Thursday night brought dear friends Hols and Christina over for dinner. I rustled up some steaks and my beans&taters dish and we had a grand time. After dinner, we sat out back by the chimenea telling stories by firelight and enjoying the fragrance of burning pinon. The across-the-alley neighbors' pet dustmops were outside yipping and my hellpups and C's Italian Greyhounds were running silently around the backyard. Finally, Christina chirped that we should toss something lethal over the fence and they shut up. Then we heard the neighbor lady yelling at her dogs. Then one of C's dogs decided would be a good moment to bark. Droll timing, Tucker! Good times. Thanks for coming over, ladies. :) Love ya!
I have no problem with noodism, and in peoples' own home-- well, why the hell not? In fact, I am completely nekkid right now even as I type this. [are you scandalized?] On the other paw, when you are nekkid at home and can clearly be seen by others outside your home, well, I have a problem with that, actually.
At the Trustafarian Incubator I managed in Dallas, there was one older fellow who moved into a loft with huge windows along the front and back space. The front of his apartment faced a walkway and people had no choice but to walk right past his place on the way to their own apartments, and I had more than one person tell me he was obviously quite pleased with his sixty-something physique, and wanted everyone to lookey-see how comfy he was to be nude in his own home. *shudder* Another resident told me he was walking around the property in shorty-shorts with his junk hanging out. Literally. She said there was twig-and-berry sign flapping in the wind. Oh, and he was a regular church-goer. Don't ask me what it all means. I'm still just as puzzled as I was then. I'll bet he has speedos in an array of fashion colors. Ick.
Anyway, this all came rushing back to me when I saw this article about the guy who was prosecuted for standing naked in his doorway where any passerby could see. By all means, be nude as you like, but have a sense of discretion about which occasion you put it all out there, yeah?
When we first moved to Texas, I was walking to school and rounded the corner to the back of the building when I heard a whistle. It was cold out, and I may have been running late. I remember there was no one else around. At the back of a house I'd just passed and about 45 yards away I saw one of the stars of the high school football team standing in his birthday suit at the back door of his house. I went quickly on to class, but I always sort of puzzled over that. How peculiar. I mean, this guy must have been high or drunk. I don't think it was meant as a come-on. Anyone who knows anything about me would know that if they messed with me, my dad would stomp a mudhole in their arse and then walk it dry. I'm not kidding. I didn't sense menace in it, just figured out to generally steer clear of that [natural] red-head. The coming year, I remember being one of the little tin soldiers in marching band and thinking how ironic it was that we played in support of a group that included such a dirtball. Ew. I rarely saw him at school and we never exchanged a word. I reckon I was just some anonymous girl he flashed, probably one of many.
So it felt a little strange to me late last year when he asked me to friend him on Facebook. Uh, Ignore, thank you very much.