Photo-of-the-Week #259 Reconnecting – Uncle Pete's House, Garfield, New Jersey, September 2013

I've decided to end this Photo-of-the-Week series at the five year mark. That will be at the 260^th post of weekly photos. This is #259. I have no particular reason for ending this series. I still have thousands of photos left and I'm always taking more. I simply feel like taking a break and coming up with something new. I'm thinking it may be video instead of still photos. Stay tuned and you'll be surprised as much as I may be with whatever I come up with. So, there is still one more photo in this series next week.

Yesterday, Saturday April 16, 2016, something occurred that hasn't occurred in more than 20 years. As a matter of fact, something occurred that probably hasn't occurred in possibly as many as about 50 years.

The 20 year marker was that my two younger sisters, Lois and Denise, and I met and spent several hours together. I've seen each of them during those 20 years. They've seen each other during those 20 years, however, the three of us hadn't been together at the same time and place over those years. My, how the years have flown and how we've changed (please note, I didn't use the word “aged”).

The 50 year marker was that we actually were together for about five hours and shared a meal together. Many people who read this will raise their eyebrows about both of these events. I'll not go into the details of our family, other than to say, there are a million stories in the “Naked City” and ours is one of them. Obviously, we are not a close knit family and, if you'd guess there were circumstances that precipitated the situation, you'd be right.

My sister Lois, four years younger than me, drove from her home, a town just a couple miles from where we all grew up in northern New Jersey. My sister Denise, eleven years younger than me, now lives in a small town in the Shenandoah Valley about 15 miles south of Winchester, Virginia. Winchester is where I made my home for about 26 years prior to taking on my nomadic lifestyle the end of 2008.

I drove to Winchester from the small town I use as my eastern base camp in West Virginia and met up with Denise. She rode with me to Hershey, Pennsylvania where Lois met us. Yes, the same Hershey as in Milton Hershey and the Hershey Chocolate Company. It was about a 2½ to 3 hour drive each way to that meeting point for all of us. Of course, I had close to an additional 2 hours each way from West Virginia to Winchester. My total time behind the wheel was about 9 hours.

It was cordial. And, as is typical, especially when you haven't shared any time together over long periods, there was a lot of reminiscing. We are in contact and there are no anger issues to speak of. Logistics is the main issue. Lots of memories of old people (friends and family), places and things. It's amazing how, as kids at different ages in our development, we recall certain things and not others. We also recall common memories quite differently sometimes. It was very cathartic.

This week's photo-of-the-week came to mind as I was sorting through a bunch of photos from my hometown area in New Jersey. I was motivated to look through this batch of photos by our meeting yesterday. The house on the right of these two family houses is my Uncle Pete's house. Uncle Pete has been dead for quite a few years. Admittedly, he wasn't necessarily my favorite uncle. My father was raised as an orphan from age 8 until he was 18. Uncle Pete's was my father's home for those 10 years.

As you look at the house you can see there is a basement, a first and second floor and an attic. My father and my uncle, his younger brother, grew up in the attic, which was, to the best of my knowledge, unheated. And, of course, as most attics are, it was also the hottest part of the house during the summer. Heat always rises and the sun beats down directly on the roof of the attic.

I don't recall if the last home my parents owned was air conditioned. It likely was not since none of our earlier homes were air conditioned, not even window air conditioners. I still remember how hot it could be during the summers even in the lower, insulated parts of the house. So, I can only imagine what my father's life was like while growing up.

Reminiscing is an excellent thing to do from time to time. I don't live in the past and I don't enjoy talking with people who live in the past. That was then and this is now. However, as my sisters and I did yesterday, reminiscing about our early years can really help us appreciate the life we live today. I surely do. How about you?

Live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #256 – Far From The Maddening Crowd. Sonoran Desert, Quartzsite, Arizona March 2015

Ah! Sweet memories. Just a little over a year ago, this was my location. I was staying on U.S. Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land in one tiny segment of the Sonoran Desert. In the distance, at night, you could see the lights from the small town of Quartzsite. Otherwise, this was a peaceful place in the middle of a lot of desert territory away from the congestion of larger towns and cities.

I wasn't actually alone. There were folks camping throughout this and other BLM territories all over this region of the country. In this area, there were five other folks in residency. There were four women and one other man. We each chose a small parcel of land and left enough space between each party to provide the privacy we each cherished. Yet, we were close enough that we could easily gather around a campfire at night and even share an occasional communal meal.

You could almost say we had our cake and could eat it, too. That's really a big part of this kind of alternative lifestyle. Each person had a different educational, occupational/professional and spiritual background. Each lived with different financial means. Each brought unique skill sets to the table and shared them as they might help another member of this ragtag, informal, unlikely crew. Different interests and different origins from different parts of the U.S. Yet, at this one time, drawn together for this short period to this small commune. And then . . . we'd scatter in different directions.

The rules were simple. Each to his own, except when invited or inviting to share time, resources, conversation, meals, humor, knowledge, wisdom and skills with one or more of the others. Each member of this spontaneous, temporary commune was self-sufficient and didn't require the others, but it was nice to have some social camaraderie.

The words commune, community and even communism all have their origin in the English, French and Latin words meaning common. Communes and communities are basically more social forms of groupings for certain common interests of those living within the social structure.

Communes are, by their nature, smaller groups of people, generally with reasonably close and common interests. They share the living experience and typically each contributes voluntarily to the group based on their talents and skills.

Communities are similar, but generally larger, usually more diverse and more structured. They typically have a much more defined hierarchy of leadership with more defined rules, codes and laws to, a generally accepted degree, benefit everyone in the community.

Communism is, again, similar, but different. Communism as envisioned and expounded by Karl Marx is both a social AND an economic system. It basically doesn't recognize the individual rights of anyone. Everyone is the same. Everyone is supposedly equal. No one owns anything. Everything is owned by the central authority or government, if you will. While the most basic premise seems Utopian in theory, in practice, it's oppressive and repressive. A small elite group controls everything and everyone, supposedly for the “greater good.” As most everyone has witnessed, communism doesn't work.

I have a group of friends in my former hometown in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. We are all single, mostly divorced, some widowed. On several occasions, because we enjoyed each others' company, we had deep discussions about forming our own commune. While we were diverse educationally, professionally, financially, spiritually and we each came from different parts of the U.S. originally, we genuinely liked one another. We had even traveled and lived communally for a week at a time on several occasions. Some of the group did some serious research on the concept.

It never manifest in an actual plan. While we could agree on most facets of creating such a commune, there was at least one big issue we couldn't resolve . . . location. If the members of the group were going to give up what they had to become a member of this small association (we envisioned not more than, perhaps, 12 people), everyone wanted it to be in a place each dreamed of living. Some wanted to be near the ocean. Some wanted to be in a rural area. Some wanted to live in the mountains. Some preferred a lake setting. Thus, this seemingly, almost perfect dream never came about.

That's the beauty of what this week's photo-of-the-week represents to me. I can be part of a small commune of reasonably like minded individuals I can relate with. And, then two weeks later be by myself somewhere or part of a different communal group. Many thanks to the folks I shared this time with for including me and for the friendship. And, many thanks to the people in other small communal groups I've been included in. I look forward to more opportunities in the future to share communal time with all of you.

As an aside, I'm putting together an addition to My McVansion. Last year I had to wait for the sun to move to lower positions in the sky to cast some shade. Shade is especially useful on very bright, hot days. So, this year, I'm adding a nice canopy to the right side of the van. It will provide shade from the sun and shelter from damp, rainy days all day from sun up to sun down. One is always working at improving their home and that's true for vandwellers and RVers as well. Live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #240 Scene of Latest U.S. Terror Attack, San Bernadino, California, December, 2015

This is not my photo! It's a stock photo I downloaded from the Web. I could have chosen any of a number of photos of the scene of the horrific terror attack that took place in the city of San Bernadino, California this past week, but I chose something that was more indicative of the city.

I was in San Bernadino this past winter. It is a California city of something over 215,000 people. Like several cities in California, it has been going through difficult economic times and is dealing with a bankruptcy. But, I don't care what the specific circumstances of any city, town or village in the U.S., nothing should make it the target of a terrorist attack. And, just as happened in Paris only a few short weeks before, this unsuspecting city was dealt an undeserved blow below the belt. But, even worse, it took the lives of 14 innocent people, physically wounded another 21 and emotionally and psychologically wounded not only hundreds of people related to these direct victims, but tens of thousands who see their hometown and the world through different eyes, now.

My first visit to San Bernadino was in the early 1970's, when the now closed, Norton Air Force Base was part of that community. I was in the Air Force, based in Washington, DC assigned to the Secretary of the Air Force Office of Information. I was on a TDY (temporary duty) assignment in California and was ready to return to Washington. I was authorized to fly home by commercial airline, but chose to don my blue uniform, drive my rental car to San Bernadino and fly home from Norton Air Force Base on the “U.S. Air Force Airline.” That was about 43 years ago.

I've driven through San Bernadino a few times since then and, as I mentioned, the latest time being in December of last year and again in the early part of this year. And just one year later, this horrendous event takes place. Of course, I couldn't have imagined such an event taking place in San Bernadino, or anyplace else in the U.S. for that matter. But, then again, just a little over 14 years ago, in plain sight of where I grew up, two airliners became the weapons of foreign terrorists who ultimately took the lives of nearly 3,000 innocent people that day.

No! I'm not going to be stupid and blame workplace violence. No! I'm not going to be stupid and blame inanimate, brainless, objects, namely guns, for this. No! I'm not going to blame global warming or climate change (whichever anyone wants to call it), racism, religious persecution, the economy, education or anything else for this. I'm going to blame the REAL cause – HATE! It's that plain and simple. For all the good there is in this world, there is a lot of evil and it manifests itself in four ways – HATE, GREED, CORRUPTION and STUPIDITY!

The stupidity part is mainly home-base right here in the U.S. It starts from the top down. I'm so sick of political correctness and our government trying to make us believe we're to blame for all of this. Yes, we are arrogant. Yes, we are affluent in many ways, other than just financial. Yes, we are materialistic, over-indulgent and even shallow. But, in general, we are the most generous, caring, sharing people in the world. We, in general are not the Kardashians or the Trumps or the Obamas or the Caitlyn Jenners or any of the other “over the top,” bigger than life, so called “idols” of American idiocracy. We are just a whole lot of nice people.

Guess what? A whole lot of nice people were massacred this week because they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were celebrating a part of our American way of life when a couple STUPID people full of HATE, and one of them born, raised and educated in this very country, decided they were going to become the judges, jury and executioners of people who never did a thing to them or their child. They were treated like welcome members of The American Way.

People often ask me - because they know I'm a wandering, living free, freedom loving nomad, exploring the country of my origin, experiencing its beauty and wonder and meeting the wonderful diversity of people who make up this great place – whether I carry a gun with me for self-defense. Frankly, whether I do or whether I don't is no one's business except my own. It's another of the personal choices we can all make in our lives. In order to defuse a controversial subject before it has the opportunity to turn into a discussion or argument that I personally don't want to be involved in. I typically will say, I don't. But, only I know the truth and that's going to be the way it remains.

However, let me go on record to say, I support the 2^nd Amendment. No! I'm not an NRA member. I have no need or desire to become an NRA member. But, I know one thing for certain. Evil, stupid, hate-filled, greedy and corrupt people WILL always find a way to get their hands on the inanimate objects we call guns and all their accessories and ammunition and will use them against unarmed people, regardless of whatever controls are put on obtaining and owning such inanimate objects.

Further, they will continue to buy readily available materials and, with knowledge readily available on the Internet, construct bombs, IEDs (as they are now called) and weapons of mass destruction just like these two mad dogs in San Bernadino had. Evil people with no outlook for a future for themselves will embrace ideologies that reward them in their death to take on suicide missions and attacks (and suicide attacks are as old as humanity).

So, my heart, my thoughts and my prayers go out to the families of the dead victims, the wounded and their families and the people of San Bernadino, California for the losses they experienced this past week. But, even more, my heart and thoughts go out to all the personal freedom loving people in the U.S. and the world and ask you to pull your fucking heads out of the sand and start calling evil what it is. Stop blaming it on everything that has nothing to do with it.

I'm sorry, but innocent people will die when right/good stands up against evil and destroys evil. No civilized person is happy about that and none of us condone it. But, that is part of the cost. And, I have to support that over innocent people anywhere being tortured and massacred barbarically and inhumanely by stupid, hating, evil people who don't give a damn who they kill, period.

That's my piece for today. Like it or lump it. I don't care. I love life. I love living it without fear and intimidation. And I sure as hell don't want my life ended because of too damn many politically correct assholes, both in and out of our government, who can't stand up like real men and women and call a duck a duck, a hate monger a hate monger and a terrorist a terrorist and stop this shit! 

Happy Holidays and remember to live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #238 Freedom in Florida, Haulover Beach, Miami, Florida, February 2004

What can exemplify personal freedom anymore than being on a beach sans any clothing? So, you might be asking what might I have been wearing and how far away was I with my telephoto lens? I am not a practicing nudist or naturist, the two labels that seem to be used interchangeably for this lifestyle. However . . . when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Yes! I was a full participant and the photo was not taken with a telephoto lens.

The backstory for this photo begins with a trip to Florida with my friend. We had the use of another of my friend's house in a Miami suburb while he was traveling on business for an extended period. The friend I was traveling with, who I'm still good friends with, decided she was going to test me and see how much of a prude I was. What she didn't know is that I had gone skinny dipping on a few occasions before I met her. I also spent two weeks in New Zealand where the folks are much more laid back about things like the naked human body, as are people in most of the rest of the world. So, I had enjoyed several group nude experiences there as well. I passed her test hands down.

This is Haulover Beach in Miami, Florida, an internationally acclaimed, clothing optional beach. I hadn't been there before, nor had my friend, but she is an RN and very comfortable with the naked human body. She adapted instantly to being on a beach, nude, with numerous other strangers all wearing the attire we were all born in.

I grew up in a relatively conservative, northern New Jersey family. I attended a puritanical Baptist church from as early as I can remember. Modesty was heavily stressed. Nudity, the naked body, had shameful, dirty and sinful connotations. So, believe me, my first couple skinny dipping experiences were very, very stressful for me. Thankfully, while, as I said, I'm not a practicing naturist, I'm much more comfortable in my skin (no pun intended) today than I was as a repressed teenager and college student.

Being nude with other people in a situation like this is very natural (thus, the label, naturist) and freeing. One rapidly learns to accept that all the beautiful bodies we see in movies, soft and hard core porn magazines, Playboy and similar magazines are the exception. People are just people. We all have different bodies. Naturists, for the most part, at least according to my experience, are not who we may define as exhibitionists. If they were, they wouldn't allow children and teenagers to be exposed to the lifestyle. That being said, yes, there were at least a few exhibitionists on the beach. They had to make sure everyone knew they were there and focused on their usually unexposed “assets.” Exhibitionists have always fascinated me. Some time I'd like to interview some. But, naturists are just you're average person who accepts their bodies and those of everyone else as a natural part of life.

Perhaps you've already had the opportunity to experience the freedom and less stressful environment of a place like Haulover Beach. You know how enjoyable it is to strip away any facades and just be yourself. If you've never had the opportunity or made the effort to walk on an ocean or lake beach au naturel, you should. After all, all you're doing is removing those last few scraps of cloth separating you from a feeling of real freedom. And, truthfully, it's not like we all don't know what the small pieces of cloth are covering? It doesn't matter if you're beautiful or not. It doesn't matter if you're thin and fit or a plus size and lumpy. It doesn't matter how large or small or perfect your male or female “attributes” are. It doesn't matter if you're wealthy or poor, belong to the country club or dine at a soup kitchen. No one judges anyone else. There are just no facades.

Of course, I would never force anyone to go to a clothing optional beach or participate in any kind of situation, like taking all their clothes off in a group of nude people if it made a person feel uncomfortable. Like everything else in life, this is a lifestyle choice and doesn't suit everyone. I've not had an opportunity to revisit Haulover Beach since this time, but I will the next time I'm in the Miami area and the weather is conducive.

Live free and be happy. EH   

Photo-of-the-Week #237 – In Solidarity with the French People, November 13, 2015

This week's photo, or actually a symbol, isn't about me or the places or experiences I've had. It's about the horrific experience the French, and especially the Parisians, had on November 13, 2015 . . . Friday the 13^th.

In the U.S., the Friday following our Thanksgiving Day holiday has become known as Black Friday. Frankly, I never got it . . . the designation, that is. However, Friday the 13^th of November this year is truly a Black Friday for France.

We may not all agree with each others' or other countries' politics, but no one, no people or country deserves what happened in Paris on that day.

I have little more to say than my thoughts, prayers and condolences go to the people of France and especially the families and friends of those who lost loved ones through the carnage that occurred that day. That includes at least one American family (so far). Vive la France, God Bless America and God Bless all freedom loving people everywhere. 

Photos-of-the-Week #232 Blast From The Past, Gone But Never To Be Forgotten, Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, August, 2008

This unassuming building with the antique Chrysler parked out front and the ExecutiveBooks.Com sign is not what one would assume from the outside. It was, in fact, the personal library of my dear, long-time friend, the late Charlie “Tremendous” Jones. I write this in the past tense because Charlie died October 16, 2008. I took these photos on my next to the last visit I had with my friend about two months before he passed away.

As you can see from the other interior photos, this building held a treasure in old and antique books and other memorabilia. There is nothing new in this room. There are no new or current books. There are no new or current recordings. There are no new or current paintings, photos or graphic works. Even the fliers, brochures and booklets on the tables are vintage or antique.

Yes! That is a real, working player piano with a large selection of piano rolls. You can see one threaded in the window on the piano. Over near the windows there is a wax cylinder player. I believe it was an Edison unit. There was a large selection of historic wax cylinders including some important speeches. There was also an old Victrola from the Victor Talking Machine Company with a collection of historic 78 rpm phonograph records.

There was an aura about this room. Over the years I knew Charlie, I had been in the library on several occasions. The building stood adjacent to the guest house Charlie maintained on his small farm in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania. For many years during some of the tougher times and the start-up days of his publishing business and his international speaking career, this guest house was his headquarters. The building where the library was housed was the warehouse. Charlie had his personal, private office in the guest house where it remained until his death. Yes! There was a sizable library of books there, too. Some of those were more contemporary. Charlie and I spent many hours in conversation in that comfortable office.

As you look around the library you'll see all kinds of books. Charlie loved books, all books. There were many first editions. He would be speaking to a huge audience and he'd hold up a book and kiss it to get his point across. I don't recall a lot about Charlie's childhood or education. I know he was originally from Alabama. I don't recall if he attended college. He became an insurance salesman for one of the largest U.S. insurance companies at age 22. By age 23 he was winning major sales awards. By 30 he was one of the most successful insurance sales people in the U.S.

This room is the essence of Charlie Jones' love of books, learning and sharing the books and the knowledge gained from them. During his lifetime he published countless books for, at the time, lesser known or unknown authors, several of his own books, supplied millions of books to individuals and businesses and spoke to over 5,000 audiences around the world. To say I cherish these photos and the photos I have with Charlie, is an understatement.

This building still exists. It's now owned, along with the guest house, by one of Charlie's daughters and her husband. I haven't been in either building since the ownership changed. I do know the library, and everything it represented to Charlie, to me and the countless others who visited it, is gone. Charlie had made arrangements to donate all of its contents prior to his death. So, being in that room in the past and now looking at these photos is definitely a “blast from the past” for me. However, while the library is gone, it will never be forgotten, nor will my friend, Charlie “Tremendous” Jones.   

Photos-of-the-Week #194 - From Sea to Shining Sea and Gulf to Lake, America the Beautiful, 2014 - 2015

From Sea - The Atlantic Ocean

To Shining Sea - The Pacific Ocean

From the Gulf Shores - The Gulf of Mexico

To the Great Lakes - Lake Erie

I've been sitting here in sunny, warm southern California enjoying the time I'm spending with my son as I await the recovery of My McVansion from it's "heart attack" (engine failure). I began recapping the past 12 months of travel My McVansion and I have enjoyed and experienced. I have literally been from sea to shining sea and from the Gulf to the Lakes. What a wonderful year.

So, all I can say is that life is good and personal freedom makes it even better. Don't misinterpret my thought. It's not like there haven't been a few challenges and adversities. Of course, there have been some of those. Life would be pretty boring if everything was perfect all the time. And it's certainly not that I haven't been to both oceans and the Gulf of Mexico and the Great Lakes before (although it has been a long, long time since I've been to the Great Lakes). But, to experience all four extremes of our beautiful country over land, without the assistance of an airliner, within a 12 month period is definitely a first for me.

I was actually at the Atlantic a second time and at the Hudson River, the north shore of the Long Island Sound, on the shores of several of the Finger Lakes in New York State, at Ocean Pond (a large lake in northern Florida) and Lake Jackson in Sebring, Florida as well as crossing the Ohio River (at several crossings) and the Mississippi River again and at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi River, a place I've never crossed the Mississippi river before. I was next to the torrents of water passing over Niagara Falls and found several other waterfalls in New York State, one of which had a longer vertical drop than Niagara Falls. And there has been so much more and even more to come.

The amazing thing is that I've only begun to scratch the surface of seeing this great continent and country. It's not like I haven't been traveling most of my adult life through college and ever since. But, it's different now. I get to see it all from the ground view rather than the eagle's view. Additionally, I get to see it on my terms, not the terms of some business deadline that had to be met.

If you're a fellow traveler, you know exactly what I'm saying. If you're not, you don't know what you're missing. Americana is waiting for your and calling you.   

Photo-of-the-Week #191 - 25th Reunion, Merry Christmas, Clovis, California, December 25, 2014

This is a one of a kind photo. It, quite obviously, is different than my typical photo of the week. The photo illustrates the best Christmas gift I've had in years. It is a "double reunion."

Pictured, left to right, is my former wife, Cynthia, (and while I had two other long term relationships during my lifetime, one of them being to a second wife, I consider Cynthia my only wife), my 36 year old son, Pete, and yours truly.

The reunions? This Christmas is the first Christmas I've celebrated with my son in 12 years, he moved to the West Coast for the following Christmas. But, I said it was a double reunion. Indeed it was because it was the first Christmas in 25 years that Cynthia, Peter and I celebrated the holiday together.

We now live very different lifestyles. I, of course, have no fixed residence of my own any longer and consider wherever My McVansion is parked for an extended period of time as "home" for that particular period. Currently, my location is Clovis, California. Cynthia, although raised in Fresno, California (right next to Clovis), lives in a condo in Palm Springs, California. Pete lives in the "City of Angels," Los Angeles, California. Pete's home was in Seattle, Washington for just over nine years prior to his move to Los Angeles about two years ago where he rents a nice little house.

Palm Springs, Los Angeles and Clovis are all within about a three hour drive of one another. But, I, being an east coaster, born and raised in New Jersey and having lived the past 44 years in the Mid-Atlantic region (Washington, DC, Maryland and Virginia), have a continent between us since I still remain in the eastern U.S. much of the time.

This is actually a banner year for me. I had the opportunity to spend time with my son once during the summer of 2014 and now again, during the Christmas holiday. The last time I spent time with my son was during the summer of 2012.

This second photo is of Cynthia, Peter and Cynthia's mother (my former mother-in-law), BJ Gardner. The photos were taken in the backyard of BJ's residence. BJ worked with me for many years during the latter 70's, the 80's and part of the 90's. We've been spending time reminiscing about the many projects we worked on together, the people we worked with and met and all the places we traveled to record conferences for clients from coast to coast. During the early years, Cynthia, Pete as a child, pre-adolescent and teenager and I traveled and worked on many projects together.

I think the most important thing is that despite the fact Cynthia and I only spent about 20 years of our lives together, we made it a point to remain friends and to care about each other over these past 25 years. Unfortunately, I see many relationships that have ended in divorce where one or both parties are very bitter and often hate one another. I never felt that way about Cynthia and I don't believe she has ever felt that way about me. It seems such a shame when two people have spent such a significant part of their lives together and then throw all that away to bitterness and hatred, especially if there is one or more children involved.

Additionally, Cynthia's family, mother, brothers and sister, their spouses and children, all continue to embrace me as part of the family. This is a blessing and gift to be truly appreciated.

I hope you also had a very happy Christmas, Hanukah or any other holiday you may observe at this time of year, regardless of where you are or who you spent it with. I also wish you a happy, healthy and abundant 2015 and hope you realize your aspirations for the upcoming year.   

Photo-of-the-Week #190 The Land of REAL Illegal Aliens, Walmart, Roswell, New Mexico, December 2014

I think this photo is pretty self-explanatory. Roswell, New Mexico has made quite a big thing about an event that occurred in 1947. A flying saucer supposedly crashed on a ranch outside Roswell (about 60 miles or so outside Roswell). There they found the bodies of extraterrestrials, obviously, depicted as the lanky green men painted on the windows at the Walmart Supercenter at the north end of Main Street. "Are these real "Walmartians?"

Well, I'm not sure that everyone has the same story. Some people see these denizens of outer space as green while others see them as an ashen gray or almost white. I guess it's all in the eye of the beholder. The city has made quite a small business out of these supposed visitors from some far away planet.

The remains of the supposed crashed flying saucer like flying vehicle along with the remains of the dead and any living aliens have been moved to the secret base known as Area 51 north of Las Vegas. Of course, everything about the 1947 event and the remains of the craft and its occupants is all conjecture. There are all kinds of conspiracy theories and I'm sure, like most events of this kind, it has been blown out of proportion. Do you believe?

Photo-of-the-Week #189 - American War Memorial, Ash Flat, Arkansas, December 2014

There are so many interesting finds as one travels the United States. This is one of them. My friends, John and Sharon Abert, currently of Cherokee Village, Arkansas (soon to be full-time road warriors and nomads) brought me to this park in a small rural town, Ash Flat, Arkansas. In this park is one of the nicest small community war memorials I've seen in my travels.

These are only a few photos of the site here, but the memorial was very well done. It represented the five U.S. military services and the men, women and service dogs who died and those who were wounded during numerous military campaigns including WWII, Korea, Vietnam, the first Gulf War, the Iraq and the Afghanistan wars.

As a veteran of the Vietnam era, while I can't say I enjoy visiting memorials to all my fallen and injured brothers and sisters at arms, I do feel it's almost a duty to show my respect to them. I was very impressed by this memorial. It was very well done and very respectful, especially for a very small rural town. But, then again, small towns are often better able to express their respect in this manner simply because they are small and the loss of individuals in service to their country is a much more personal event. Most people in these towns know or certainly are closer to everyone in town than are those in larger or very large cities.

Photo-of-the-Week #186 - Titillation or Natural, Bourbon Street, New Orleans, Louisiana, September 2003

No pun intended with the title of this Photo-of-the-Week, although, I'm sure many will think there is. I'm going to wax philosophic over the topic of, in particular, breasts, boobs, hooters and a plethora of other terms used for a natural part of ALL humans' anatomy, plus the human body in general. I'm sure some of you may be put off by this, however, I can assure you nothing perverse, lewd or lascivious follows. This will be fairly long and unusual for my Photo-of-the-Week post, but I'll reveal my motivation for this article near the end.

Why?

I took this and several other photos of women exposing their breasts on Bourbon Street in New Orleans in 2003. The question is WHY do women bare their breasts in public like this? The next question is, WHY do men  go crazy over seeing bare breasts? Is it because they get to see nipples? Interesting! Every time I take my own shirt off and look in a mirror, I see . . . guess what? Nipples! I've also seen men who have developed larger breasts than some women have. Yet, we don't get all crazy when we see bare breasted men.

Okay, maybe at my age, old enough to be a certified "dirty old man," I've seen enough women's breasts that they no longer (I'm going to use the word again) titillate me to quite the same degree they did when I was in my teens, 20's and 30's with my raging hormones. But, think about it, breasts or, for that matter, male and female genitalia are as natural parts of every human body as fingers, toes, the nose on your face and the ears on the side of your head.

We go to museums and see beautiful paintings and statues of the female and male body completely exposed. We even take our children there and expose them to, what we call, ART. Yet, we have turned the same parts of the human body that are part of this art, into objects of (again, I use the word) titillation, lewdness and worse. We even have laws against indecency for exposing these parts of the body in public.

Until relatively recently, the anatomical names of these body parts weren't even allowed to be used on television, radio or even movies. Even the press was loathe to use them in news stories. We called them private parts or private areas (and still do in many cases). A more recent slang term that's become somewhat popular, especially when referring to male genitals, is "junk." Sorry, I ain't got no "junk."

So, why is this? There are tribes of people around the world, still, who wear little or no clothing. We even show video documentaries of these indigenous people in their natural state on television. Nudity is as natural as sleeping and eating to them. Well, until we and, dare I say, missionaries, indoctrinate them in their shame. Shame they never knew.

There are countries, in Europe, South America, Africa, Asia and even Canada, not to discount Australia and New Zealand, where nudity (not public displays of sexual activities) is generally legal and/or tolerated. And, yes, there are private naturist resorts and some public beaches in the U.S. and places like San Francisco, Oregon and Key West, Florida where public nudity is accepted for certain situations and events.

Are There Rewards?

The women who expose their boobs in New Orleans are typically rewarded with a strand of cheesy plastic beads. I'm sure they don't put any greater value on those beads than any other cheap trinket. I believe they do it to express their own desire for personal freedom, freedom from being told or forced to conform to someone else's values, standards or definition of moral behavior. The more beads, the freer they feel.

And, where did this all start? Could it have been in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve discovered they were naked and ashamed? I won't even approach the topic of religious oppression and open a MEGA sized can of worms.

Standing around the woman in the photo above, who, by the way, does not have a super model body, but she does seem to be enjoying her opportunity of free expression, are both men and women ogling her. It's as if the guys have never seen boobs before. I interpret the expressions on some of the women as - "Geez, I'd like to feel the freedom of doing that," but they are remembering everything they have been taught and conditioned throughout their lives about how "good girls" should behave in public.

Follow The Money!

We can take another tact on this issue. Is this not about MONEY? Think about it. How much money does the clothing industry make every year designing and selling push-up and Wonder bras, see through blouses and dresses, mini skirts so short they more properly should be considered belts, sexy panties and thongs and bathing suits.

It amazes me that women, in particular, are exploited for huge amounts of money for sexy underwear, but don't want men to see it in public because the men are seeing too much of their bodies. Yet, the same women will prance around beaches in bathing suits that often expose more of their skin than the underwear does. Sometimes the tops barely covers the nipples and the bottoms, well, those have spawned another industry called "waxing" that's required to remove hair that would be seen peaking out of the skimpy bathing suits and bikini bottoms. There is even a name for that - the "bikini line." These bathing suits and the necessary "grooming" associated with them cost more than a full skirt or pair of dress slacks for business. And they cover so little, nothing is left to the imagination anyway. Why even wear them?

A Slap In The Face

As an aside, as a young teenage boy,  I had my face slapped one time. The assailant was a particularly cute girl in, believe it or not, my biology class, because I mentioned the cute birthmark she had on her inner thigh near her crotch. She wore the shortest mini skirts in the school of nearly 4,000. She accused me of looking up her skirt. Actually, I saw the birthmark during the preceding summer when a bunch of us went to the movies and she was wearing the shortest, tightest short, shorts, again, of any girl in the school. She didn't try to hide the birthmark then and it was obvious to everyone. I tried to explain, but got nowhere. Secretly, I think she was flattered and (here it comes) titillated herself that I (or any guy) would want to look up her skirt.

GGW

Joe Francis, an entrepreneur of questionable character, amassed a fortune estimated at $150 million. He achieved this bounty by photographing and video taping thousands of young, mostly attractive, women, typically of college age, who would bare their breasts or drop their pants, or even perform sex acts in public places. He typically gave them a T shirt as payment and had them sign model releases. He then produced DVD's and later streaming videos by the millions and sold them to men.

Joe's company's name, started in 1997, is GGW, LLC (Girls Gone Wild). He went to college campuses, Mardi Gras, Spring Breaks, Fantasy Fest and similar events. The girls exposed their bodies willingly. The market, of course, was men of all ages.

But, Joe didn't want to be unfair, so he started another GGW for Guys Gone Wild using the same business model except he sent our female camera crews and the market was, you guessed it, women. Joe got himself into a lot of trouble over the years. He's no longer owner of the company. The company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2013, but not because there isn't still a huge market for the product. 

I could go on and on with examples of both female and male strip clubs, so-called, high-class "Gentlemen's Clubs" where men could bring their dates (and the dates would actually be treated with respect), as well as, adult lingerie and "toy" stores and "glamour" photographers. The list could go on and on.

Idealizing The Body, Yet Oppressing Free Expression Of The Body

Here's the thing. As a species we have allowed ourselves to become repressed by religious doctrine, moral standards dictated by someone else and conditioned into us and laws enacted by people (unfortunately, often hypocrites) who determine what is legal behavior and legislate morals. I contend this has done two things.

First, it has spawned several huge, multi-billion dollar industries (hooray for free enterprise and capitalism). Second, it has turned something that is natural and beautiful into something considered by many to be lewd, dirty, sordid and tawdry, the nude human body.

We allow television producers to depict horrific scenes of violence and disembowelment in high definition. There is even a new category of actor in the Screen Actor's Guild, "Dead Body." Yes! Actors who play dead bodies. Meanwhile, it creates news of epic proportions and public outrage when Janet Jackson's nipple appeared on the TV screen for a fraction of a second during a Super Bowl full of violent gladiators attempting to rip each other's heads off. Because of this horrendous event, we now have millions of children who are scarred for the rest of their lives. Me thinks there may be a problem with the definition of "public indecency."

The Wrap Up

Okay, time to wrap up my philosophical diatribe on the breast and human body. But, first. allow me to explain my motivation for this article.

I have posted two other photos of women baring their breasts on Bourbon Street in past Photos-of-the-Week. They are, to date, two of the three most viewed photos on my blog, to the tune of thousands of views. They vie only with one other photo and God only knows why. It's a photo of the barracks I stayed in during basic training at Lackland Air Force Base. In those other two photos I blurred out the nipples and left the faces exposed and I'm sure all the viewers were disappointed. I may go back and reverse the blurring process as I did with this one.

I believe we are an unbelievably hung up society. I am as bad as the next person, male or female. I won't be a hypocrite. Actually, I think, and this is my opinion based on a very small sampling, that women truly want to be freer. Since Women's Lib, they have come a long way. Many choose to express their desire to be less confined by tradition, various forms of conformity and a male dominated society through opportunities to wear revealing and/or skin tight clothes or, even public nudity. Perhaps it is actually with the specific intent to titillate.

I've talked with any number of women who have said they would love to be able to walk around topless, as men can, especially at the beach and other social events. Some are comfortable with total nudity in public and social arenas. Some said they often wear little or nothing in their own homes because they are most comfortable that way. I don't believe it's because they want to turn men on sexually or titillate them in public. It's simply because they feel confined in clothing.

I honestly have not questioned men on the same subject. They may have similar desires and feelings. I'm personally turned off by men's baggy, long swim trunks. I'm, also, not into the Speedo swim suit (especially at my age). But, I keep looking for a decent swim suit that allows me freedom of movement. However, there is nothing like skinny dipping.

Obviously, clothing definitely serves an important purpose with regard to various kinds of weather. Certainly, that was a factor in humans creating clothing, after all, we are "The Naked Ape." Clothing in our current culture also defines who we think we are, how we want to be accepted, how we are feeling on a specific day and, certainly, for workplace safety in certain occupations. So, I'm not dissing clothes for women or men.

 I'm simply suggesting that if we weren't as hung up about the natural aspect of the human body and conditioned to be modest by some other individuals' standards, beliefs and values systems, perhaps we wouldn't experience the kind of guilt and exploitation we currently deal with and my New Orleans photos views wouldn't outnumber my other photos-of-the-week by magnitude of tens and hundreds.

Who knows, maybe, if we were all more "comfortable in our (nude) skin in public, it might even reduce, hopefully, by significant numbers, crimes against women. But, then again, maybe women actually do use clothes to purposely titillate men . . . for their own reasons.

 I keep forgetting that "Women Are From Venus and Men Are From Mars." Maybe in the grand scheme of things we're never supposed to truly understand one another. Meanwhile, I sure don't mind the Victoria's Secrets commercials and I enjoy Bourbon Street (and similar) when I can visit them.

I'm sure I'm going to get blasted for this post, especially, (or possibly) by women readers. But, at this age and since this is my "living free" blog, I feel completely free to express my thoughts, opinions and beliefs. I, of course, invite all feedback. Comment away.