3.06 Yearnin' Learnin' (suck it,
@Yo Mama)
, Earth, Wind & Fire
I dont look good naked. Never have. 6'4, 48" shoulders; when trim my rib cage sticks out like a Biafran corpse; a hint of handles no matter how skinny; no butt at all (legs just make an ### of themselves); hairless legs (thx, Abenaki nation); patchy, matted body hair (thx, Leprechaun nation); even at my fittest, no cut, no flow and, to be honest, not a whole lotta dangle.
My first serious Albuquerque gf when i moved there in '79 hated clothes. Wonderful, non-traditional big-eyed gal and she looked better than a groupie nekkid. Like Jennifer Aniston, one could draw her entire figure using perfect circles and not have a bit of waste. A human glory. She was taking French Lit @ UNMex but spent all her time at some holistic institute learning massage and rolfing (she became a chiropractor). I was her practice dummy. Jenny would work, knead, lift & manipulate entire muscle groups and insist i remain unclothed as often as possible as her DaVincian doll of anatomy and movement. Our workaday was pretty much her flipping me over, back and around to the tune of the peppiest, sweetest album ever made - E,W&F's half-live, half-studio
Gratitude. Weekends, we'd go to the DHLawrence Ranch (30,000 acres of NM mountain paradise above Taos that the great author left to UNM for use of staff, of which i was one), and hike naked. She still reminds me in emails of all the pix she has of me in naught but hiking boots and zinc oxide paste (Señor Pepe is sun-sensitive).
It dont stop there. Streaking was a fad on campuses at the time - we lived in a college neighborhood (half a block, btw, from where Jesse Pinkman & Jane shot all dey smack on
Breaking Bad) - and Jenny realized we could use cover of the craze to log some public nekkid time. We'd put on Keds and drape new-fangled Walkmans across our torsos, cue each our copies of
Gratitude to be as synched as possible, and go jogging in our birthday suits. Should we encounter citizens, we'd just speed up to streaker mph and duck down into Old "Burque's system of alleys 'til we were again furtive.
If there's any healthier and happier memory than nekkid jogging with a sweet & spunky coed to syncronized Walkpersons thru the capital of the high desert, i dont and dont wanna know what it is. Yearnin learnin, indeed.