March 12, 2008

• I'm Naked On Xanga: A Wayback Post from 2006

  I'm Naked On Xanga: A Wayback Post from 2006: Actually, I've still got my glasses on, so I'm not "totally naked". One Xangan who constantly gets hundreds of comments every single entry once told me that a sure fire way to make "featured content", or to have my post "featured' on the main page of Xanga, was to "post naked" and that was sure to give an entry "feautred content" status. Well, since I have no shame, and since "bravery" is my middle name, I thought I'd illustrate the following "reminiscence" with a photo of what I looked like when I ventured to the "Sun Club" described in the story. I'm a bit older, but I'm still pretty much "in shape", except for the beer gut. Always bending the rules, just to see what happens. Possible "flags" will be listed below the article. Enjoy. MFN

  A Weekend With "Bruce the Nudist"

   A "naked reminiscence" by Michael F. Nyiri

  
  "Nudism is such a worthy cause. We must bring the message to the people. We must teach them to unmask their poor suffocating bodies and let them breathe again. Clothes are the enemy. Without clothes, there would be no sickness, there'd be no war. I ask you sir: Can you imagine two great armies on the battlefield, no uniforms, completely nude? No way of telling friend from foe, all brothers together." Doro Merande as the Health Food Restaurant Waitress to Tom Ewell in "The Seven Year Itch" (1955)

  I like to wear as few clothes as possible. I've always been like this, preferring to walk around my home in the buff when it's hot, (with the curtains drawn, naturally, and when Joel isn't around) and I don't think I've worn "pajamas" to bed since 1969. I don't find anything wrong with the human body, and I rarely get flummoxed over seeing a "bit of skin". I'm a "red blooded" boy when it comes to healthy expressions of nonsexual nudity, and I'm pretty brave. Co-ed bathing at pool parties finds me doffing my shorts with no afterthought. I don't have a particularly "muscular" body, in fact, as I age, the "beer belly" gets bigger and bigger, but I'm just not ashamed of how I look in the buff. I really think nobody should be. We weren't born with  swaddling clothes, after all. We were born in our wrinkly skin. As we age, it gets wrinkly again, but back in 1981 when I met "Bruce the Nudist", I was only in my late 20s, and though I drank lots of it, the beer belly hadn't appeared yet. I still had some of my hair left, and I stayed in shape. Never one to pass up an opportunity of any kind, I struck up a friendship with Bruce, who was the warehouse security guard at FedMart in Long Beach, CA, where I was one of the management staff. Everybody knew Bruce, a youngish 40, with John Lennon specs and a winning smile. Bruce practiced nudity at a "sun club" or nudist camp, during the weekends. Everybody at work, guys and gals, were solicited by Bruce at one time or another for a "weekend at the club". Most people turned him down. I'm not that prudish, however, and when he invited me for a "weekend at the club" I only asked him what time he was going to pick me up.
  

  Truth be told, during the three days prior to the actual weekend, I did feel a bit strange. What if I "popped a boner" at an inappropriate time? Bruce always liked to say "It's not hard on a nudist". Meaning, a male member of the club should never "come to attention". It was a "hard and fast" rule that erections were frowned upon by the sun loving populace.
  My adventure began inauspiciously. I didn't really pal around with a lot of the guys at work socially, because I was in upper management, and off hours I palled around with Jim, my "godfather" who was the store manager and a friend. I had given Bruce directions to my apartment, and I was able to pack light. Besides the clothes I would wear in the car on the way to the club, I only packed another change of clothes for when I was to return. During the weekend, I wouldn't need anything except my toothbrush. Shoes were worn on rocky trails, etc, but mostly, I would be wearing my birthday suit. Bruce picked my up on Saturday morning for a drive to the San Clemente area, in Orange County, up in the hills above Pacific Coast Highway. He had never been to my place, but he found it quite easily, and before long we were on the road, and I was asking a lot of questions, most of which were answered simply with: "Wait till we get there".
  

  The Sun Club was "off the beaten track", up in the hills, sort of like a campground. We were to stay in Bruce's girlfriend's trailer. Most of the members of the club had RVs or mobile homes on the grounds. Driving into the camp, we registered, and I paid a small fee as a "first time visitor". One rule for first time visitors was that once inside the camp, we were not allowed to leave until after the weekend was over. One of the main reasons I never joined the club, besides the fact that the membership price was quite prohibitive even back in the early 80s, was that there were lots of "rules and regulations", and I was a bit of a bohemian, even though I was in retail management, back in those days.

  
  Upon hearing the gates close behind us, and on the way to the large parking lot where most of the trailers were parked, I almost felt as if I were going to prison, for scant moments, until I started to see naked people all over the place.
  There were old men, vivacious women, fifteen year old girls with budding breasts straining to grow larger. There was an old coot who explained the wart on his penis, yanking on it so I could get a better look. Bruce's girlfriend was a stunning knockout, and I struggled "hard" not to get that way when we met, and I shook her hand, as her grandiose melons shook a bit as well.

  
  There was a "civic center", a pool, onsite living facilities for the founders and "old timers". I enjoyed vigorous games of shuffleboard and volleyball. Yes, there was lots of jiggling in the volleyball game. We had naked cookouts, and campfires. The weekend went relatively quickly. I made a lot of instant friendships, and I asked Bruce somewhat shyly about the sexual aspect of the place. It seems that a lot of "nudists" or "sun worshippers" at least in those days, were swingers as well. At night, "behind the closed doors' of the houses and the trailers, a lot of hanky panky was going on, but since I was a "naked virgin" I wasn't given a peephole into that part of the experience. If I would have paid the membership fee and came back a second time or more, those avenues of pleasure would have "opened up" for me. On Sunday morning, for example, after waking up in a cot in Bruce's girlfriend's trailer, I couldn't help but notice that they were making love.

  
  That weekend I had lots of fun. This retreat happened during one of our California summers, and the weather was quite nice. After a while, I didn't miss my clothes at all. As I stated earlier, I like walking around naked anyway, so I felt quite at home in the "sun club".

  
  Nudists like to regale newbies with stories of their open lifestyles, and I got quite an earful. Sometimes I even regret the fact that I couldn't afford the membership fees, which were about a thousand dollars a year or thereabouts, so that I could go back again and again.

  
  Truly, these folks were free and easy, and their camaraderie and helpfulness was refreshing and "nakedly" honest.
  I only spent that one weekend with Bruce the Nudist, but I treasure the memories of walking around in nature as God intended for us, before the fall from Grace. After the experience, Bruce could get me giggling with just a look or a well suggested double entendre.

  
  Today, I still like to shed as much clothing as possible, and in the photo above, you see me as God intended, in good humor, and without the restriction of clothing (except for my glasses, and I need them to see, of course)
  I wonder, would anyone agree to go spend a weekend with Bruce the Nudist if he asked you? I did, and I'm glad I did to this day.

  Possible "flags" in this article: Malicious Impersonation: I'm impersonating me, as I have always done. Adult Content: I am adult, and this is content. I don't think the pose is any less "titillating" than a photo of me in a bathing suit or shorts, and for all you know, I am wearing shorts, and airbrushed them out, since I do a lot of photoshopping my images. Underaged Nudity: I'm 54. I still feel like a kid, but I don't think this qualifies. Advocating Self Harm: If one of our cats were to jump in my lap at an inappropriate time, then I could be scratched pretty badly. Too Much Personal Info: Definitely too much information. But it's in fun, folks! I think that about covers it. Or uncovers it, as the case may be. Now that I'm finished with this post, do I hit "delete" or do I hit "Save Changes." Well, as I said , I'm brave and have no shame, so let's see what kind of comments if any I get with the "Naked on Xanga" post. MFN, out on a limb, without any clothes.

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  EDIT: 5:15pm pdt. I want to give a shout out to Norimoto (Amandasbiggestfan) for supplying a link on your latest top five featured blog entry to mine. Also to Emily (BoureeMusique) for "featuring" this entry on your latest blog post. You guys are great internet friends and I'm overwhelmed with thanks. MFN/ppf

  • 2:05 pm
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