“Everywhere is walking distance”, spoke the great philosopher/comic Steven Wright, “if you have the time”. That said, I finally got off my butt on Saturday and took a walk on the Interurban Trail here in my side of the woods. I have a simple walking plan; I don’t do hills (yet), I don’t park at spaces set aside on the trail by the County (too many car break-ins), and I walk two miles away from my truck, which means I have to walk two miles back to my truck. A nice four mile walk, it’s just me and my IPod, rocking out on my favorite tunes.
The problem with walking is that I can think and rock at the same time. I’m very talented. While I walk thoughts come into my head that really shouldn’t come out and end up documented, for instance in this blog. Take Saturday, I had just finished watching the Monk New Years Day Marathon on my DVR the night before. One of the episodes that I watched was called “Mr. Monk & the Naked Man”. The naked man reference was to the nudist beach that was part of the plot. It was a good episode even though it made me a little uncomfortable. So, I’m walking along the trail at a very brisk pace, started thinking about the Monk episode and then it occurred to me.
If you take Viagra and you should call your doctor if you experience an erection lasting longer than four hours, then, if you’re a nudist should you call your doctor if you don’t have an erection lasting longer than four hours?
Whoa!!! Now you know what it’s like to live in my brain. Only these thoughts are the ones that got out.
I could never be a nudist. My birth was the only time that I was comfortable being nude in front of anybody that I wasn’t intimate with and even then I only did it kicking and screaming, the birth or the wedding night. Okay, it was the only time that I’ve been comfortable naked in front of someone else. The closest that I’ve ever come to being a nudist was the period from September of 1970 to June of 1971 and the following three school years up to my junior year in high school. Yes, those exciting days of gym class, 7th grade to my sophomore year in high school. Group showers were the norm, 60 naked guys running around with towels, taking those towels and snapping at each others little butts just as we were moving toward puberty. Snap a towel at my butt now and you get a nice little scream in a deep bass, snap it in 7th grade and my alto voice broke glass.
Here’s another thought, what happens when there is a case of mistaken identity at a nudist colony? It would be very embarrassing if someone walked up to you, say you’re a guy, and said, “Excuse me miss, can you tell me where the bathroom is?” I actually knew someone, fully clothed, a woman, and to me she looked like a woman, kind of, and she went to get her driver license (she had just moved into the state), and the DMV officer listed her as a man on the license. It was only after she walked out with the new license that she realized the mistake they had made. Of course if nudity was allowed maybe the DMV wouldn’t make that mistake. She asked me what to do about it, I was still trying to make up my mind again about whether she was a man or a woman.
You know how people are real comfortable in their home walking around naked but as soon as someone shows up they quickly put some clothes on? Do you think that nudists secretly walk around the house in clothes but when someone shows up they quickly take their clothes off? There are advantages to being a nudist, your clothing budget would be minimal, maybe one pair of everything, swimsuits are always optional, wearing a hat, not necessary. No skid marks in the underwear, although, skid marks on the furniture does become a problem.
No, I wouldn’t be a nudist, I like people to know the real me but I don’t want to be that real to that many people.
I was scanning the guide on my cable box earlier and noticed that there is a Jerry Springer Marathon on TV next week. I wonder what watching that will do to my thought process. I have to go now, it just started snowing again and I think I’ve got some space on my DVR.