I have never had a personal encounter with (or a burning for) exhibitionism. Growing up, as a kid, I remember hearing stories of supposed trench coat flashers, and crazy streakers, and bizarre, cult nudist colonies… but in my whole life, I never witnessed any in action, first hand. The idea of someone exposing him or herself in public, maybe as an uncontrollable urge or necessary exciting thrill or act of artful expression… seemed like such a science fiction wonder to me.
This weekend, I took my usual stroll through the farmers market to refill my strawberry tank and perpetuate my addiction…. saw some of the same faces that I regularly see – the migrant entrepreneurs, the scary balloon clowns, the hobo buskers working their magic on the people….
All the strange sun and familiar ocean air and wind beating the boats’ sails in the distance… along with the plates and plates of freshly cut samples stabbed with toothpicks… it’s easy to get hypnotized… reminiscing about all the outdoor souks and otherworldly barker’s voodoo that I miss so dearly…
By the time I finally got home, I was exhausted and happily filled with my dose of open air and social interaction…
I unloaded the watermelon and strawberry pallet, along with the bundled clumps of fresh mint … kicked off my shoes… locked up the car… headed back in to the house… when all of the sudden, as I started to unbutton my shirt and peel it away… I looked down… to find… that my important zipper had been UN-zipped the entire morning…
Not that it’s such a horrible thing (and maybe the ocean air is the true elixir and secret fountain of youth)… but this is the third time this has happened to me in the last week and a half… completely unintentional and unplanned… and each time, I have to retrace my steps in my head, wondering who I might have passed or if anyone could have possibly noticed…
I want to believe this is not the beginning stages or early signs of dementia or of me losing my mind… but rather, simply another example of my carefree, hippy state of being…. so lost in thought and dreams that I can’t be bothered by such minor details… I keep telling myself it’s more evidence that I am a true free soul, living free and detached from the constraints of normal daily drudgery and even time itself… untethered from the conventional ways of the world. Right on, brother, right on.
Commando for the people…