I admit to being a closet nudist. By that I mean that I only walk around naked inside my closet. I flirted with the idea of becoming a nudist once… or as they call it, a naturist. But I have never overcome the urge not to be naked where anybody can ever see me. I am a chicken. Literally. I look like a plucked chicken when I have no clothes on, especially now that I have all the little pink bleedy spots all over the lower parts of my body. Bread me and fry me, I am done with this particular metaphor.
I come from Iowa where kids were repeatedly told never to run around like a naked Indian. I think older people tell you that because they know from experience naked in Iowa in the winter time is tantamount to making parts of yourself into popsicles where you really really really don’t want to get all icy-frozen. (I mean fingers and toes, of course! What did you think I meant?)
But I have learned from long experience of health problems that a little bit of running around like a naked Indian can actually be a beneficial thing to do. Now, I know that you probably don’t believe I am being completely candid here, and that I may have some kind of pervert’s agenda going on the background… but I have been told it is so not only by naturists, but also by medical professionals.
This link is to an article on Today, Health & Wellness written by