2012, 2018 Mirror Image Edutainment, Alan John Mayer
I turned onto my new street in the Valley, and noticed a sea of commotion on the sidewalk. Before me, among all the rubberneckers, stood a very good looking naked young man of about twenty-five, bare ass. They must be shooting a movie, I thought, with a permit. I looked again, unsure of what I had seen and sure enough, there before me on the sidewalk stood a fully naked extremely good looking man, surrounded by a group of people, like a film crew. I expected to hear the A.D. call “Action”.
This I gotta see. I pulled into the driveway, parked my car, grabbed my bag of ice cream, opened the back door, tossed the ice cream into the freezer, and walked out the front door to the street.
I grabbed the dog’s leash”Pokey, we are going for a walk”. I have never been a rubbernecker. In case of an accident or mishap, people deserve privacy. But this was an accident of a different nature. This seemed no mishap. This was the most suspense that had come my way since I was dining with a friend at the I-Hop, and an armed gunman came running through the store, followed by two police officers pointing guns. The pursued ran out the emergency exit, setting off the alarm, and many patrons. That was in 19191, in West Hollywood.
Back to 2013.
Pokey walked me down the long driveway lined by cypress trees, turned onto the sidewalk, and headed in the direction where I had seen the naked man standing. It was as if he was wondering where he was. I still thought the film crew was waiting for a cloud to pass before the next take, or for wardrobe to show up. Pokey sniffed, marked the tree, and I looked up, just as the naked man came walking toward me. I could not help but look.
He was brown and beautiful. His head was covered by a thick mane of dark hair. He had an exquisitely chiseled face. His abs were perfect, and he had a tight waist. He approached, and my eyes went, you guessed it, straight to his eyes, then his bare feet. Man or woman, I love, even worship beautiful feet. I looked up from his feet, and could not help but notice the treasure trail leading from his groin to his naval, a very public pubic. In the moment, it occurred to me to offer him my shirt, or pants, but it seemed so unnecessary. He wasn’t cold. he had apparently not been in any accident. He did not look harmed in any way. He didn’t look like he was on drugs. Just out for a happy stroll.
Was this the dare of a friend?
Did he just feel like exposing himself today? Here he was, walking toward me in front of my home, naked. I thought of inviting him in. But what if he is not well mentally? I refrained. May I offer you a cup of tea? A pair of shorts? Perhaps you would like to come see my Lego houses. I do have a very comfortable bed. If I were to tell you, you have a beautiful body, would you hold it against me? I dared not offer him anything.
Instead, I said the first thing to come to mind “It’s a beautiful day for a walk”.
“Yes, beautiful,” he proceeded on his nature hike. I had to turn, get a good look at the rear, the back. As I did, I found Pokey was following him, along with half the neighbors. Several people were on cell phones, calling the police to report this obscene incident.
How unfortunate I left my cell phone in the house. I like taking pictures. How annoying, we live in a society where we feel threatened when someone steps out of the norm, and chooses to enjoy the most natural thing there is, walking in the sun naked, down the street, free, as we are born to be. Why must the moral majority (who are neither) impose their limited thinking upon the rest of us?
Granted, not everyone should walk down the street naked. Unless I was at a nudist camp, I certainly would not.
If nudity were allowed, I know I would get sick of having to see more than I am already forced to see in terms of heavy people who have no mirrors, but THIS MAN WAS A GOD. Perhaps everybody thinks he is a god, everybody is a god, but not everybody has the body of a God. I had to follow him, as if he were Jesus, but with Pokey having to stop at every tree (after an hour and a half at the dog park), I was having a hard time keeping up.
He can’t go far, I thought. I let him disappear into the background, down the street The police have got to be on their way with all these upset Mexicans, my neighbors, all.
The street was silent. The incident seemed so innocent. No more than whispering voices. At least a hundred people had come out to look, and rightfully so. Pokey continued walking me. I crossed the street to avoid the police, who by now had the man down on the sidewalk, to cover his privates. It looked as though they had handcuffed his hands behind his back. I felt sad for the guy. I wanted to step in and save him. Take him home. Heal him. He was like a flower child. My fatherly instinct arose. I wanted to offer comfort.
Or maybe I wanted to comfort myself. It had been, after all, six years into my celibacy, in this edit, eleven.
One never knows what one is getting oneself into when stepping into any situation. I have learned to step back. I wondered if I should have offered him the shirt off my back, but he didn’t seem to need it. He was fine, walking down the street with purpose, as if he had a destination. He did. East two blocks, to the Van Nuys police station.
Pokey walked me down the third block. As I turned to head home, I kept my eye on the incident. I was praying for a peaceful outcome, free of any abuse. The police officers had the matter under control, though not one offered the God a blanket, or any article of clothing. He was so beautiful, I believe they, too, wanted to get a good look.
How silly, I thought. A g-sting or thong would have protected him from whatever law it was they arrested him for. I wanted to tell the officers there was nothing indecent here; look at those beautiful toes, the fingers, the thighs. Whatever the charge, indecent exposure is certainly not one of them. There was nothing indecent about this man.
I kept silent, and minded my way. If you have to say anything, shut up, I told myself.
Six cars drove up, blocked the street, and twelve officers stepped onto the scene. He could have been dangerous, on drugs, but six cars and twelve officers just seems a real waste of taxpayer money. Would four not have done just as well? I know officers can be in danger with every call, but two or three could have taken care of the matter, as several officers were, as usual, just hanging around, interested in catching this delicious slice of life.
I imagine they told the story to their wives, comrades, and drinking buddies. Maybe the naked man was on drugs. He did seem a flower child, at peace with himself. So content with life was he, I wanted to be like him. To look like him, I would be content. I sure would like to find out what his story was, but the moment passed. I prayed for this man, for his best outcome, and added he might come to me in my dreams tonight, or tomorrow, to my bed. It’s cold here in the Valley.
Pokey marked the last tree, and we turned into the driveway. A siren approached, and an ambulance pulled up behind the police cars. I wish I had a blanket with me, and my cell phone camera, to capture, review and study this memorable incident. It isn’t every day you see a beautiful naked man walking down the sidewalk in front of your home. If Pokey wasn’t so darn pokey, I might have been able to keep up. Who knows, I might even have made a new friend.
Dad used to ask me when I came home from a date, “How’d you make out?”
I did go to the jail the next day to find out more. I wanted to talk with this man, but the guard told me they could not help me without a name. Nackt sein ist schön. Naked is beautiful, as long as it comes in the form of the naked man who strolled down my street, and into my heart forever. This edit is six years later, and Der Nakte Mann lebt immer noch bei mir im Herzen, he lives on in my heart.
Amen to all the beautiful naked people in the world.