The Michigan Review

Safetygirl: Trash TV, Ann Arbor Style

by Lee Bockhorn

Spring has finally arrived in fits and starts here in Ann Arbor, and the masses have taken to the streets in sweats and sneakers, looking to shed a few pounds before summer breezes into town. Watching the throngs go forth to jog or rollerblade, one sees a demonstration of one of modern man's telling traits: as we become less concerned about the trash that goes into our brains (Jerry Springer et al), we attempt to compensate by becoming extra-vigilant about our bodies. Witness the recent uproar over tobacco, the scores of infomercials for "bun and thigh sculptors," and our anguished realization that every item on the grocery store shelf is proven to cause everything from baldness to diarrhea.

Ann Arbor's citizenry proves the point. As the town sprints over to Jerusalem Garden for the requisite healthy, organic vegetarian fare, it has also voted overwhelmingly to choose "Get Curious With Safetygirl" as the "Best Community Access TV show" in Current magazine's 1998 "Best of Ann Arbor" poll. Mr. Springer and his daytime cohorts have nothing on our friend Safetygirl, as you shall see.

"Safetygirl" is the nom de plume of one Tanya Brown, a local resident who tells us that her mission as Safetygirl is to "inform, educate, and more than anything else, entertain" us sexually repressed folks as she presents her "unique, no-nonsense approach to sexuality." Of course, this is community access television, so Miss Brown makes a lame attempt to characterize her program as "educational" ("Get Curious..." is a "safe sex" program), lest she be accused by puritanical busybodys like myself of merely peddling smut on local TV. And what sorts of "educational" topics are covered on "Get Curious"? One recent, and representative, episode featured four women discussing various techniques for "vaginal stimulation." Safetygirl and friends proceeded to demonstrate these techniques for the audience with the help of "Eve," who was wearing a strap-on replica of female genitalia, and who also happened to be pregnant. (One can only imagine who the father is, or what sort of enlightening home life Eve's lucky progeny will have, with mom's friend Safetygirl making frequent visits.) While describing one such "stimulation" technique, Safetygirl proclaimed that the last time someone used it on her, she "was a river of honey."

After a few minutes, vaginal stimulation got old, so Safetygirl proceeded to ask Eve how pregnancy had affected her sex life, and what "positions" worked best for an expectant mother. To help demonstrate, Safetygirl brought out her pet dildo, named "Suzy" (I'm not kidding), and joined Eve in a graphic display of Eve's preferred positions. The show concluded with a discussion of various role-playing scenarios for sex ("acting like animals" was "Faith's" choice), and with Safetygirl's admonition for us to "be free and safe!"

I happened to run across "Get Curious" for the first time a few weeks ago while channel surfing; I check local channels 8 and 9 in the evenings because they often play terrific jazz and big band music while the computerized "Community Bulletin Board" is on the screen. Needless to say, I was a little surprised to discover Safetygirl. The first reaction one has while watching the show (before revulsion sets in) is to laugh; it is hard not to chuckle at a group of women who would meet any reasonable definition of "white trash" engaging in lurid sex talk with their thick, Midwestern accents. (Imagine four characters from the movie Fargo sitting around and saying words like "dildo" and "orgasm," and you will see what I mean.)

Safetygirl tells us that the motivation for her television show comes from her own mistakes in the realm of sex. Because she was "naive," she became pregnant at the age of 16 (and acquired a sexually transmitted disease from her boyfriend in the process), and nearly miscarried. Apparently, the lesson Safetygirl learned from this experience was not that sexual activity should only be engaged in by those who are aware of the possibly serious physical and emotional consequences, but instead that one must merely "be safe" in the neverending pursuit of, in her eloquent formulation, "getting off." And so, inspired by her personal struggle, Miss Brown created "Get Curious with Safetygirl," of which a sampling of episodes includes the following titles: "Vulva Blues, Vulva News, Vulva and You," "I'm a Happy Orgasmic Middle Aged Woman," "At The Movies: Porn and Erotica Review," and "Discussion with Attorney Geoffrey Feiger" (better known as the legal apologist for that noble soul, Dr. Jack Kervorkian). We learn all these things about Safetygirl on the inevitable "Safetygirl" Website, of course. (Safetygirl is thoroughly modern not only in her morals but also in her means of conveying them to others.)

What is striking about Safetygirl and her friends is their utter coarseness; their lack of any sense of the non-physical aspect of the human sexual experience. One wonders if these crude persons are capable of anything resembling a truly loving and passionate relationship; where sex is not just a romp in the hay, but a union of souls. "Faith"'s preference for "acting like animals" during sexual role-playing isn't really much of an "act" for the good folks at "Get Curious." Their view of sex, with its sole aim for everyone to "get off" in as sterile and "safe" a manner as possible, denies that human sexuality has any spiritual or emotional elements which might make it more than the moral equivalent of two dogs humping behind a barn. What is even more aggravating to those with some residual sense of decorum and decency, is that the same types of people who always whine that "government has no place in the bedroom," "what consenting adults do in private is their own business," etc., are often the same cretins who fight to parade their perversion for all to endure in non-private forums like public access television.

Back to the wonderful, tolerant and enlightened residents of Ann Arbor. As they begin their maniacal jogging and calorie-counting this spring, at least something good can be said for their fanatical obsession with physical health: all of that exercise keeps them away from their TVs. Let's hope that Ann Arborites soon go on a crash diet from junk food television like the sludge served up by "Safetygirl." MR

This article was published in the 22 April 1998 edition of The Michigan Review (Volume 16, Number 10).
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