When I was 5 or 6 I used to do this thing with my 3 younger brothers while we were changing called ‘Click Click Click’ where we’d be imaginarily taking pictures of each other naked, strictly for blackmail and humiliation purposes….We’d make like we were holding a Kodak Instamatic and just say click click click click as fast as we could. Looking back, it’s easy to see the evolution into the sick, twisted fucks we’ve all graduated into.
Yeah there was this time where we could all stand up in the back of the Ford station wagon, and all be dressed in navy shetland crew neck sweaters, white turtlenecks and dress stuart plaid corduroys for building mud walls to the sandcastles …we’d get the garden hose and bring it down to the beach and as it was on an incline we’d build these byzantine ziggurat empires… and my Dad would causally complain to no one in particular, that we were eroding the sand…a notion lost on us as the dump truck could magically drop another load as it invariably did at the start of each summer… How I wish I could still hold the worthlessness of money in such high disdain…It was paradise…could a burger and hot-dog and baked beans and corn-on-the-cob and homemade chocolate chip cookies be far away?
Bathroom time was a precarious time… as no one was safe as we’d all assume our positions around the toilet bowl…it was no contest, and a license to pee on each other. The question was: could you get away without having to fully change?
And Bath time, increasingly infrequent as we got older and ‘stubborner’ was always the scene of some tragedy…not that anything was premeditated, but in the land that time forgot to invent bath mats, someone would lose their grip and slid under the 6 inches of bathwater and come up choking…tragic…
I’ve pretty much eliminated the responsibility obstacles that plague grown ups, but I’ve yet to reattain that mythical obliviousness where money, clothes, food, friends and weather are just tertiary nuisances to the pursuit of pure pleasure. But I am undaunted