but later, as she was getting ready to move, she suddenly realized she hadn't seen a "W.C." (That's short for water closet, which was a refined way of referring to a bathroom.) She wrote a note to the schoolmaster asking him if there was a W.C. He, not being as refined, assumed she was referring to the Wayside Chapel, and he wrote a note in return that carried the unfortunate misunderstanding in some amusing directions.

The W.C., he said, was nine miles from the house and was capable of holding 229 people. But it was open only on Sundays and Thursdays. He told her a lot of folks bring their lunches and make a day of it, and that on Thursdays there is a musical accompaniment. The joke continues in that way for awhile, ending in a promise that the schoolmaster would be happy to reserve the best seat for the woman, where she could be seen by all.

Network censors, whose job it is to gauge the unspoken limits of the culture, felt this kind of bathroom humor was too much to beam into unsuspecting living rooms in 1960. They probably were too cautious, but my guess is they didn't miss by much.

My, how those limits have changed.

Jack Paar recently passed from us, unfortunately. One wonders what his reaction would have been to last week's Super Bowl.

In 44 years, we have gone from fear of even discussing bathrooms in a roundabout way to beer commercials where the punch line involves horse flatulence.

And that was only the tip of what was passed off as clever and creative during the broadcast. The commercials were surpassed only by the halftime show, which progressed from scantily clad dancers to a rapper grabbing his crotch to Kid Rock wearing an American flag as a poncho to the much-discussed climax, in which Justin Timberlake tore away Janet Jackson's top while singing, "I'll get you naked before the end of this song."

Somewhere along the line, no one is exactly sure where, this passed the limit of what today's general audiences will tolerate. How do we know? Not because the FCC was monitoring that limit as it should, but because it has reported receiving thousands of angry phone calls and e-mails.

But the limit is like a tide that is always receding, moving so far from shore that it now is barely discernible. Officials at CBS have been falling all over themselves to apologize ever since, as has MTV, which produced the show. But there is a linear and easily documented progression from Jack Paar's days to today, and little reason to believe the direction will change.

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