The beautiful city of San Francisco, Calif., which gave us such wonderful treasures as Nancy Pelosi and America’s first Gay Day Parade, has now added another feather in its hat. It seems that San Francisco, by law, allows anyone to walk the public streets of San Francisco in the nude and to enter any business establishment that serves the public, nude as well.
My sister, who lives there, reports seeing a nude man at the movies and several nude dining patrons. At first blush, this law may almost sound exciting as one could imagine beautiful women walking naked throughout the streets of San Francisco. Unfortunately, it appears the people most likely to enjoy the benefits of this new law are men in their late 50s and older.
Last year, City Supervisor Scott Wiener (Could a guy be any more appropriately named?) proposed prohibiting nudity in restaurants and requiring unclad people to put a towel down before sitting bare-bottomed in public places.
San Francisco, reacted as only San Francisco could by staging a Nude-In. George Davis, 65 years old and former candidate for mayor, who often campaigned in the nude, said the law was “totally unnecessary.”
The Nude-In organizer was Mitch Hightower, 50 years of age, who — surprise, surprise — runs a pornographic website. He said, “It is about body acceptance, not politics.”
Maggie Cahill, 53-year-old bank employee, stated the obvious: “We want to know why it’s always the people who should not be naked who get naked.”
San Francisco has often been a trendsetter for the nation as a whole and I have great fear that this new trend may catch on. I don’t have any experience concerning naked people walking around public streets, malls and the movie theater. The closest I can come is during my teenage youth when, from time to time, someone would try to convince a group of mixed individuals to go skinny dipping at a pool or creek. Invariably, the only people who stripped down naked were a few dumb boys while no women participated. Or, at least no women that anyone wanted to see in a state of undress.
I always heard about parties where Miss Knockout Body Homecoming Queen stripped buck naked, stood on the diving board and practically advertised for a picture-taking session. Of course, I was never at any of these parties. Instead, I was at the party where Myrtle Mae Johnson, decided to return to the attire of Adam and Eve. Not a single thing about Myrtle Mae was attractive. Her mother resorted to showing people pictures of other children when she was a child. Descriptions of her usually included the term “a little stocky.” Descriptions of females that begin with the term “a little stocky” are not forebearers of good things to come.
Skinny dipping also led to the inevitable “bank walker.” A “bank walker,” is — how do I say this delicately — a man who walks around on the bank after skinny dipping because he is proud of his God-given endowment. There was nothing worse than to find out someone was having a wild pool party and Myrtle Mae Johnson and Big Ernie were both invited.
I’ve got enough problems in life without ordinances being passed so that everyone walks around naked. I don’t want to sit in a movie theater seat right after a naked Sammy, the UPS guy, leaves the theater. I don’t want to pick up a sandwich at Subway while Johnny Grease Monkey from the Quickie Lube enjoys a roast beef sandwich in the buff. I don’t want to be forced to cross the street each time I see Big Ernie headed down the side walk. I also don’t want to see Myrtle Mae, who has definitely now passed being called a “little stocky.”
I suppose I will continue to remain clothed. On the other hand, I guess packing for my next trip to San Francisco may be a lot easier.
Contact columnist T. Gamble at firstname.lastname@example.org.