THE NAKED TRUTH

When I was three-years-old, my parents took me to a public swimming pool and let me splash about in the nude. They were quickly informed that they were breaking the law, and little me needed to be in a bathing suit.  That was my first and last foray into public nudism.

A few years ago, one of my neighbors asked me if I could recommend a handyman. Of course, I did so. After he went to her home, he called me and said, “That was one Hell of a referral.” I said, “What happened?” He said, “ A lady, old enough to be my grandma, opened the door. Then she twirled around to show me her new skirt, but she was buck naked from the waist up.” I replied, “What did you do?” And he said, “I fixed her plumbing.” That was when I found out that my neighbor, and her husband, were devout nudists who vacationed to a nudist resort in Florida every winter.

What brought all this to mind was a story in the Washington Post by Craig Pittman (6/8/20) with the headline, “As Nudist Resorts Reopen, Clothes Come Off. Masks go on.”  According to the article, just like other businesses, Florida’s nudist industry was hit hard by the coronavirus pandemic, but now places like the Bare Buns Cafe allow limited seating on the patio with patrons bringing their own towels and following the six-feet apart rule.

The nudism business is a big deal in Florida. It is estimated that 2.2 million nudists visit resorts and beaches and take cruises in the all together, contributing more than seven-billion-dollars to Florida’s economy. That number is nothing to sneeze at—especially if you don’t have anywhere to put your Kleenex.  According to Pittman, “Florida has more nudist resorts than any other state with 29 registered clubs offering activities such as swimming, golf, pickle ball, tennis and volleyball.” Since resorts are now opening, and people are encouraged to wear masks, I guess the best way to recognize a naked friend is by his tattoo.

Before the concept of body shaming, Greeks and Romans played in the nude and the best athletes in the original Olympics were unencumbered by clothing. “Gymnos” (naked) was how athletes trained and competed. A Christian emperor put an end to the games in 393 AD. In the Renaissance period a reluctant Church had to accept the idea that God created man in his own image and that “He” had done a good job.

In the 16th Century the Puritans disapproved and went to New England and everybody had to cover up. In the late 18th and early 19th centuries there were no protestors with signs that said, “NAKED IS GOOD,” but Henry David Thoreau gave the American people pause when he took daily naked walks called “air baths,” and President John Quincy Adams regularly bathed nude in the Potomac River. I’d pay money to see Donald Trump do that because I have never seen anyone walk on water.

Americans in the Frontier went swimming naked in swimming holes, but they did not play pickle ball in the nude, because it hadn’t been invented yet.  The Victorian Era abhorred nakedness so much that people covered up from head to toe, and even piano legs were covered to “avoid sexual arousal.”  That reminded me of the story about the French artist, Toulouse Lautrec, when, in a gallery, a woman said to him, “That nude painting, Sir, is obscene!” and he replied, “Madame, the painting is not obscene. The obscenity is in your mind.”

So, back to the present conundrum of what to cover to stay healthy. This research  led me to University of Florida epidemiologist, Cindy Prins, who advises social distancing, and masks, for the clothed as well as the unclothed among us, and she adds, “As a greeting, I would not recommend the Butt Bump.”

And that is the Naked Truth!

Esther Blumenfeld

HI, THERE!

 Frankly, I for one, won’t mourn the demise of the handshake. I won’t miss the finger-crunching grip, or the four-finger extended limp-fish gesture, or, especially, the slobbering hand kiss. I always hated that!  I could never wait for the gentleman’s attention to wander elsewhere, so I could wipe the back of my hand on my skirt. I found it totally yucky!

Taking it one step further, I also won’t mind not being kissed on both cheeks by strangers, or enduring the California don’t-mess-my-makeup air kisses blown behind my hearing aids. So, here’s the dilemma; exactly how shall one greet people—especially if only half of your face is visible?

After researching the problem, I found out that there are many creative ways to address people, other than just saying “Hello.” Most people are already familiar with the “Elbow Bump,” that can be quite painful if someone misses your elbow. Also, taking it one step further, I must say, whoever invented the “Butt Bump” is a total idiot! The familiar “Peace Sign” is confusing, because you won’t know if someone is coming or going.

I also read that there’s a foot tap called the “Wuhan Shake.” I have never seen it. Or maybe I have seen it and mistakenly thought that someone was stepping on ants. Some people use the “Vulcan Salute” from STAR TREK. The problem is that by the time I get my fingers to cooperate, the person I want to greet is long gone.

Tipping one’s hat could work if you wear one, but miming a fist bump could get you a bloody nose, and putting your hand over your heart just might bring you an ambulance. If you have had a botox injection, raising your eyebrows is impossible, and even if you could raise them, it wouldn’t work, because no one can see if you are smiling or frowning under that mask.

Someone I know, suggested that clapping your hands, when seeing a good friend, is a nice gesture. However, if a  stranger is  coming your way, she just might turn around to look at what you are clapping at, and then run across the street to avoid you altogether.

I did find some warm and kind greetings a person can muster, that is, if you are feeling warm and kind. The Hindu “Namaste” greeting is simple. You put your palms together, under your chin, and then bow your head, but you have to be sure to eventually look up to see if the person you are greeting is still there.

The “Shake Sign” isn’t too difficult. You curl the 3 middle fingers, extend the thumb and pinky finger and shake your hand side to side.  It’s kind of like the “Vulcan” handshake except with less finger action.

Once you have selected a viable greeting, I would like to add a cautionary note: Whatever you do, NEVER ask, “How are you doing?” because you just might find out.

Esther Blumenfeld

WINNING BY A NOSE

When my son, Josh, was a very little boy, the worst punishment doled out was to send him to his room for time out. I could never understand why that made him unhappy, since there were plenty of books and toys for him to enjoy, until I cooled off, and he could get his freedom.

Now I get it! It’s not the room, it’s the confinement.  I love my new apartment, and always have plenty of activities to keep me occupied, but it’s the (hopefully) semi-permanent isolation, and distancing from family and friends, that is so hard to take.

Consequently, always looking for a new distraction, and excuse to leave my apartment, I was most interested with the notification that public health nurses would be on the premises to administer a nasal-stick-it-up-your-nose test to determine if anyone here is infected with the COVID-19 virus.  I learned a new oxymoron when we were warned that a “false-positive” might show up, and that some unsuspecting person might be infected.

Properly informed, I signed up. The exercise was free, and would take only ten minutes.Yippee! It gave me an opportunity to leave my apartment, other than taking daily walks with all the other little dogs in the neighborhood, and taking a one-person-at-a-time dip in the swimming pool.

In the meantime, I planned to watch the Broadway musical, “The King and I” on my television set. It was a re-run from last week when technical difficulties made it impossible to watch the second half of the show.  So, last week I had watched the “King” part, and was looking forward to watching, “And I.” But back to the test—-

I was the first person to sign up for an 8 a.m. appointment. The entire staff was ordered to be tested the day before, so I knew the nurses would have lots of practice with different noses. I filled out the proper paperwork with my very own non-contagious  pen, and the nurse approached me with a q-tip that looked as if it was on hormones. She shoved Excalibur up my nose, and then pulled it out of my ear. Luckily, I had left my hearing aids at home, so I couldn’t hear myself yelping. I learned that from the dogs on my walk.  She dismissed me with, “Now, that wasn’t so bad was it?” I don’t answer rhetorical questions, but all in all, I am happy that I took the test.

Hopefully, all will be well, and soon the nasal-poking nurse will be able to take wax out of people’s ears the normal way. In the meantime, I recommend that all of us make the most of the time we have while we are in. That is exceedingly  better than being permanently  out for the count.

Esther Blumenfeld

SPACED OUT

It’s not so encouraging when the best compliment I get all  day is, “That is such a beautiful mask you are wearing.”

No wonder E.T. wanted to go home, but this is our planet, and Mother Nature is playing nasty tricks on us—-one more time. Hopefully, scientists will get us out of this mess; sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we are stuck on Earth with nowhere else to go. It has been long speculated that the planet Mars might be a solution, if you don’t mind a six-month trip, and sharing a locality with a bunch of microorganisms.

When I was in high school, the science teacher insisted that there were only nine planets. She didn’t like it at all when I said, “Are you sure?” Now, astronomers report, based on Kepler space mission data, that there could be as many as forty-billion earth sized orbiting planets, and the nearest one is only about twelve light years away.  However, you might not want to buy your flight tickets yet, because one light year is about six trillion miles. However, that only works if “red dwarfs are included.” That makes sense, because if there is a habitable planet you’d want a red dwarf to warm it up.

Scientists are knocking themselves out to discover if there are any species out there that would resemble life on our planet. However, in the year, 2000, Geologist and Paleontologist Peter Ward and Astrobiologist, Donald Brownlee published a book, “Rare Earth: Why Complex Life is Uncommon in the Universe.” They think that; “Earth-like life is rare in the Universe, whereas microbial life is common.”  On the other hand, in 2010, Theoretical Physicist, Stephen Hawking warned that humans should not try to contact Alien life forms, because they might pillage the Earth for resources.”

 I’m sure no intruders from outer space could pillage the Earth any better than we do. I find it interesting that in Science Fiction Literature, most of the Extraterrestrial creatures manage to speak a bit of  English. Otherwise, how could we understand them? It is fascinating what some of these authors come up with. For instance, even if a creature has an orange hide, he can manage to look human, and then he can take over, and convince people that he is just one of the guys. Finally, someone really smart catches on and warns everyone, “This creature has a human form, but does not have human emotions!” Bummer! One more time, we have to save the Earth. We’ve done it before. We can do it again!

So, face it! In this vast Universe, right now, we are on our own, and we need to clean up our act. As far as a trip into space? Well, we can go up, but eventually we have to come back down, and face the future together.  And, what about Extraterrestrial Life?  Arthur C. Clarke said it best: “I’m sure the Universe is full of intelligent life. It just been too intelligent to come here.”

Esther Blumenfeld

IT'S ALL IN THE LANGUAGE

To begin with, I don’t speak Computer. However, I can manage bits of German and Spanish, and I am able to pray in Hebrew. I thought I was fluent in English until I was confronted with Computerese. I didn’t even know there was such a word!

Consequently, when I was notified that the Squarespace Security System on my website needed to be updated, I tried to contact, “Squarespace Computer Care”, and I was notified that their e-mail was no longer accepted, and that the phone number was no longer in use.  This foreshadowed a rocky future, since I had reached the limit of my expertise, and I realized that I would need help from an expert.  Unfortunately, because of COVID-19 no computer geeks were allowed to enter the premises.

Happily, I was informed that folks in the Community Life Department at my residence could help with computer problems, and that Ami, the beautiful art teacher, was also an expert in computers. She took pity on me, and was able to put me in touch with Squarespace.

April 6: “Thank you for getting in touch. Your site is built on our legacy platform Squarespace 5, so your case will be escalated to that team.” (GOOD!)  “Note: escalated cases can take more time to resolve—no matter how hard you pray even in Hebrew.”  (NOT SO GOOD!)

April 13: Not hearing from the “team” I wrote a letter to the CEO of Squarespace. In desperation, after citing my problem, I added, “In case it helps, my son went to the University of Maryland too.” He never answered my letter. So, I am sure that Mr. CEO graduated at the bottom of his class.

April 15: “Thank you for your patience.”( INHALE. EXHALE.) “I am your specialist, Katey. To add an SSL certificate on your site you need to first update your Domain’s DNS records. However, it looks like your records are mostly updated.” (THANKS TO BEAUTIFUL AMI.)
“But you need to remove the legacy A-record pointing to this value: 65.39.205.54.” (IS SHE KIDDING ME?) “Then once updated, set to ‘High’ which will generate an SSL certificate. However this won’t happen unless your Domain DNS settings are set up.”

“I hope this is helpful.”

April 17: “Thanks again for your patience” (KATEY GO SUCK AN EGG!) I can confirm you have done everything correctly. It should be okay in about 72 hours. Get back in touch so we can double check.”

April 20: Nothing changed. Back to aggravating Katey.

April 21: “Thanks again….After  consulting with our engineering team, it looks as if your Domain, GoDaddy is stopping this from processing. To resolve this, reach out to them to remove the CAA record from your account.  If you are interested you can read more about CAA records here: (I’D RATHER VISIT THE TRUMP PRESIDENTIAL LIBRARY.) Get back in touch if you have more follow-up questions.

April 27: At that I found the phone number of GoDaddy, the folks who preserve my website name,  and I contacted some kid hunkering down in his living room in Scottsdale, AZ. I told him my sad story and asked him to; “Please remove the CAA.” He said, “Yep,” “I can do that. It’s done.”

April 29: From Katey:  “Glad it’s working for you. Get back in touch if we can help with anything else. We’re always here to help you.”  
Some help! I haven’t read instructions like that since I read, “Double, Double Toil and Trouble” in Macbeth. Those witches would have been great with computers.

Esther Blumenfeld