Notes From A Nudist Camp

So the poll closed with Ann Coulter and Dick Cheney in a tie for Biggest Douchebag. In the event of a tie, I cast the deciding vote for who will win the "Douchey." But I find myself unable to choose at this point. Inititially, Dick Cheney had my vote just because he actually has the power to get things done; horrible, stupid, nasty things. On the other hand, Ann Coulter is just...wow. I'll vote later, right now it's on to nudism.

This past weekend my girlfriend and I went to a nudist campground in Western Massachusetts, which you may know if you read my little bloggie. It was our first time, as a couple and as individuals, and naturally there was a great deal of reticence. Many of our friends had difficulty understanding the appeal of such an endeavor. It's very simple, really. If you like camping and swimming, there was that. I figured that nudists would be especially inclined to accept people regardless of appearance, and I was right. Linda and I enjoyed swimming and relaxing on the beach in a way that would have been impossible (at least for me) had I been wearing a bathing suit. It's ironic that a fellow who despises his body would find solace hangin' with the nudies, but simply put that is exactly what happened. Naturally, it was hard at first (ha!) but after a very short time (a couple of minutes of exposure) we both relaxed and it turned into a fantastic experience. No point in worrying about how you look when you're buck naked, so you might as well enjoy the cool water, the hot sun and the welcome warmth of the fire pit.

If I had a choice right now to go swimming at a "normal" beach and swimming naked with other naked people I'd have to go with naked. Actually, it's not even close. So am I a "nudist" now? Should I put that in with atheist, socialist, meta-ethical relativist and existential nihilist? Probably not, just because I don't have the money to recreate and rusticate very often, not that it's any more expensive than any other campground. But I definitely wouldn't mind being called a "nudist" and Linda and I plan on going again. So there you go. I recommend it highly.

Last night I couldn't sleep for some reason but as I tried to sleep I thought about this past weekend. I took a little itinerary of all the things I hate about my body; man boobs, loose skin, short legs, surgical scar and lack of balls. The lack of balls isn't really visible unless you really focus on my package, but it bothers me for other reasons (a barren, sterile existence that ends when I die). So it's fair to say that there was something cathartic about the whole nude experience, and it was profound enough that it may even lead to a modicum of peace with myself over my appearance.

And bathing in the communal, open shower was a wild ride. The hot water in that cold, morning air felt so damn good. Another observation that I feel compelled to relate is that nudists are insanely friendly people. I'm sure they could tell by our alabaster white asses that we were new to the whole experience. My ancestry is Scottish, and Linda's is English, and we looked it. Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of my beloved and become a little aroused, but not much more than it happens when we have clothes on. Sexual tension is just not an issue...it's a campground. I was at least as inclined to make a s'more or try to identify the tiny toads that hopped around our feet as I was to want to fuck. I understand that a few places fuse the nudist crowd with the swinging crowd, but generally speaking (from my research and this experience) it is two very different scenes.

A doctor we talked to has a package that looked like Jimmy Durante in profile; he had a fabulous penis for nudity. My penis retreated like a frightened turtle, which didn't bother me one bit. It never hides when I need it, and I didn't really need it for swimming or chilling by the fire. Generally speaking, people don't look all that great nude. I'll take nude over sweat pants or a Speedo. It literally just takes a few minutes to get over the strangeness of being (and seeing other people) nude out in the open. There's a sort of social contract about seeking acceptance and asking to be treated with respect. It's rather moving to surrender to complete strangers about something that is so personal, with such emotional currency, as seeking body acceptance.