Like a lot of people functioning on a low budget this holiday season, I spent a great deal of my Christmas vacation sitting in front of the television, remote control in hand, searching for some form of free entertainment.

It wasn’t long after New Years when I decided my brain had been in a time warp long enough, and I needed something intellectually stimulating before my gray matter rotted in the land of yuletide reruns.

oping to catch up on the latest scoops around the globe, I turned to the evening news, and, much to my surprise, before my disbelieving eyes was a life-size diagram of the president’s prostate in all its graphic glory.

Now lets face it, the president’s health is a major concern in this country, but do we really need to see an approximation of the very device used to probe Ron’s urethra? And as if diagrams weren’t explicit enough, there were actual x-rays displayed for the nation’s viewing pleasure. I don’t know about you, but I really wasn’t in the mood to see one of Reagan’s glandular bodies in black and white.

Personally, I’d rather see a rundown of the Swiss bank account transactions that took place in connection with the still-ambiguous arms sale to Iran than see an x-ray of the president’s naughty bits.

It’s amazing how so little information is attainable concerning something as potentially crucial to this country as the Iran crisis, yet so much importance is placed on what food Reagan eats while he’s in the hospital and what he and Nancy exchanged for Christmas. One physician even went so far in his update to mention that the President’s catheter, a tube for draining urine, had been removed. Gosh, I wonder if Ron is using a bedpan?

I don’t think anyone could justifiably call me unpatriotic just because I’d rather watch All-Star Wrestling than see the details of Ron’s prostate surgery. Even if my own father was the victim of this unglamourous ailment, I wouldn’t want to know all the gory details, although I’d certainly be concerned.

Don’t get me wrong, I sympathize with the poor guy. I suppose going through what must have been a very painful procedure (here again, not having a prostate myself, I can only sympathize) and coming through with a clean bill of health is certainly something to be happy about.

And, of course the public should be informed, being that he is the head of our nation. It’s just that I think a simple summary of the facts would have been adequate—let Nancy see the x-rays. I just can’t picture the average American sitting before the television, Christmas leftovers and refreshments in hand, actually watching a depiction of the president’s surgery with anything but mild disgust. Mmmmmm, how ‘bout some glandular palpitation with that turkey stuffing?

I can’t help wondering how Ron must have felt when, lying in his Bethesda Naval Hospital bed, he saw his very prostate exposed before the populace on national television. Maybe he was relieved that the spotlight was on his internal organs instead of his internal affairs.

And what about the people who release this information? Being that medical details concerning any patient at any hospital are considered highly confidential, there had to be consent given by the President himself. Maybe Ron’s advisers thought it best to give the public something since they can’t come up with diddly squat to explain the arms deal.

Anyway, suffice it to say that there ought to be some kind of balance in the coverage of nationally important events. If the media are going to insist on displaying the president’s prostate, they should also provide diagrams of the procedures taking place in the White House basement.

But in all fairness, I guess I can’t blame the media entirely. I mean, it must be very difficult to surpass the iron clad gates of secrecy surrounding the Iran blunder. With so many questions left unanswered, I suppose the media figured some mucus membranes were the next best thing. Ole Ron may not know what Oliver North has been up to, but you can be sure he knows exactly where his prostate lies.