The Rules of Nudity

I thought I knew them, these rules of nudity.  Taking your clothes off at the gym is a necessary evil.  How else would you get into your workout gear?  But there's a certain way to do it.  First, find the least crowded corner of the locker room, so you'll have room to operate.  Next, change quickly, so that your nudity (or near-nudity) is short-lived.  Finally, make eye contact with no one.  These are the rules... or am I wrong?

Old men don't seem to honor these rules at all.  Every gym I've ever belonged to has a pack of guys, 60+, walking around, talking to each other, slapping each other on the back to punctuate a particularly hilarious joke, all while completely naked.  They don't seem to mind the proximity to each others' genitals, or the obvious discomfort among the younger guys.

Now before you go thinking I'm homophobic or something, hear me out, I've been thinking about this.  In everyday life, I am absolutely not homophobic; my moral code doesn't change simply because I'm in a locker room.  I think what it boils down to is the breakdown of personal space and privacy.  The casual nudity these men embrace forces their exceptionally unattractive naked bodies into my field of vision, making my experience in the locker room less enjoyable.  I guess that I want them to feel the same sense of what? Shame, Dignity? that I feel, along with most younger guys. 

So to recap.... I'm not a homophobe, I'm a prude. 

I bring this whole topic up because on Thursday, something unusual happened.  I first noticed the naked man when I walked into the locker room.  About 65, mostly bald, short, plump, Asian, and completely nude, he was fastidiously combing what was left of his hair in a full-length mirror.  Following protocol, I went to the far corner of the locker room to find my cubby.  As I was removing my jeans, Nudey Von Mirror walks up to me, and in barely decipherable English says something to the effect of, "Excuse me, my locker is behind you."  I moved about three feet on the bench, as much room as I could give while still able to reach into my locker.  He then said some sort of hello, the particulars of which I couldn't really understand.  I dumbly smiled at him .

During this exchange I'm sitting down, putting on my socks and ankle brace, preparing to go shoot hoops.  The man is standing before me, having made no progress toward clothing himself, even though he'd been standing in front of his open locker for a good minute.  He again addresses me, and this time I can make out the phrase "I got some good news."  Pleased with myself for understanding what he said, I smiled and responded with a friendly "oh yeah?."  He then launched into a spiel about eternal life, feeling no pain, how lucky I am.  It hit me suddenly and hard: he's trying to convert me to Christianity.  AND HE'S STILL FUCKING NAKED.

I tersely interrupted with, "I really don't want to hear that."  I wanted to tell him how rude I thought he was, for both proselytizing to me, and for waving his genitals in my face while he did it.  Both of these actions offends my inherent prudishness.  I always find it offensive when people try to convert me, whether it's at my doorstep or on the street.  I don't go up to them to explain why I disagree with their religious or political positions, and yet, they don't seem to have a problem explaining to me why my most deeply held beliefs are wrong. 

Anyway, back to the locker room.  After our little conversation, we still had to sit there and finish our business (although he still hadn't even started his).  Since he was standing in front of my locker, which was on the bottom, I kept having to reach over to pull items out to get dressed.  He was still nude, and wouldn't move, even when I would say "excuse me."  I ended up having to put my face about six inches from his naked crotch just to grab my shoes.  I turned my head away from his groin, but it was still uncomfortable.  I think the Christian thing to do would have been to at least take a step back, or gee, I don't know, cover up?  Isn't shame a major part of that religion?

As if he could read my thoughts, the naked man finally turned his groin away from me as he began to preach at another nearby clothes-changer.  Finally!  No more crotch in my face.  Instead, ass.  Much better.

I think we can all agree on one thing here: it's okay to believe whatever it is you believe, but you should keep it to yourself unless someone asks.  Oh wait, there's one more thing we can all agree on: if you absolutely must try to convert someone to your belief system, you should at least put on pants first.

I give locker room nudity one shriveled penis, and locker room conversions the stink eye.

Music!

You may have noticed the new music player on the right-hand side of the screen.  I am pleased to stream songs from the album I'm working on, tenatively titled "Robot Orgy."  Take a listen, and please feel free to submit any feedback you may have!

The Mystery of the Missing Lock

I am attempting to solve a mystery, with few clues to to go by. Let me set the scene of the crime: Tuesday night at the Mall 205 24-Hour Fitness, from 6:30-9:30pm. I arrived at the gym to play basketball, since my regular Tuesday night game was cancelled. Midge was having a group of her girlfriends over to make Christmas wreaths, so I kind of needed to get out of the house. Anyway...

I get to the gym and put my jacket, hat, and gym bag in a locker inside the men's locker room. Inside my gym bag: wallet, keys, cell phone. My lock doesn't use numbers; it is a word lock, with a secret password. It's easier to remember than a random number. With these kind of locks, you must have the password in place in order to close it up, so you must be very conscientious about lining the letters up in order to lock it. I say this because I am quite confident I correctly sealed the locker. I then went to the basketball court for the next three hours, attempting to keep up with the teenagers.

When I returned to the locker room, I started to have a mini-freakout, because my lock was gone. I frantically opened the locker, only to discover all of my belongings exactly where I placed them (or at least they seemed to be). There was no sign of my lock whatsoever. I sorted through my wallet to make sure all of my credit cards were in place, and they were. Next, I went to the front desk and explained what happened. I don't know if they exactly believed me, although they were polite. No one had turned in a lock, either.

Now I need to figure out what happened. How was my lock removed from the locker? Did someone watch me set the code? Does someone have a secret method of opening locks? Did I make a mistake and leave it unlocked? Why didn't they take my stuff? There was cash and credit cards in my wallet, and they could have stolen my phone, or even my car. I wish that there was security camera footage of the locker room, and that I had access to it.

I give this whole experience one big question mark.

Final Novembeard Update

After a month of growing and scratching, Novembeard is finally complete. I am somewhat pleased with the results, although I'm not sure if I will keep the beard after today. Surprisingly, Marisa is somewhat okay with the facial hair, as long as I shave the mustache. So now it's really up to me. I'm sure that I will at least trim the weirdo long hairs that have cropped up, but I don't know what to do with the rest of it. Suggestions?

Novembeard Update + Double Yolk!

It's week 3 now of Novembeard, the annual beard growing event between me and my friends. I'm getting pretty bushy now. I realize when I see these pictures how much I resemble a homeless person. I feel terrible for my wife. She's so nice to put up with all this silliness. Alright, here are the pictures:

November 20 - The neck swirl is really becoming noticable






November 13 - I need a shave and haircut badly



November 6th - I am ugly




October 31st - the last day I shaved






Okay, now that we're done with all that ridiculousness, here's the really important news. This morning, as I was preparing my delicious and nutritious breakfast, I was given a rare treat: a double-yolked egg! I've never seen one before, but have always wanted one since I first heard about them in the movie "Chicken Run". Take a look:


Yowza! I give this whole beard thing one hearty scratch, and the egg six clucks up!

Novembeard and Halloween

As has been the tradition for my friends and I the last few years, I am again participating in Novembeard, the purpose of which should be fairly obvious: to grow the biggest beard you can during the month of November. I usually grow it pretty thickly on my neck and jaw, but not so well on my cheeks and upper lip. I'm also going to be shaving my mustache this year, so as to keep the wife happy. I'm a bit late in posting pictures, but better late than nothing.

October 31st - The last day I shaved

November 6th - I am ugly

Obviously, the first two pictures were taken on Halloween, when we went out. I was originally planning on going as a Mexican wrestler, wearing the muscle suit I got couple of years ago and my Mexican wrestler mask. Below is a look at the devil costume I wore instead. The mask is something I got in Peru this year, and is meant to represent the devilish Spanish.

100th Post! Pumpkins Galore!

This is my 100th blog posting, hurray!

Now on to business. Midge and I went to the old pumpkin patch last week out on Sauvie Island and picked up 3 prime pumpkins. We went late, as one of us has a job and everything. But we caught the last hay ride out to the patch, so we got to choose our own out in the field. We selected two with gnarly vines on top, and as we were leaving, we spotted one that was shaped exactly like a skull, so we figured it was a sign that we needed to carve a skull pumpkin, as well.

Ooh... spooky...

2 of the Pumpkins...

Picking out Pumpkins...

The last hayride to pumpkin town.

Then, on Saturday, we had our annual pumpkin carving party. It was much smaller than in years past, mostly because we waited too long to put it together. Still, we had 8 or so people come over to mutilate some pumpkins and eat my homemade chili. It was a lot of fun, and we made some good ones.

These are our jack-o-lanterns in the dark...

And these are with the flash on, so you can see the shape of the pumpkins. Take note of the skull pumpkin on the bottom-right-hand corner.

Overall, I give this pumpkin-carving experience ten flaming pumpkins!