Saturday was the annual World Naked
Gardening Day and once again I did not participate.
You are welcome.
Believe me folks, nobody would want to
see that.
In fact, the last time I saw my doctor
for a physical, he wore a blindfold.
I am not sure why Naked Gardening Day
was created, but it was.
Perhaps an exhibitionist was prancing
around the yard in the buff and when the authorities showed up, the
quick-thinking nudist made up Naked Gardening Day on the spot and an
annual tradition was born.
The funny thing is, every article I saw
and every picture promoting the event featured some really good
looking people – with their naughty bits appropriately covered of
course.
The women are gorgeous and the men are
buff. Who wouldn't want to see them naked?
I am neither gorgeous nor buff.
Small children would run away
screaming, people would be gouging their eyes out with sticks and the
very plants I was trying to nurture would shrivel up and die at the
sight of my naked, flabby, furry body toiling the land.
Perhaps if I looked like one of the
muscle-bound garden studs in the promo pictures I would consider it,
but the only six pack I have is in the fridge.
I do have ab muscles, but they are
safely secured under a layer of flab which makes them look more like
a keg than a six pack.
For me, naked anything day is just a
bad idea.
Nude beach – if I was there it would
be more like empty beach.
“But, the human body is beautiful in
all its forms.”
No it isn't, and I could provide a
couple selfies that prove it.
People of all kind are beautiful
because beauty comes from the inside, but not all human bodies are
beautiful.
There was a time when I looked pretty
good running around naked and I must admit I enjoyed doing so, but
what two year old doesn't.
Father Time has been slapping me around
for several decades now and he brought Uncle Flab and Cousin Hair
Loss with him.
I am sure Naked Gardening Day was
started as a lark, likely by college students who are still in good
enough shape to pull something like that off.
The social media ads for it reminded me
of a beer commercial where all of these gorgeous people run around in
bikini tops frolicking in the sun while the men's rippling muscles
shine like a knight's coat of armor.
Where is the fat, unshaven, loud guy?
Where's the obnoxious drunk guy who
knows he looks like one of those naked gardeners and proceeds to hit
on every female within a 50 kilometre radius?
I know they are out there because I
have seen them.
I have attended my share of gatherings
where adult recreational beverages were consumed and the
not-so-good-looking people (I'm not mentioning any names here) far
outweighed the gorgeous people.
Hmm, perhaps the gorgeous people were
avoiding the marginally good looking people, and there really is a
party where everyone looks like a super model.
Odd that I have never been to one of
those parties. My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail
(that's my excuse and I'm sticking too it.)
To tell the truth, I really do look
like a movie star. Sure, the star is Alfred Hitchcock, but he is
still a star so I will take it.
Besides, beauty comes from the inside
so on the outside I may be bald and flabby, but on the inside I'm a
super model.
Copyright 2016, Darren Handschuh
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