New York a couple of days ago occasioned to have me walking down West 54th and just past the building most still call “Studio 54.” It doesn’t look like much is going on there now, and appears to be occupied by several offices and other tenants. What a place that was. It really wasn’t that hard to get in the door. You just had to be “wired” in one way or another, or act like you were. I’m mean, even Lillian Carter got in. I doubt the Secret Service let her get loose upstairs where everybody knew the main circuit breakers were “humming.” No matter. Once you were in the club, you were “in.”

Among other things, I’d say Studio was the blueprint of most of the internet social networking sites we’ve got today. Everybody is getting in one, or better, several. Who doesn’t have a My Space space? Remember when email was a passing phase like CB radios? If you’re wired, you too can secure your space.

We figured out during the Studio sexual revolution days, that having casual sex wasn’t necessarrily the cause of large psychiatrist’s bills, and nobody suggested that Pia Zadora was en route to Hell. Everybody was just getting wired to one another. Hooking up on the Internet is very much the same. I’m sure that kindly older dood interrupting the TV with his commercials is turning some coin making matches with lost soulmates online, but everybody else, and particularily women, are just widening their social and sexual circle. And for free. Sure, just like Studio, there’s plenty of trouble when you’re not looking, but for a bunch, it’s just a no-strings-attached social and often sexual experience.

Being wired has it’s positive and negatives for men and women, and I think the two movies here, both from France, are a pretty good “studio” of where it is today.