In 1955, I went off to live with my stepmother and half-sister and my dad who attended night school on the GI bill. One night after dropping him off at school, we went to the drive-in to see The Barefoot Contessa. It was a complicated movie involving a dancer who likes to go barefoot then becomes a famous actress and eventually marries an impotent count. He finds out she's been unfaithful when she turns up pregnant so he shoots her. By this time I was pretty confused so I asked Mom why he was so mad at her; she hesitated for a moment then answered, "His pecker was shot off." Oh, I thought, Oh my goodness.