When I Get That Feeling, I Want Textual Healing

The Missus and I visited my folks this weekend. Their spare bedroom has a weird collection of books.

The owner's manual for the Datsun 510 they traded in in 1985.
Needlepoint books.
A few Tom Clancy novels.
A couple of books on how to mix drinks.

But what sends me is The Art of Sexual Ecstasy next to Profiles in Courage. Do my somewhat aged parents like to think about JFK while they get it on? I’m not sure what to do with that thought.

Maybe I'll buy a pill-box hat for my wife.

It's all very unseemly.