Gee, I'm blogging like a maniac this weekend.
Equal parts boredom and alcohol.
Ever have those odd childhood flashbacks?
Memories that are so old that they're simply part of your history.
Then at some point in your adult life you stop to really think about them?
Memories that make you actually say out loud 'what the fucking fuck?'
I encountered such a memory a few days ago.
This memory starts with my mother taking my younger sister and I to visit our grandparents.
They had recently moved.
Moved into a nudist retirement village.
Yep.
You heard right.
I was maybe 7, she was 5.
Oooh, I thank the universe everyday that neither my grandparents were naked for these visits.
I remember loads of pretty bushland and wind chimes.
My grandparents showed us around their cottage and it was really cool.
But being little kids we quickly got bored.
Can we go play? Pleeeeeease?
My Grandma told us there was a trampoline just up the pathway.
Yay! We ran the whole way and it was worth it.
This trampoline was fucking olympic size.
I shit you not.
I know we were little but it had to be at least 10m by 4m.
I could run, flip, run, flip, run and fucking well flip again.
We never wanted to leave.
But then came the saggy tits and old floppy dicks.
All of a sudden we were surrounded.
All the pathways clogged with drooping skin.
We ran back to our mum shocked at what we had seen.
You see, we weren't told that where we were going was full of nudists.
All that we know was that Poppy and Granny lived here and that was it.
It's got worse.
After lunch came the swimming pool.
Once again it was really big.
Thankfully so.
We were up one end and a bunch of elderly naked folks up the other.
Sharing the same water as dementia.
Why they had to repeatedly get in and out of the pool is beyond me.
Why, why, why?
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not against nudity or anything.
Though I can't say I could ever see myself living in a nudist colony.
At best these days, I'm the late night skinny dipping at the beach type.
But nude all the time...
>cooking nude, sitting around a fire nude, cleaning nude, collecting my mail nude<
... is bit out of my comfort zone.
Though some people pull it off rather well I must say.
I look at my Gran now at the ripe old age of 82,
in her floral blouse and her extreme vague awareness of all around her
and it's hard to believe my memory is true.
If I hadn't been there to witness it with my own eyes
I probably wouldn't even believe it.
Ever have those odd childhood flashbacks?
Memories that are so old that they're simply part of your history.
Then at some point in your adult life you stop to really think about them?
Memories that make you actually say out loud 'what the fucking fuck?'
I encountered such a memory a few days ago.
This memory starts with my mother taking my younger sister and I to visit our grandparents.
They had recently moved.
Moved into a nudist retirement village.
Yep.
You heard right.
I was maybe 7, she was 5.
Oooh, I thank the universe everyday that neither my grandparents were naked for these visits.
I remember loads of pretty bushland and wind chimes.
My grandparents showed us around their cottage and it was really cool.
But being little kids we quickly got bored.
Can we go play? Pleeeeeease?
My Grandma told us there was a trampoline just up the pathway.
Yay! We ran the whole way and it was worth it.
This trampoline was fucking olympic size.
I shit you not.
I know we were little but it had to be at least 10m by 4m.
I could run, flip, run, flip, run and fucking well flip again.
We never wanted to leave.
But then came the saggy tits and old floppy dicks.
All of a sudden we were surrounded.
All the pathways clogged with drooping skin.
We ran back to our mum shocked at what we had seen.
You see, we weren't told that where we were going was full of nudists.
All that we know was that Poppy and Granny lived here and that was it.
It's got worse.
After lunch came the swimming pool.
Once again it was really big.
Thankfully so.
We were up one end and a bunch of elderly naked folks up the other.
Sharing the same water as dementia.
Why they had to repeatedly get in and out of the pool is beyond me.
Why, why, why?
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not against nudity or anything.
Though I can't say I could ever see myself living in a nudist colony.
At best these days, I'm the late night skinny dipping at the beach type.
But nude all the time...
>cooking nude, sitting around a fire nude, cleaning nude, collecting my mail nude<
... is bit out of my comfort zone.
Though some people pull it off rather well I must say.
Good for them.
Nudity can also result in some pretty cool art.
The most alarming aspect of this memory is the giant trampoline.
Why so big?
More importantly why did a nudist retirement village require a trampoline at all?
Surely with all those fragile hips it was a hazard.
I can just picture all those loose bodies jumping up and down in slow motion.
At least I hope that all the trampoline was used for.
Only at age 28, have I suddenly recognised this memory as slightly unusual.Why so big?
More importantly why did a nudist retirement village require a trampoline at all?
Surely with all those fragile hips it was a hazard.
I can just picture all those loose bodies jumping up and down in slow motion.
At least I hope that all the trampoline was used for.
I look at my Gran now at the ripe old age of 82,
in her floral blouse and her extreme vague awareness of all around her
and it's hard to believe my memory is true.
If I hadn't been there to witness it with my own eyes
I probably wouldn't even believe it.
This is hilarious. And disturbing. I can't believe I have never heard this memory...you must have been suppressing it down very far in that precious head of yours, for obvious reasons. And thank-you for painting that very vivid picture of old people on gym equipment, something most people will only ever see in their nightmares...haha lucky you.
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