Letting It All Hang Out At The Beach

I thought at this time I would be recovering from surgery, or at the very least preparing for it. However, my surgeon has been called for jury duty so Dawn and I are doing the thing we love the most. Waiting. So while I wait, I decided to write about when we went to a nude beach. I mentioned it at the end of the last blog and actually thought better of it but I have been asked about it so I hope I make it sound as interesting as you hope it was!

I am not a prude although I am very modest. My wife on the other hand finds clothing to be an annoying necessity of social acceptance. One of the things on her bucket list was to go to the nude beach at Canaveral National Seashore. Also known as Playalinda Beach.

We attempted it earlier this year but it was too crowded and we ended up on the beach with all the regular people in their bathing suits. A few days after my cancer diagnosis, I awoke one morning to my wife smiling and asking if I was up for an adventure.

At that point anything sounded better than just sitting around staring at each other in shock. ”What do I wear?” was, of course, my first question. “You don’t need to worry about that!” was her response. Oh boy, I had a feeling…

The ride to the beach was beautiful, a perfect fall day in Florida. Deep blue skies, puffy white clouds and a warm breeze, perfect for frolicking around naked on the shore! I was a little nervous when we stepped onto the beach and wanted to find a spot that wasn’t close to the other sun bathers.

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We walked looking for a place to settle all the while trying to decide between us what the proper etiquette was for interacting…do you look? Advert the eyes? Act like everyone is wearing clothes? I felt like I was lost in that old fairy tale The Emperor’s New Clothes.

I noticed a group of men, standing bare ass, talking to each other while their man parts were mere inches away from each other. Funny, I thought, if they were in Walmart or at the grocery store they would not dare be in that close of a proximity to one another.

Secretly, we both were rooting for their parts to accidentally touch just to see what happened next. Can you imagine? Naked apparently was the new normal. At that moment, we declared hence to forthwith this section of sand to be called “Sausage Beach”.

We finally found a spot with a little space around us and set up our chairs. Almost immediately an older man came walking towards us, parts swaying in the wind, to ask if we wanted to take a walk down the beach with him. Really? Dude, I just got here. Give me a break! And…NO!  We must have been real impressive as we still had our clothes on! Gave new meaning to the word wrinkled, I mean, welcome wagon.

It wasn’t long before Dawn went for it. I dared to take off the top of my suit. You know, ease into it. Not two minutes later my amazing wife was completely nude and literally dancing around her chair in the sun. In the spirit of unity, I admit I quickly followed “suit” without the dancing, no dancing. Can’t dance topless, someone may get hurt.

playalinda beachFor the first and only time in my 47 years, I sat on the beach bare ass nekkid! It was one of the most liberating feelings I have ever had. Funny how the news of breast cancer and the reality of living without breasts will loosen up any stuffy old rules you have lived by or better yet, been constrained by for your whole life.

Who cares if my boobs and girly bits were out for the world to see! Take a good look boys and girls, it’s the farewell tour for my pain in the ass tatas! My only regret is that I didn’t do this years ago. I didn’t even wince when Dawn brought out the video camera to record my reaction to my new found freedom! What the hell ever!

We sat there watching stark-naked people swim in the surf, chat with each other, walk the beach, pick up shells, and just enjoy their liberty. I will confess that I did look away when the guys bent over to pick up shells…really, no one needs to see that, lesbian or not. Some things cannot be unseen.

Adding to the fun was trying to suppress hysterical laughter while watching a short roundish man attempt to get out of the circular spider net bungee cord chair he was sitting in. You cannot make this stuff up. Getting caught up in that mess could have left a permanent injury. We were rooting for him to succeed. Honestly. Can you imagine the 911 call? Anyone see my cell phone?

After a few hours it was time to go. We would have stayed longer, but we did not factor in the rate that skin never touched by the sun would burn or that in our excitement to leave the house we would forget to pack the sunscreen. Plus, sand was getting in places it did not belong despite our best efforts to prevent it.

Before we left, I stopped at the restroom…barf…don’t ever use a public restroom at the beach. Dawn, taking heed of my mistake, disappeared into the palmetto scrub. This is probably too much information, but that’s how we roll in Waters Land. Hey, you asked…

Ironically, as I was writing this, the doctor’s office called with a surgery date. No more waiting. Boobmageddon is upon us.

Watch the video from our day at the beach.

 

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