Nudies Go Berserk.

It's a weird thing, to go away for a while. I'm out here, I don't have a lot of friends, I don't plan on making too many, and I couldn't be happier. I have been able to remove myself from the monotonous routine that my life had become and scrutinize the explanations for all the tedium. It's not that all you jerks at home were keeping me back or anything, in fact, it's likely the opposite, but it's that I have recently been able to take a step back from my life as I know it in Alberta and examine it thoroughly, breaking it down into its base elements and analyzing them with a sort of 20/20 vision that is known to be common in hindsight.

During this process, I've made some fantastic hypotheses, several of which have very applicable conclusions, and I've been undergoing some alterations to the way that my life is lived. It's pretty neat stuff, and I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to be out here. I'm also thankful to those of you that continually read my sporadic posts, to those of you that have emailed me, and to those of you that have been a great blessing in my life, without whom I could've been experiencing a lot worse than just monotony.

Thanks.

Alright, that's about enough of that gooey sh......ow of emotion, don't you think?

(Shoot, I lifted that line right out of Home Alone 2. I'm terribly unoriginal.)

Let's see, OH MAN! I totally forgot I was going to tell all y'all's about this. Ok. Here it is:

So, my compadre Neil and I were driving along in between mowing the other day, minding our own business and just being generally the yard-guy trash that we are, when we stumbled upon an incredible sight. First, let me set up the location. It was on Richter Street, a fairly major street in Kelowna, a lot of traffic, lots of houses, and an elementary school on the east side of the street. So, again, we're driving along, Neil with his eyes on the road, me with my eyes in my book, reading away, minding my own business, when I suddenly find my attention diverted from the page of my book by an astonished yelp from Neil. Naturally I looked to him for an explanation, but all he could do was point. I followed the direction of his extended index and at the end of the line I found myself staring directly at a pair of plump cheeks. No, my friends, not the cheeks of the facial region that are socially acceptable to be uncovered in public, but rather my eyes were resting, ever so briefly, on the slightly hirsute yet classically porcelain hindquarters of an obviously uninhibited man. Now, in a situation like that, one does not want to stare for an extended period of time, but there's always a little curiosity that urges one to steal as many glances as one can without being caught. So, being the naturally curious creature that I am (some of my friends call me 'Whiskers'), I chanced a few more peeks at the nudey, wondering what on earth was going through his head. As luck would have it, the nudey saw something that caught his attention, of course, in the opposite direction he was walking. Neil and I were fortunate enough to be treated to a full-frontal to go along with the backside we had earlier. He made no effort to conceal that which should be concealed, choosing instead to have it experience some fresh Kelowna air, and, in the process, allowing the sun to shine where it normally don't. Needless to say, my curiosity had been thoroughly quenched by the rear view, so I didn't bother to waste any more time sizing up the man, averting my eyes to the opposite side of the road, where, to my great amusement, I became aware of the elementary school. The sequence is now burned in my memory of a great number of school children peering through the chain-link fence, mouths gaping, (though not, by any means, in awe of the beauty of the nudey), while several teachers rushed around hastily attempting to cover all of their eyes at once while herding them back inside, all the while shouting, "Recess is over, recess is over!" The nudey, seemingly oblivious to all the going-ons around him, continued strolling casually along the lane, eventually stooping to pick up the object that had originally caught his eye. Ironically enough (or maybe thankfully), the item he so gracefully bent over to retrieve was nothing other than a dirty, old sock.

(Vaguely reminiscent of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, no?)

As the nudey rapidly faded into nothing more than a flesh-colored speck in the mirror, I became acutely aware of my love for this great town.

.D.S.