
I have been to a nudist park and taken all my clothes off one time and one time only so far. Yesterday was supposed to be visit number two. On a Saturday there were supposed to be more visitors to meet and get to know… and I mean really get to know. But it didn’t happen because of weather and poor health. It rained. And my blood sugar was a long way from perfect. In many ways it was a relief not to go. I was nervous about being with a crowd of naked people. I was nervous about how to act and where to go, and especially, “What are the most embarrassing mistakes that beginning nudists make?”

Because I figure I will probably make them. And will it be extra embarrassing because I am walking around naked? Probably.
But I do think it is not going to be a mere one-time experience that I will never do again. I think I am committed to going back, not just because I am supposed to be writing for a nudist website, but because it benefits me health-wise, both physically and mentally.
To be specific, I have visited the Bluebonnet nudist park near Alvord, Texas. It is a beautiful campground and clubhouse facility. I borrowed pictures from their website to post on this blog and give them a bit of extra advertising.

Here’s the things that benefited me the most. I got to meet some of the most welcoming and accepting people you ever want to meet. They are polite, interesting to talk to, and just as naked and vulnerable as I am. You can’t get much more socially equal than when you are talking to naked people.
The sunshine was also a very good thing for me. The problem I have with psoriasis in old age is that the plaques and sores that result are never quite dry enough to heal when you are wearing clothes in the Texas heat. But in the nude in the midst of nature, I felt cool and dry and hadn’t even a hint of the old itch that made me want to tear my skin off.

They have a beautiful pool there, which I had all to myself during that first visit. The picture with people in it is from their website. It is one of two pools that they have there for weekly water-volleyball.
I didn’t believe it would be so relaxing and fun the first time I went, but I can safely say the feel of it, the sense of accomplishment of it, the feeling of self-acceptance it gives me, was worth all the risk of embarrassment I faced. It was a stupid thing to do. But I am not the only idiot drawn to it. There are actually thousands of nudists in the United States. There are even more in Canada too. I am actually glad I did it. And though I didn’t make it back there on Saturday as originally planned, I do think I will be doing it again.

























For the Love of Sad Clowns
This is my latest clown picture, inspired by my newest fascination with Puddles’ Pity Party on YouTube. Like all my clown pictures, I am fairly sure that my number one son will tell me it’s a creepy clown. He has never liked clowns. When he was still small we took him to the pre-show at Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus which at that time was Meet the Clowns. We met the men… and women… and dwarves… in the face paint with the loud personalities and huge red smiles. I was charmed, as always, but number one son spent most of the time behind my pantleg, peering around for sneak peaks at the clowns. He was actually shivering most of the time.
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But me, I love clowns. Always have. Especially the sad clowns. The hobo clowns. Red Skelton playing Freddy the Freeloader, Charlie Chaplin as the Little Tramp, Marcel Marceau, the peerless mime, and Emmett Kelly Jr. as Weary Willie. There is something deeply poetic and resonant about a clown who makes you laugh by his outward actions but manifests deep feelings and an underlying sadness on the inside. It is a metaphor for the whole of life in the human world.
Puddles walked on to the stage of America’s Got Talent and engaged everyone first with his silent-clown mime routine, and then grabbed everyone right by the heart by singing a song about drinking and swinging on the chandelier with such emotion and operatic power that, by the end of the song everyone was standing, everyone loved him. Singing clowns with a sad song help us keep our own little boats afloat on a vast and stormy ocean of life. The song buoys us up and makes it bearable to tread water a little longer. I am at a time and place in my life where I really need that.
I love clowns. Especially sad clowns. Particularly when they sing.
I dare you to watch these videos and not fall in love with Puddles. That’s the point of sad clowns. They make you laugh at the sad and serious things that tear people apart. And by doing that, they put Scotch Tape on the tears and put you back together.
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Filed under battling depression, clowns, commentary, goofy thoughts, humor, Paffooney, sharing from YouTube, strange and wonderful ideas about life
Tagged as clowns, humor, PUDDLES' PITY PARTY