As I sit in an airplane, flying to Regina – otherwise known as Canada’s butt-hole and not, as so many people assume, Canada’s vagina – I’m wondering about the "mile-high" club and if, like tater tots and Oliver Stone, it peaked in the ‘80s. Because this fabled club, of which I am proudly not a member, was probably once very real. But now, it seems like an urban legend at best.

Yes, we’ve seen it in the movies (who doesn’t remember that racy scene in Snakes on a Plane?) and maybe even heard a story or two about some sexy mid-Atlantic romp your weird uncle had with some French woman in 1977, but do you know anyone who’s done it in an airplane (while that airplane was at least a mile off the ground) in the past decade? With modern airline travel being so stressful and bowel-clamping, I can’t fathom even the world’s horniest pair of high-paid porn stars wanting to get it on in one of those urine-sprinkled "lavatories."

And so, this article is a eulogy. A eulogy to days gone by ... to simpler times ... when two people (or maybe three?) could both occupy an airplane toilet at the same time and have sex. God. Just typing it out loud brings a tear to my eye. No wait ... that’s mucous. But honestly, openly admitting that we, as a society, have moved past conjugal airplane visits does make me wistful. Because what the mile-high club signified about our culture was more than just our loose morals. It signified our freedom. Our freedom to choose to be disgusting by putting our genitalia close to those nasty airplane bathroom sinks. Our freedom to flaunt our disregard for our fellow human by occupying one of two available toilets on an 18-hour flight to Kuala Lumpur for 15-plus minutes. And most of all, our freedom to be animals and f*ck anywhere we damn well please. No pissy stewardess was going to tell us otherwise.

But nowadays, the “flight attendants” reign supreme, scaring our libidos straight. And two people in the bathroom together is sure to set off “they must be terrorists plotting our death” alarm bells. No boner can sustain this kind of stressful beating. Best to just sit quietly, sipping your $6 Coke and watching Friends repeats on your in-flight entertainment system. You don’t want to rock the boat. Or the cabin.