The (nude) Way We Were #1

A few years ago, my sons and I visited a public pool, swam for a few hours, then filed into the Mens changing room to shower off, dry off, and put our regular clothes back on. We pulled off our wet swimsuits and headed for the showers. When we entered the shower area, we were surprised to see three male teenagers showering in their swimsuits; they were surprised to see an old fat guy (me) and two teenage boys (my sons) stark naked and expecting to shower that way. They shrieked and ran out of the shower area, then out of the changing room to the outside, waiting until we left to return.

I thought they were crazy. Why would they do that? Everyone showers nude; who would shower in a swimsuit?

But the surprise was on me; like Rip Van Winkle, I had slumbered in societal ignorance while the society had lost its innocence. After asking around and talking to friends (especially younger ones), I learned that same-sex nudity is now considered indecent by many people. Even in all-male gyms and locker rooms, many shower only in swimsuits or underwear and change only in toilet stalls. Since my kids were homeschooled and we seldom visited public pools, we didn’t know this social norm had changed.

And like old geezers everywhere, I asked myself: “Has the world gone crazy, or is it just me?”

Not so long ago:

Junior-high and high-school students were required to shower after their P. E. class and before returning to their other classes. Showering was done out in the open in a large tiled hallway, and it was always done nude. Likewise, obtaining a towel and drying off was done within sight of others, and no one thought anything of it. The two sexes were separated from each other, and that was considered all that was necessary for “decency”.

P. E. swimming classes in public high schools required male students to swim nude. Only one sex of students used the pool at any given time, and nudity was expected for showers after P. E., so nudity for swimming was not considered unusual. Most schools required females to wear swimsuits, but the males were expected to be nude and not to be concerned about “modesty”.

Boy Scout outings involving swimming frequently consisted of nude swimming, and Scout camping often utilized outdoor latrines (which consisted of a ditch that all the boys used and threw a little dirt into afterwards).

Summer camps frequently featured nude swimming if they were single-sex or if the swimmers could be separated by sex.

Every YMCA pool required swimmers to be nude. This included the introductory summer swimming classes for children. Of course, YMCAs were male-only back then; females had the YWCA for their own use.

If you don’t believe that our American society was once this casual about same-sex nudity, check out these websites:

Naked swimming in school – part 1

Naked swimming in school – part 2

Naked swimming in school – part 3

 

Surprised? There’s more to come…

 

The Girl From Chicago And The Facts Of Life

The year was 1968. The place was a stable at a southern California spa-resort known for its tennis and golf tournaments. The person was a 5-year-old girl. Not just any 5-year-old though; this girl was very intelligent, and articulate beyond her years.

My brother and I were there working with our family horses, and the young lady from Chicago introduced herself to us.
Even more surprising was the apparent lack of anyone accompanying her. I’m sure she had parents or someone nearby, but no one was in sight.

She followed us around as we groomed them one by one, asking questions and watching intently. I led a mare out, tied her to the grooming station, and started brushing her. I mentioned that this horse was going to have a baby horse in a few months.

The girl continued with her questions: “That’s another thing I want to know. I know babies grow inside their mom, but nobody will tell me how they get out”

I told her that when the foal is complete and finished growing, the mare lies down and squeezes it out using strong muscles inside of her. I took her to the rear of the mare and carefully showed her the location of the orifice where the foal would make its entrance into the world. I explained that human babies are born the same way.

She seemed very satisfied with this answer. Not shocked, not embarrassed, not giggly, just satisfied and content.

After a few more questions and dialogue, she thanked us and excused herself, walking off to wherever her parents were.

Why do people find sex education so difficult?

My First Visit To A Nude Beach

That day in 1978 was a warm day in San Francisco – a rare event – and I was checking out the neighborhood after a medical appointment. A tabloid newsrack carried papers with the headline: “The Great Guardian Nude Beach Guide”. I was intrigued, and bought one. The publication was the San Francisco Bay Guardian, and (as it turned out) this issue featured their annual map and directory of nude beaches throughout California.

Nude beaches? Could beaches actually exist in California where people didn’t wear swimsuits or other clothes?

Little did I know of this 20-year-old phenomenon, but I was about to learn, and learn fast…

I studied the map and directory, and some of the beaches were right here in the city. Others were a short drive north or south on U. S. Highway 1. Most of all, I studied the photos: men and women lying on blankets and towels spread out on the sand…but wearing nothing at all! Did people really do this? How? Why didn’t the cops swoop down and arrest them all? I was hot on the trail of a mystery.

Little by little I explored the nearby beaches – or tried to. Some were quite difficult to find (which, I discovered later, was how people could be nude there). Others were easier to find, but had no visitors on weekdays.

Finally, I tried one to the south, near the small city of Pacifica. It was privately owned (very rare in California) and had its own parking lot. I paid the $3 for parking and admission, and walked down the stairs into…another world.

It was a relatively small beach, but alive with activity. Older people walking around, younger people throwing beach balls and Frisbees, a few kids here and there. Most were nude, but some of the women were topless – or bottomless.

I expected it to be erotic, and it was – for 10 or 15 minutes. The realization gradually sank in that the presence of nude people did not make it a sexual situation. It was not an orgy or a strip club – just people enjoying a beach.

After several minutes I made my way down to the water and waded in. Having grown up in a small beach town in southern California, the Pacific Ocean had been a major part of my recreation, but until this time I had never enjoyed it nude. It felt so elemental and primal to be hit by waves and let the water roll off unimpeded. An altogether new experience, and a delightful one, like sharing a new secret with an old friend.

The sun was getting lower and lower. After an hour or two I finally (and reluctantly) pulled my clothes on and hiked up the stairs to the parking lot. The rationality of driving home on the highway contrasted with the transcendental emotional experience of meeting sand, sun, and water with only skin and no pretenses.

A brief trip to heaven and back.

Give Him Back To The Earth

Some people liken their dad to John Wayne; mine was more like Walt Disney. Very energetic, creative, and curious.

He loved parades and fireworks and exploring. He never saw a road without wondering where it led and what it was like.

He loved plants and knew all about them, especially unusual primitive plants. He raised roses and cultivated bonsais.

He loved astronomy and knew all the constellations and major stars.

 

One day a chest x-ray showed a dark spot in one lung. It was cancer. They said he had about 4 months left.
They gave him a series of radiation treatments which would not stop the cancer, but kept it from becoming painful.

He died at home, 1 day short of the predicted 4 months.

His funeral was the first family funeral I attended. Our family has the tradition of attending a church funeral, then moving to the cemetery for a graveside ceremony.
Unlike most such services, the family remains at the gravesite until the casket is lowered and the grave is filled in. During the filling, each person takes a handful of dirt and tosses it into the grave.

One of my aunts noticed my hesitancy to come forward and toss the dirt. She looked at me: “Go ahead. Give him back to the earth”

My aunt was a likable person, but in that moment I hated her. I hated life itself. I hated everything. Most of all I hated that my dad who so exemplified life with his optimism and boundless energy was dead. It hurt. It didn’t fit. It wasn’t right.

I took a handful of dirt and threw it into the grave, more in defiance than acceptance.

That spring became one of my darkest seasons.
The lady I hoped would grow to love me turned away from me instead.
Everything I wanted my life to be and become seemed unattainable.

At times, the darkness was overwhelming, but with lots of prayer and some good therapy, the total sadness gradually gave way to light. The protective numbness faded away and I could feel again.

A few months later, I was back in the same cemetery.
The aunt who had angered me at my dad’s funeral had died; sudden, but not unexpected.

I tossed in a handful of dirt. This time I understood.
Death is part of the deal; it’s part of the natural order of things.
We don’t have to like it, but we have to accept it.

Even so, life is good.

Modesty, Decency, Nudity

In an age of twerking and sexting, many people define “modesty” as how much skin is covered.

Blouses must not be too low, skirts must not be too high, and fabrics must not be too transparent.

But, my wife and I taught our kids that modesty is being humble,
that decency is acting appropriately,
and that nudity is not necessarily sexual.

I remember when my son was playing pool in the game room at a resort, and a young lady walked in;

He was 15, she was 17, and neither was wearing anything except sandals.

Of course, it was at a nudist resort, and no one was wearing anything – except sandals.

Did the earth shake?
Did they become entangled in a spasm of teenage passion?
Did they drop to the floor and begin copulating?

No…

They said “Hi” to each other, and my son asked her if she would like to play pool.

She said “yes”.

So they played pool, and air hockey, and ping-pong.

And they talked. Honestly. And not about each other’s bodies, even though all their normally-hidden parts were in view.

When he leaned over to line up his cue, his genitals hung right out in the open,

When she did the same, her breasts hung the same way,

And when either picked up a ping-pong ball, you could see additional parts.

So really, what’s the problem?

There wasn’t any.

He didn’t have an erection, she was not displaying herself, they didn’t have sex;

They just played games for a while.

Trina

I met her one evening when I stopped by my sister’s house. She was a friend of one of my sister’s daughters, a quiet, inconspicuous young lady. My niece said “This is Trina”
“Trina?” I repeated, making sure I heard correctly.
“Yes, but sometimes people call me Kat. My full name is Katrina”.

She seemed like a typical fun-loving 12-year-old, but also mature and reserved. She had an engaging personality, and carried on a good conversation. Her mom rode a motorcycle with a group of friends, and had heart trouble, for which she had undergone surgery. Her dad’s whereabouts were unknown.

Over the last couple of months, I had been introducing one of my nephews to scuba diving, and we were planning a weekend dive trip to Lake Tahoe, on the California-Nevada border. My niece wanted to come with us, and we agreed. She wasn’t into diving or even much into swimming, but she had a sense of adventure. My niece asked if Trina could come along. I was agreeable, but doubted that her mom would agree. If I had had a 12-year-old daughter, I certainly would not have allowed her to accompany a single 23-year-old man that I didn’t know. But, her mom signed a permission slip, and Trina went with us.

The trip was great. We had arranged for a cabin at a Christian retreat center that my sister knew, in the woods at the north end of the lake. During the day my nephew and I practiced the basics of diving, while the girls sat on the shore watching and talking. In the evenings, we piled into a cabin, I cooked simple dinners, made a fire in the cabin’s iron stove, and we all slept very soundly. Her initial formality faded away, and Trina blended in completely, like a member of the family.

After the trip, life got back to normal, and time passed too quickly. A year or two later, I saw Trina at the local livestock fair. She tearfully told me how her mom had died of a heart attack, and she was living with some relative. I could tell that she needed stability and comfort, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do.

I was trying to handle a demanding job, finish college, and then move to another part of the state. My own life wasn’t that stable either.

A couple of years after that, I learned from my niece that Trina had died. She had gotten in with a bad group of druggies, and had overdosed. Rumors said she had been intentionally killed by another group member.

A tragic waste of a good life. She had grace and manners beyond her upbringing.
She could have been someone great.

Rest in peace, Trina…

Trick? or Treat?

When I was a kid (Oh, no! That again!) Halloween was simply a time to dress outlandishly and share candy with the neighbors.

I say “share” because I was born during the Baby Boom, and kids were abundant. Here and there an older couple would pass out candy and get none of it back, but most kids making the rounds had parents at home handing it out while their kids collected it from the neighbors. Very egalitarian.

The predominant American culture then was Christian. Yes, there were other faiths and those of no faith, but most families in suburbia and small-town America were tacitly Christian. Not in-your-face right-wing extremists protesting abortion, pornography, and gay marriage, but quiet households where June Cleaver would be right at home.

Witches, ghosts, and other symbols of supernatural evil were decorations or costumes for children. No one took them seriously because the culture had such a solid Christian foundation. The pagan roots of Halloween provided delightful – but not too scary – sources of entertainment for young and old.

Then, gradually, the culture became less Christian, and the harmless symbols of evil became more menacing. Not because Christians huddled in fear as the world became enlightened, but because the symbolic, imaginary evil became all-too-real in the daily news and everyday life. As a reaction, Christians shunned Halloween more and more, reacting to the popularization of institutional faithlessness.

And in doing so, they lost sight of a great truth: the Devil cannot stand being mocked.

The best way to de-energize evil symbols is to ridicule them. Make them caricatures for children and symbols of folly. So if we go back to the earlier, more casual use of Halloween as a fun festival for children and adults, we can affirm the victory over evil won for us by Jesus Christ, and demonstrate it to our children and the watching world around us.

And maybe have a little fun also!

The Female Badge of Courage

Recently on the internet, I saw an interesting photo; I saved it to show my sons.

It was of a nude middle-aged lady, in a pose which revealed the details of her genital area.

Her elongated vulva with its slightly-loose lips showed she had delivered at least one child, and the irregular protrusion near her anus was probably a hemorrhoid, which are a frequent result of pregnancy.
All these characteristics are part of the Female Badge of Courage

What’s that? Those are the physical indications of a woman’s body showing that she has had a child, or maybe several.

Why courage?

Because she didn’t have to conceive, gestate, and deliver a baby, but she did so, and it wasn’t easy or risk-free.
I want my sons to understand that these changes do not depreciate a woman’s body, but instead, they bear witness to her fulfilling that most-feminine of all activities: bringing a new life into the world.

None of us would exist if it weren’t for this process.

Someday they may each marry some sweet young lady with a short, tight vulva, no hemorrhoids, and no stretch marks, and she may have children by them.

If so, I want them to respect and honor her body-changes, instead of thinking that she’s lost her beauty.
Nothing else is quite as beautiful as a woman who chooses to become a mother.

Does Anyone Speak English Anymore?

 

I’m going to sound like an old-maid schoolteacher here.

(I have been a schoolteacher, but never an old maid!)

Hopefully the axes I grind will prove helpful to some…

 

Our use of American English has deteriorated, and continues to do so.

You may say “Who cares?”, but you should care.
When our language becomes imprecise, our thoughts become imprecise.

This last point is somewhat academic, since kids are increasingly taught what to think, rather than how to think.

 

 

Here are a few common but shameful examples; there are many more:

 

correct meanings:

nauseated (feeling sick, like you may vomit)

nauseous (making others feel sick, like they may vomit)

typical use: “I took that medicine and it made me nauseous”
Really? the medicine caused you to nauseate the people around you?

 

 

After generations of sex education, why haven’t kids (and adults) learned the basic vocabulary of anatomy?

 

Ladies first:

 

correct meanings:

vulva (the external female genitals)

vagina (the internal passage connecting the vulva to the cervix)

 

We don’t want to forget the guys:

 

correct meanings:

prostate (a male sex gland)

prostrate (lying flat and facedown)

 

And finally, for those who might be undecided:

 

correct meanings:

transvestite (someone who wears clothes of the opposite sex)

transsexual (someone who has had their body altered to resemble the opposite sex)

 

Yes, I know “transgender” is the politically-correct term, and “transsexual” is not;

I don’t use politically-correct terms, especially when they’re wrong.

“gender” refers to attributes of a language (“he” or “she”);
“sex” describes a person’s anatomy (“male” or “female”)

(And yes, I know about the supposed difference between their anatomy and their mindset. More political correctness.)

 

 

Here’s another deterioration of the language; omitting the final letter on some words:

 

bath bathe  (When you take a bath, you bathe)

 

breath breathe  (When you take a breath, you breathe)

 

cloth clothe
cloths clothes
(When you wear cloth, you clothe yourself, because clothes are made of cloth)

 

I increasingly see phrases like “I bath my children every day” or “it’s easier to breath in rural areas” !

 

What is this trend of omitting the final “e”?
Is that the influence of some foreign language? Or is it just ignorance?
It confuses nouns with verbs, and serves no useful purpose.

 

 

While languages evolve and change over time, and evolution ultimately results in improvements, it also produces defects which are eventually weeded out;

We need to do some serious weeding.

 

Protection From Perverts, Or Paradise Lost?

 

Back in the early 1960s, a now-famous billboard & print ad featured a playful dog pulling down the swimsuit of a surprised girl, revealing how her dark tan contrasted with her white untanned butt. This iconic Coppertone ad initially got people’s attention for being cute, with little or no concern about the semi-nudity it portrayed. Children were considered to be sexless, and therefore innocent.

This Coppertone ad also had only a swimsuit bottom, with no top covering the girl’s nipples. Of course, at that time, real girls often wore no tops covering their nipples, since their chests looked identical to the boys.

In the town where I grew up, the beach had a couple of cold-water showers in the sand, right next to the street. It wasn’t unusual for parents to remove their kid’s swimsuits and shower the kids off, then dry and dress the kid for the trip home.

But as the 1960s became the 1980s, our society became increasingly aware of how prevalent child sexual abuse really was. Like many other societal problems, it had festered below the surface, seldom mentioned by those in “polite society”, even by the many affected by it. This awareness prompted several reactions, not all of them reasonable or appropriate.

For a brief time, photos which included children’s genitals were illegal, although many family albums have such photos.

Parents sometimes had their photos withheld by processors and found themselves being interviewed (or worse) by the police for taking innocent nude photos of their own kids.

Photos on bags of disposable diapers for girls had the girl-baby’s nipples airbrushed away, while the boy-baby’s nipples remained intact on the diaper bag.

Beaches and other swimming areas where toddlers often ran around nude saw fewer nude children, and more swimsuits covering little girl’s chests.

Shows like America’s Funniest Home Videos began pixelating the genital and anal areas of young children, which was not done when the shows began.

Has this “modesty” campaign reduced the incidence of child molestation and sexual abuse in the U.S.?

A few years ago Coppertone re-introduced its classic ad, but now the girl is wearing a swimsuit-bottom and a shirt, and the dog is pulling up the shirt-tail. Is public morality enhanced by this new design?

Reducing everyone and everything to the lowest common denominator doesn’t protect anyone from perverts, it just extinguishes the last remnants of paradise.