The Idea of Nekkid Happy Fun Time
Ok so in just a few hours I shake the old folks from their slumber and boot em out the door. They are of to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Idaho. (Ok maybe they are off to see my aunt who has a pretty nice place up in the mountains, but how can one resist using a wizard of oz reference. Really). Then it is just me and the cats for almost two weeks.
If I were a teenager, I would almost be obligated to try and through some sort of party. Why teenagers think they can get away with this, I have no idea. I call it hormone stupidity. Neighbors can tell a party when they see one. A teenage (or a twenty something) party always involves either somebody getting drunk and breaking an object of value, somebody getting drunk and regurgitating all over the upholstery, somebody getting drunk and playing hide the empty bottles in places that wont be noticed until they are truly ripe with the smell of stale beer, and last but not least the police showing up. My theory was if I was going to be caught by the police it was better to be at someone else's place. (Until I turned 21 and realized I wanted absolutely nothing to do with being anywhere near alcohol and people under the age of 21).
As a man of thirty one (closing in on 32) my expectations for the upcoming weeks are different. Liquor will not be involved. Sure we have enough booze here where I could probably spend the next couple weeks well and truly loaded to the gills (not much of a tolerance these days. It doesn't take much), the idea of a hangover ( and the shame attached to memories of past hangovers) is more than I'm willing to deal with. Well that and I've never been one to drink by myself. It is so boring.
I could lie and say it will be weeks of womanizing. The truth is that the scare tactics that they called sex education of the 80's and 90s just makes the thought of having sex with some random stranger, even with five layers of latex and coated in antibacterial soap, is enough to make my package crawl up inside and hide for a week or two. I swear, back in the day, it was like just looking at another person might give you the crabs, brushing up against em was instant syphilis and god forbid you start swapping spit for the doom of AIDS was upon you. It wasn't an education so much as some scary fortune teller crying out, "You Gonna DIE!"
So this leaves me with the last option. Nekkid Time. If I so choose, for the next couple weeks, I could prance about the place without a stitch of close and no one would say a word about it. I lounge in front of the TV picking lint out of my belly button and it would be OK. I can even walk around in my bikini briefs without fear that someone might make fun of em and call em "manties."
Not that this will even happen. It has been cold in Chicago off and on. I'll probably spend the vast majority of my time bundled up in sweat pants and a nice soft fleece hoody. Still I will be happy with the Idea that I could be nekkid at any time. It is a level of freedom I don't experience every day.
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If I were a teenager, I would almost be obligated to try and through some sort of party. Why teenagers think they can get away with this, I have no idea. I call it hormone stupidity. Neighbors can tell a party when they see one. A teenage (or a twenty something) party always involves either somebody getting drunk and breaking an object of value, somebody getting drunk and regurgitating all over the upholstery, somebody getting drunk and playing hide the empty bottles in places that wont be noticed until they are truly ripe with the smell of stale beer, and last but not least the police showing up. My theory was if I was going to be caught by the police it was better to be at someone else's place. (Until I turned 21 and realized I wanted absolutely nothing to do with being anywhere near alcohol and people under the age of 21).
As a man of thirty one (closing in on 32) my expectations for the upcoming weeks are different. Liquor will not be involved. Sure we have enough booze here where I could probably spend the next couple weeks well and truly loaded to the gills (not much of a tolerance these days. It doesn't take much), the idea of a hangover ( and the shame attached to memories of past hangovers) is more than I'm willing to deal with. Well that and I've never been one to drink by myself. It is so boring.
I could lie and say it will be weeks of womanizing. The truth is that the scare tactics that they called sex education of the 80's and 90s just makes the thought of having sex with some random stranger, even with five layers of latex and coated in antibacterial soap, is enough to make my package crawl up inside and hide for a week or two. I swear, back in the day, it was like just looking at another person might give you the crabs, brushing up against em was instant syphilis and god forbid you start swapping spit for the doom of AIDS was upon you. It wasn't an education so much as some scary fortune teller crying out, "You Gonna DIE!"
So this leaves me with the last option. Nekkid Time. If I so choose, for the next couple weeks, I could prance about the place without a stitch of close and no one would say a word about it. I lounge in front of the TV picking lint out of my belly button and it would be OK. I can even walk around in my bikini briefs without fear that someone might make fun of em and call em "manties."
Not that this will even happen. It has been cold in Chicago off and on. I'll probably spend the vast majority of my time bundled up in sweat pants and a nice soft fleece hoody. Still I will be happy with the Idea that I could be nekkid at any time. It is a level of freedom I don't experience every day.
More Laters
posted by Rich Rosenthal II at 1:17 AM
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