Ladies, do you remember the first time you saw a naked man? In person, not in a National Geographic or Play Girl magazine.
I was a child, and no, this is not one of those horrific child abuse stories. It is not about the sexual exploitation of children. I was never molested, yet the incident is as fresh in my mind as a small, hard brick of Bazooka chewing gum softening in my mouth at the age of eight.
My parents had taken us swimming in St. Charles, first time at a pool. My mom took me through the girls' changing room and my dad and brother went into the boy's changing room. I was amazed that we both exited out of those rooms and into the pool area simultaneously. We enjoyed clinging to the pool edge and wading. My dad supported my belly and tried to teach me how to swim. It was so exciting to be in over my head, yet so comforting to know my dad was there to hold me up when my toes could no longer touch bottom.
Dad, who had a tan, got out of the pool to take my brother to the bathroom and told me to wait in the wading pool. Mom must have gone in to change. I felt afraid and so I darted into the changing area. Oh my gosh! I had wandered into the boy's changing room. That MAN may have been a teenager, or he may have been a middle-aged man. I do not recall seeing his genitals. What I vividly recall is that guy's entire nude body was as pink as a wad of Bazooka chewing gum.
I was ushered out of there in a hurry. My parents talked in code on the way home about what they thought I had seen and wondered aloud if I had been traumatized by the exposure. Oh I was traumatized alright. From that day forward, I could not chomp on a chunk of Bazooka chewing gum, even though I did like the little waxed cartoon paper it was wrapped in. Thereafter, I chose Double Bubble gum wrapped in a twist of waxed paper instead.