The Hardest Topic I've Ever Written About!

Ok, Here Goes...

The Hardest Topic I've EVER Talked About. 

(No Pun intended...) The topic of Erections, There, I said It!

~Warning!~ The text, pictures, cartoons, and entire subject of this blog MAY BE OFFENSIVE to some. In No Way am I trying to shove anything in anyone's face, or in any way be inappropriate, graphic, or sexual. But the topic is about erections, and all that goes with them... So you Have Been Warned. There is nothing visually graphic, except one cartoon. Read, Learn, Laugh, and Explore at your own desire... not because you are in any way forced-to. 

In writing my blog about the hitchhiker, I began to realize quite a few things I am still easily embarrassed about. Just when I thought I was comfortable in my own skin, and thought I had accepted almost every little quirk about my own body, I was suddenly faced with some of my own embarrassments. Writing about the hitchhiker, and the events that occurred because of her, I found how difficult it is, even for me to openly admit, let alone allow another to know or see certain things about myself. That blog was one of the hardest I have written, because it brings up so many emotions, and fears. I am a person who lives life with feelings. Often just simply writing about an event in my life brings those feelings I felt at that time to the surface now. Simply writing is not so simple. It is all about re-living, and experiencing those feelings, fears, emotions, and all that all over again. Often, this is The Most Difficult aspect of writing for me.

As I re-lived the events of The Hitchhiker those feelings, and the emotions that came with it, I began to realize that while I have made huge progress in moving forward in life, and accepting, even embracing much of what I am not comfortable with, I seemingly have regressed in some areas. Those areas are directly related to the fact that I have a penis. There, I said it. Yes, I have a penis. While in recent years, I have come a huge distance in not hiding the fact that I have never been happy to have been born with a penis, I still find that after 44 years, I cannot totally accept, or allow others to notice certain aspects of it. … Well, I guess it would not be accurate to say that it has been this way for 44 years (almost 45 now.) Because the first 12-years of my life, I never felt the need to hide my penis. The first twelve years of my life were easy in the penis department. So in all accuracy, I gotta say, it has been 32-years that I have been conflicted. (with a couple of brief-times during those where I actually learned to forget about the hang-ups.)

 Here Is A Funny Picture of Me... With My Wood :)

Ya know, It is actually funny how I am about my own naked-ness, and still feel I should hide my erections. This past year has been wonderful in my own growth, acceptance, and even welcoming of my body, the changes I see happening as I age, and finally allowing myself to admit it.

This photo is one Kim took recently when she and her hubby were at my home. The reason I chose this photo is because of the implied joke. (Yup, He's got wood. He's showing his wood. Bare, or Bear?) Any way you look at it, it is funny, and I welcomed her taking the photo. Her hubby thought it was hilarious, and welcomed me to be so free for his wife to experiment in her photography. I did not have an erection at this time, but we did talk later about what if I did? I am not fully-allowing anyone to see me in that way yet... But I am getting closer. Also in the past year, I have taken a few photos of myself, and actually not deleted them just because they showed me with a bit of erection. This is just another part of my growing, learning, and accepting of my own self. I am happy to have friends in my life who also welcome my own growth and explorations.

What Exactly Embarrasses Me?:

Two areas of mortification, humiliation and embarrassment involving my penis are: how and when I get an erection, and how I feel about it. Yep. I said it. It has taken me 44 years to publicly say it. (well ok, maybe a little less since I did not talk for probably the first year…) I often have written, or spoken, but only cautiously mentioned an erection as “a reaction”.  It is kinda odd, and funny… that someone who loves to be naked is embarrassed to admit, or to allow another to see he has an erection. Even as a non-sexual being, I am not able to be so sure my erection would not be viewed as sexual, or offensive…. Yet I know from experience that those who have seen, felt, or even purposely caused it have shown me that I have nothing to be embarrassed about. Wow. My own fear of even writing the word is (no pun intended) huge and hard to grasp. I wrote it four times in this paragraph. The first time was almost impossible, The second, third, and fourth were not easy. Each time I wanted to write “reaction” instead. I would have to search everything I have ever written, but to my best recollection, the only time I have used that word was when I would describe those who behaved badly, and intentionally wanted to have others see their own erection. (Ha! I first started to write “reaction”) But I have Never purposely used the word to describe my own penis…. Thus the conflict I have… is mostly within my own mind. I probably had to use the word in 9^th grade health class to pass a test about sex-ed, but that was totally different. It was not talking about me... and it totally was related to sexuality.

Do I Like Erection(s)?:

(It would seem that if someone was non-sexual, they also would not enjoy an erection, right? Nope!):

Now don’t get me wrong, I Absolutely DO Enjoy my erections. I just can’t grasp (Pun not intended) the notion of it in any way being sexual. IF I never have an orgasm, I would be fine with that. Give me an erection, and just remove all the sexual-ness that goes along with it, and I would be happy! The problem I have is in admitting it, or allowing another to see it. Why have I gotten so I absolutely do not want anyone to see, or notice I have one? As an adult, often in life, I have had close female friends who would share a bed with me. Yup! I got erections, even though there was never anything sexual between us, and often, I would do almost anything I could to be sure it was not noticed… (roll-over, lay on m,y front, wear two-pair of underwear, scoot my hips back so I was not poking her...) even though they would express “it was ok”, or “I don’t mind”. To me, I somehow had connected an erection with sexuality, and absolutely did not want them to think it was sexual, or intended as sexual. The worst was if I shared a bed with a friend, and got one, tried to make it not-noticeable, but they would purposely snuggle-into it, not attempting to make it sexual, or take it any further, just showing me they were ok with it, and I should be too. I would be mortified, but at the same time notice they were not. But why was (am) I always so embarrassed by it? I did not used-to be. There have been occasional friends (Non-girlfriend-type) who I have allowed, and welcomed an erection. It still baffles me, and I cannot yet find logic, reason, or valid thoughts to say why this is sometimes acceptable for me, and other times it is not. Eventually, I might write more about each person who I have felt so safe and comfortable with, but for now, there is only one I have written about. That was when I lived in Virginia. I write in much detail about her (Jill) in my Blog about “Naked on the Roof For Memorial Day”.

I Hate Sex:

(How does That Compare with Drugs and Alcohol?)

It is no secret that I absolutely hate sex. To quote a friend, when we were recently having this discussion, her shocked, yet humorous response was: “Wait. You’ve Had Sex, and Do Not Like IT!?!??”  I laughed, and appreciated her candor. To her, the notion of not liking sex was unheard-of by anyone who had actually had it, especially by a male! That kind of statement was reserved for those who had never had it, or for those who had only bumbled around a bit, not yet having gotten a true understanding of it. No, I am not a virgin. I have definitely had experience, understanding, and know what sex is, and how so many people absolutely love it. Also, in our society, it creeps people out when I state I am non-sexual. For some reason, it is widely accepted, and welcomed for all to openly state how much they love sex, and to have one person (Me) state the opposite, it creeps them out, and they do not know how to react to that. The only way I can compare my hatred of sex is to compare it to Drugs, or even Alcohol. But in our society, most do not understand that comparison either. Seemingly, most people cannot understand how I absolutely hate the way any alcohol, or drug makes me feel, yet most people feel the opposite. While most will openly admit and tell the world about their alcohol consumption, most will hide anything to do with their drug-consumption. (The subject of drug-consumption, abuse, and even what would or would not fall into this category is quite lengthy, and would be a post, or several all in itself. For now, I just mention it as comparison.) Most will say they do not do drugs, but will do them in secret, but will tell you once you have gained their trust. I do not do drugs one bit… At all. And this baffles most. But it is the same with sex. I don’t secretly have sex, and just claim that I don’t. I flat-out hate sex, and will not have it.

As a Child, I always said “Why Would Anyone Want To Have Sex?”:

From as early an age as I could recall, I never could see the desire for anyone to have sex. I could not grasp why anybody would ever want to create another human, nor mix their bodily fluids like that. From as early as I can remember, I never liked the idea of another’s bodily fluids combining with mine. (But, of course, there were exceptions) I also could not image why anyone would find sex to be appealing. By the age of five, I was adamant about all the reasons people should not create babies. I had connected 'sex' with baby-making, and to me, that was absolutely nothing I wanted anything to do with. (But as long as it was simply play, but not sexual, it was ok in my mind. The fine-line was if it mimicked the act of making a baby.) People often were baffled, and assumed I was just repeating what I’d heard others say. But my parents, grandparents, and anybody else in my life all insisted these were my own thoughts, and beliefs. This was easily proven since nobody could find anybody that had the same views as I did, so it would be difficult to have copied another’s words. They would be baffled that I had such strong feelings at such a young age, but in further inquiries, they learned my reasons, and the facts to which I based my opinions. I knew that the main purpose for God to have created humans in the way which our bodies were made, the way they were was so a male and a female could make a baby. No, I was not taught this in a church, or religious setting. I knew this from seeking all the understanding I could about how our bodies function.  I sought learning about everything I came across in life. Humans were one of many things I tried to understand. I was especially always seeking knowledge about humans, and how our bodies worked, because from birth, I had health issues the doctors were baffled by. From birth I learned much of how my own body functioned was not at all like any other, and my mind also was different. I was always told they could not figure out my body, nor my mind. Doctors could only copy what they were shown based on how other humans were made. I was not made like another human.

What about God?:

(And how does God have anything to do with My own Erections?)

Hehe... Master The Art... :)

Conflicting as it was for my own being, I knew who God was, and I was created special, absolutely unique. Most are unique in the fact that their own personality is not like others. My uniqueness was to the core. My senses, how I learned, how food worked, or did not, and even what I thought felt good compared to any other was completely unlike any other. I was created to seek a deeper understanding, feel, and see things differently, and to react to these things differently than most were. What felt good to others did not make me feel the same. My wiring was not at all like any other I met. This conflicted and confused me hugely. Everything I ever learned did not match what others learned. I was confused about much that existed in life. God was a huge confusion, conflict, and bafflement (is that a word?) Because while I Knew God, I also wanted to deny God existed. (Ha! But the subject of My Knowing God is an entirely different subject, and likely many posts all in themselves.) But I Knew without a doubt God had made me to feel, see, and react differently than any other ever created…. But I totally wanted to deny God existed, too. I would later learn that God Created me as a non-sexual being, so I could be The Safe Person in others’ lives. God created me this way so I was not a threat in the sexual-department for those who otherwise had found any penis to be a bad thing. I learned I was created this way so even those who had only found that a penis was a threat, or to be used in a bad-way could find peace, understanding, and learning about what was otherwise feared. (And I’ll bet you were wondering how God in any-way connected to my erections?... I will get to that later, likely a separate post in itself… But I learned that even with my own views of my erections, there would be times when someone was placed in my life that needed to learn in a safe, non-threatening environment about erections. Turns out, I learned, too!)

Why Did I Hate The Idea of Sex?:

My logic, and understanding about the purpose of sex likely shaped my feelings toward sex, sexuality, and how it made me feel, act, and react. But it goes much deeper than just a belief about baby-making.  I truly believe God did not want me to be a sexual being. Could this be because of my views on baby-making? Could this be because of my views on bodily fluids? Possibly. But I will never know for sure. To know that sex is a primary function needed for making babies, the likeliness of that being the reason I could never find good in it is highly likely, but I doubt that is the root of it. But also, I have discovered my own wiring makes what feels good to others not feel good to me. So, it clearly is a dislike of not only the idea of making babies, but also to the core of my own body, and how sex feels to me. To me there is nothing pleasant about sex, and I cannot grasp why anyone would want to feel like that. 

One thing I have discovered is intimacy, or sensuality is completely different than sex. I also have discovered most people do not know the difference, and my mention of it confuses them. To most intimacy, or sensuality is also sexual. There is a huge difference! To me, if you can share sensuality, and intimacy with someone, it is much more meaningful, delightful, and uplifting than any sex ever could be. To connect with someone in a sensual-way, to have an intimacy, an understanding, and a connection that could never be reached with sex… THAT, to me is The Absolute Best Feeling To Achieve! The feeling of being so close, trusted, and safe with another that you can touch, feel, learn, and explore, but have no sex... Yup! I'll take that any day! Ya want sex? Go find someone else.

~As I write, I have my own battles that go on inside my own mind that if I listened, I likely would never reveal any of my true feelings... Fortunately, I ignore those distractions... Mostly.~

THE DISTRACTIONS IN MY MIND THAT CAUSE ME TO NOT SAY WHAT I FEEL:

This is not easy at all to write, but I am feeling inspired, and must get it out while the mood is right… some of this may be considered taboo, or even one of those “best left unmentioned”… I may even delete parts of this later, but for now, I feel I gotta write as it feels right...

Welcome Touch, Exploration, and Learning as a Young Boy:

(Some say it is Taboo, or Forbidden to ever touch…But would you agree a child should learn... and hopefully in a safe, trusted environment rather than finding the answers they seek in an unhealthy way?)

I remember how as a young boy, many of us would happily be naked, even openly touch, feel, and play with others. We understood from an early age when it was allowed and when it was not. Naked play, touch, understanding, and discovery were just simply part of learning, growing, and understanding. Yes, both boys and girls… and dare I mention also older people, too. It was not just us “little kids”. I was fortunate that many of my friends’ parents, my grandparents, and even an aunt by marriage were all safe, encouraging comfortable people. Also interestingly enough, There was absolutely no openness, no touch, and no “play” allowed on my Dad’s side of the family. The idea of anyone seeing anybody even partially naked on his side of the family was unheard of. (But my Dad did not care if anyone was naked, touched, or not… just his family was weird about it.) On My Mom’s side, it was Very Open… Yet my Mom was the one who had the most hang-ups about it. (I cover some of those oddities in posts about “Naked Freedom as a Child, Then Lost”). But even though Mom had hang-ups about it, She Also was one of The Most Positive, supportive, and open, too! We had many neighbors, family-friends, community-groups, camps, and places where touch, learning, and exploration in a safe-environment were welcomed, accepted, and not-at-all-shameful.

What was Acceptable?:

(Dare I Say who touched, and when?? Or is that Taboo?):

I learned as a very young boy that for some reason almost any girl, or woman really liked to have little boys they could give an erection to. But they were picky about which boys they would do this with. I was one they enjoyed to “play” with…  and I did not mind one bit! But they would absolutely not go near some boys’ penises, because of how that boy behaved. Of course, it worked-out that the friends I had who were boys, also fit into this same group. The ones who were creepy did not become my friend, nor would they want me as theirs. Those were the ones no girl ever wanted to be around. This was most definitely true among girls our own age, and the ones just a few years older. But it was not limited to the girls. I learned that if you were willing, and open, it was perfectly acceptable for almost any age of woman to find joy in this. It never felt wrong, bad, or weird. It was never done in a “secretive way”, or hidden. I never really understood why it was acceptable for any girl or woman to give an erection, and even have their friends do the same to a young boy, but it was taboo for them to do the same with any teenaged boy, or a man. I later learned that as long as a boy only had “Phantom Ejaculations” it was totally acceptable. It would all change after a boy could have real ejaculations. (I’ll get back to that later).That was why when the boys were older, it was looked as sexual, instead of just good, clean, safe fun. I also would learn that even once a boy could ejaculate, it was still safe, harmless, and fun as long as it was not taken to that point. But most boys wanted it to be taken to that, instead of just enjoy the erection, and safe play. But this baffled me, and likely helped shape my own views as to why I went into hiding with my own erections as I grew-up. While it was always accepted that a girl, or woman of any age was allowed to give a boy an erection, it was not always the same when it involved older boys, or men. Yep! I willingly admit there were some boys and men who I totally trusted, and never made me feel uncomfortable in any way. (And, No… My own Dad never was interested in this touch at all. He was safe, trusted, and never creepy, but he simply never cared about anybody’s penis. Sometimes, this confuzzled me, too, since I could not understand why he accepted any of this, but would never be part of it.) Some boys and men were completely safe, and never a bad thing, but there were those who were the opposite, too.

Who Were The Creepy Ones?

(The ones who were not safe, and could not be trusted):

Some boys, and men were absolutely creepy, and gave off a feeling that was not to be trusted. I got rid of friends fast, and stayed away from men who would be creepy in this area. (But some were family, and I was forced to be around them …) It was always easy to tell which were the safe ones, and which were the creeps. The safe ones never felt they needed to be secretive, hide, or never be like this when others were around. The safe ones never did anything that made you uncomfortable. It was the creepy ones who wanted to be secretive, or do this in hiding, or have you do things you were not comfortable with, even telling you to “never tell anyone”. Simply put, if someone felt they had to hide their activity, or acted different because others were around, they could not be trusted. I grew up in a very comfortable, open, mostly safe environment. We learned healthy touch, exploration, and observation. The human body was in no way shameful, or even anything that needed to be hidden. But if the occasional creepy one made me uncomfortable, I made sure they knew they were never allowed near me again. This was awkward when it involved a relative, but usually those relatives would make themselves very distant at family functions. The most creepy, and hardest to ever be around were my own brother, and an uncle on my Mom’s side.  They knew they were creeps, but also thrived on this behavior, so they were often torn in their own minds about how to function, or how to hide their desires. They knew many would allow their creepiness, yet I would absolutely not, and even speak-out boldly against them, so they often would attempt to bribe me, or worse, scare or bully me into not saying anything. My brother would go so far as to have his friends attempt to beat me up, bully me, or make my life miserable, all because I would not submit to their creepy ways. It was tough with my uncle, because my family always sent me on camping trips with him. He would attempt to spoil me rotten, giving me all the camping, skiing, and wonders of nature he knew I absolutely loved. My family knew how much he creeped me out, but also knew I loved nature, and that he always wanted to take me along, so it was a struggle for most of my youth. But it was not just those two. There were others in our neighborhood, and community. While I absolutely loved my freedom of nakedness, when the creepy ones were around, I would never be naked, and do anything I could to be sure an erection never showed if they were around. (This, too helps me understand why I went into always hiding my own erection… simply to not attract the creeps!) This began as early in life as I could recall. I always tried to figure out the connection between an erection, and when it was safe, comfortable, and no problem, and when it should be hidden.

Safe and Unsafe People:

I did not have many friends that were boys, but the few I did have were as eager as I was to learn, and discover. We seldom objected to have the girls want to see if they could cause an erection. (It was seldom that they could not!) Heck, even us boys enjoyed giving each other erections. As long as nobody was made to feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or felt harmed in any way, we were free to discover, learn, and explore as much as we could. As long as it was not suddenly made sexual, but simply just an erection, I never got creeped-out by my own, or by any of the friends I had. But the moment one of them would suddenly start to see it as sexual, I would never again be able to be friends with that boy. It is no secret my hatred toward my brother and how he treated me. But I noticed it was not just my own view. None of the girls I was friends with, or the neighbor girls would be naked near him, or ever touch him in that way. We had our share of babysitters growing-up. Most of the baby sitters got the same impression. He made them uncomfortable, so it was difficult to get baby-sitters to return again. (Occasionally, he found a sitter that thought he was perfect in all his creepy ways. Needless to say, my sister and I did not like those sitters.) Nobody could ever figure out why he insisted on being so creepy, and it made many situations very uncomfortable. He had plenty of friends, and was popular… among boys, but the boys who were my friends also felt very uncomfortable around him.

When A good Friend Turns Bad:

(When Innocent play with Donuts ‘n Peanut Butter turns to porn.)

I remember when I was eight, a neighbor boy had me come over after school, because he wanted to show me something that he thought would help me understand his recent changes that I objected to.  We were previously close friends, but in recent months, I had told him I did not feel comfortable near him.

I was often at this boy’s house, and naked, and even erections were never an issue. His older sister was 12, and often played in the same way with us. His dad was always upstairs, (never naked) and seldom interacted with us, but did not care if we were naked, or not. His mom was around, too, but it seemed recently she was always away at work. She interacted with us, and never saw our play as anything but good, safe, normal play. She was totally comfortable and safe. We often saw her naked, and it was never an issue, either. The Mom was never interested in causing an erection, but seemed happy enough to watch, often tease us as we caused our own. One of the joys of this mom was that she liked to encourage us, and even offer various foods to play with, or put on our bodies, and likewise encourage us to get creative in how we snacked, or removed those foods. (Yup, donuts fit nicely on a young boy’s erection. Peanut Butter was hilarious at how much fun it was to apply, and how much work it took to remove.) The sister was definitely part of our normal play, and often would purposely give us erections. I always found it strange that the mom was more interested, and always grinned a bit more whenever her daughter would be playing with either of us. The mom enjoyed our erections and play, more when her daughter would do this, compared to when we did it ourselves. At that age, I did not understand this, but found it curious. The mom was the one who would suggest to the daughter different things she could try to see how we would react. To us, it was normal, and nothing to be ashamed of. Of course we totally welcomed it! It also was not kept secret from anyone else. We were open, and felt we had no reason to hide any of this, since we were not doing anything wrong.

They lived in some condos that had shared backyards. The entire set of condos made a circle around the common yard, or as we called it the backyard. Instead of a private fenced yard behind one house, it was a private fenced yard behind about ten houses. The back-fence of the common area was against a shopping center. In the back yard, it was considered a safe place to play whether naked, or clothed. We got naked, and ran around like we normally would, even in this common-setting, an erection was not a bad thing, as long as it was not done in a creepy way. All the neighbors knew one another, and there was never any trouble. There were other kids, too, and we all did the same here. That was just part of getting along socially. Often, if we got especially messy with food, we would be made to go outside, and there we could be as messy as we wanted, then just hose ourselves off. I had known them for many years, and none of us were uncomfortable with each other.

It seemed that in the recent months, it was like there were never parents at their house, and my friend began to act weird with his own erections, and get scary in the way he acted. His sister saw a difference in her brother, too. We both were uncomfortable around him now. Of course she had been growing and developing, but until recently, this had never become an issue. It was normal, and we all saw it with many of our friends. But in the recent moths, she began to stop playing, teasing her little brother because of how he was suddenly reacting toward her own changes. But she never stopped teasing me. She told me her little brother had changed, and he now was creepy, and had begun to develop enough that now he ejaculated, too, instead of just having ‘phantom ejaculations’, and this made her uncomfortable. As she began to develop, and also when he began to act creepy with his desires, she no longer wanted to encourage him like that, she would come to my house without him, or often we would be together at another neighbor’s home, in their courtyard, or any other place as long as her brother was not around.

To me, she was never a problem, and I enjoyed her. I never treated her any different as she developed. She was not the first girl I’d grown-up around. To me, she was a good friend, and I could not imagine being so rude just because someone’s body was growing up. I also noticed the few times I saw her dad around her when she was naked, and how he, too acted differently towards her and her newly forming breasts. Her brother seemed to want her attention more when he was naked, and often would grope her newly developing breasts, and rub his erect penis against her, and this made her uncomfortable, and made me uncomfortable, too. I could not understand the sudden changes I was seeing in him and their dad towards her. Suddenly, they both had a mean-almost hurtful look in their eyes as they looked at her now. To me, they were very disturbing, and I could see she was not comfortable with this either. She began to go into hiding her body. I told the dad he was being rude, and he got mad at me. I told my friend I was not comfortable in how he treated his sister now, and did not like being around his sudden changes. It seemed his mother was never home anymore. He also behaved different with his own nakedness even when she was not around. I had stopped going over there, because of how he acted.

I had discussed my concerns with anyone who would listen. Mostly, though my concerns were dismissed and never really went anywhere. This frustrated me, because I could see how this was trouble, and nobody else would believe me. People would reply and say things like “He’s just growing-up. That is what happens.” I disagreed, because I saw how the changes in him were turning bad, not just growing-up. I’d been around plenty of boys, and this one was not acting like he was simply growing-up. I knew they would just have to see for themselves, and again they would be amazed at how I knew before anyone else did.

It had been a while since I had gone to his house when he was there. This particular afternoon, his dad was not home. His sister was home, but not naked. He was acting weird, so I did not feel comfortable getting naked this time, just like many of the recent times I was near him. He had changed, and was no longer comfortable. He did, though, and immediately got an erection. The look in his eyes changed, and he scared me. He made it a point to rub against his sister before we went out the back door. I was disgusted. He also groped her breasts through her shirt and bra. She shoved him away, and I saw a fire in his eyes that was not good. He stormed out the back door, telling me follow him, so I would understand. He was parading around with his erection, and a wild look in his eyes. This was not something I enjoyed one bit. A few neighbors scorned him for how he was acting, but he no longer cared about what was right anymore. I did follow him though in hopes that I might gain understanding of what this was all about. I knew who He used-to-be, and I still grasped at the idea that he might return to the person everyone loved, and he used to be a trusted friends, so I hoped I could find an answer. (I was not  unaware of what changes happen to humans, and how they see things sexually that they did not previously, but to see someone I had shared so much with suddenly behaving in such a bad way baffled me. I knew the difference in a good way of accepting the changes, and a bad way. He was definitely not behaving in a good way.To me, it looked like he was behaving just like my brother, my uncle, and so many others I could not stand.)

We got to a section of the sidewalk fairly hidden by some bushes, and away from the other homes, against the back fence where the shopping center was. He squatted down, and pulled up a metal drain cover. Inside this drain, was a bundle wrapped in plastic. He got a really scary-look in his eyes as he did this. He pulled the bundle out, replaced the drain cover, and led me under the bushes. As he unwrapped the plastic, I could see what he had. He had a pile of magazines featuring naked women, and also naked men having sex with naked women. Basically, it was porn. As he opened them, the wild look got more scary. He shoved picture after picture in front of me. I was disgusted. He was thrilled. He was doing things with his own erection that made me very uncomfortable. I’d seen people having sex before, and to me it was simply that. Two people having sex. I could not imagine that it would be anything exciting for somebody to watch, or that in any way someone would want pictures of it, or somehow find it to be a thrill. I could not see how pictures in a magazine were exciting, or in any way something anyone would want to look at, let alone somehow be anything to get turned-on sexually about. He was beyond the point of talking to him. To him, suddenly this was the most important thing in the universe. He was beyond just a little-boy getting a cheap-thrill from looking at naked pictures. He had a scary-look in his eyes, and was not the friend I used to know. He continued to play with himself, and tried to get me to do the same to him. I refused. I grabbed those magazines, and threw them away from him. I shoved him backwards and asked why he thought this was so cool. He said, “Don’t you see? We could do that with my sister!” I was beyond astonished, and disgusted. He did not care about anything but what he was doing with himself. He made himself ejaculate, and almost got it on me, too. The look in his eyes was not of a friend, or even of a human who cared about any other human. I told him he was a disgusting person and I never wanted him around me again. I ripped up his magazines, and headed out. He did not care about me, or that I was leaving. He chased down his torn-up magazines. I had to go through their house to get outside.

As I went back, one of the neighbors who happened to be a registered “safehouse” on the block was coming out her back door. I told her what he was doing, and how disgusted I was. She told me others had just come to her to complain also, and that was why she was coming outside… to see what he was doing. She told me she would take care of it. I knew that meant she would call the police, because that sort of thing was not at all acceptable. She went back into her house. I went inside, and his sister asked me what was wrong. I told her. She hugged me, and apologized for how he had done that to me. She told me he had done that to her also, and that’s all he can think about now, and how her dad looks at her in the same creepy way. I felt horrible and wanted to throw up. How could anybody look at their own daughter, or sister like that? How could her brother somehow think he was behaving in a good way? We were both disgusted, and decided to go to the park and away from her brother, and the police that were on their way. We already knew he would blame us for the way he acted, instead of accepting his own actions were what got him into trouble.

The lady from the safehouse came to the park to tell us it was safe to return. She told us their mom was with him where they had taken him. She told us the boy had been yelling as they hauled him away about how he hated me, and his sister for doing this to him. We could not believe that he somehow thought his own bad-behavior somehow was our fault. After talking to many people about this, I learned that day that when people get the notion of sex in their brains, that is the most important thing to them, and no way it could be them misbehaving, it is someone else’s fault for their own troubles. They took him to “Juvi” (or Jeuvenile Hall). That was where they took kids who got into trouble with the law. I knew he would not be at school after that, and would be made to go to a strict school that handles out of control kids. His sister continued to be my friend, and thanked me for stepping-in like that. After a few days, her brother was released, and allowed to live at home, but he was on a strict-grounding, and had to follow very strict rules, plus go to special classes to teach him how to behave appropriately. Their mother had changed her work schedule to make sure she was always home when the boy was. The police warned the dad that if he acted that way towards the daughter again, he would be arrested, too. The girl had to stop being naked at home, to keep her dad or brother from doing anything wrong towards her. It was sad. She still had her naked freedom everywhere else, just not at her own home. At her own home, she had to lock her bedroom, and bathroom door, so they would not come-in. She had to hide her body all the time at her own home, because her dad and brother did not know how to behave. All the people in the neighborhood, and the schools knew what the boy and dad had done. It served as a good lesson to everyone to not be creepy about their sexual desires.

I actually was glad the boy forced the issue on me, or the girl would have likely been harmed horribly. Who knows how many people saw what he did, and decided not to do the same thing? She and I remained friends, just never at her house. She was in my life until I turned twelve. She was 16. We moved from that neighbor hood when I was ten, and only occasionally returned over the next two years. She was driving the last time I saw her, and even had a boyfriend. She (and her friends) still enjoyed giving me erections any chance they got, and I never once looked at her differently. They were trusted friends, and in no way was I ever made to feel anything shameful, or embarrassed by them. I also could not grasp the notion of anybody wanting to have sex. Sure, the erections were good, but why would I want to ruin a good thing? I was just a little kid to her… but one she grew up with, and could still “play” with in a harmless way. One of her friends teased me one day and asked how I felt about them being “cock-teases”. I had to admit I did not know what that meant. They weren’t sure they should tell me since I did not know, and was “just a kid”. They explained what it meant. I laughed, and told them they were hardly teasing anything. From their definition that would mean that any boy they gave an erection to was somehow expecting to have sex, or to have an orgasm. I told them I thought it was silly that anyone would think that just because he had an erection, they should have something more. They explained that most boys and all men think they should, and I was different. They explained why I was safe, and they could be free around me. That was why they liked to have me around. They explained that most boys their own age, were always interested in sex, and glad I would not at all grow up to be like them. I agreed. I liked that I was always safe for the girls. She thanked me over and over for helping her.

I have no doubt that behaviors like this helped to form my own views about why an erection should be hidden. But at the same time, I have soo many more events to share, and that have actually been positive, happy, and in no way bad.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This post is becoming quite lengthy, and I feel if I wait until I have written all I need to say, it will be an entire book. So I have chosen this point to break-it-off. No worries! I will continue my thoughts on erections, my own feelings, experiences, and discoveries about why I have chosen to hide my own… and how I am slowly learning to accept who I am, and allow others to see me in that way, too.

I know ending this where I did does not create any conclusion… and leaves it quite hanging. I guess that is a good thing, right? I have no choice, but to return to post more… (UPDATE: I Have written a second part to this. You can see it here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2013/02/erections-when-i-was-little-boy.html

Meanwhile, enjoy your own erections, see what causes them, and be not afraid to openly admit it… Just don’t be creepy about it! 

The Places We Go

The places we Go…

No, Not as in… where Our Lives take us… But rather, Where We Choose to take care of relieving ourselves in life. 

Gotta Pee?

We, as Humans make normal, natural functions way too complicated. More specifically, where we blow our noses, spit, pee, and dare I even mention… Go Poop!?

Ya know it is funny, how we as humans have so many hang-ups about natural functions. Yep! I fully admit I have my own hang-ups about the human ways, my own included.

But I have pondered how to address this topic long enough! The time has come to let-it-all out (no pun intended).

You might ask what triggered my desire to actually finally put into words? Well, many things, actually! I have been trying to find the right way to bring it up for many, many years. I have always found that this topic seems to be one that is considered taboo, or off-limits, except to a rare, few close friends. I actually have written about this topic many times, but only briefly, not allowing myself to fully- open-up the barriers I have put up around my own life. I even have gone so far as to write at least a dozen starter-blogs about it, but never could find the right words, feeling, or motivation to continue. I even have read a few blogs from friends addressing similar topics… and have noted that my own writings are very different, and wanted to finish telling my own story… but never did.

I recently moved into a new apartment, and because it is so tiny, there really is no secrecy, or privacy when others come to visit… this would include how easily any sounds created in the bathroom are heard throughout the apartment.  I told myself that at my new place, there will be no hiding of who I am, and what I believe. I told myself I would be open, and not ashamed one-bit. I told myself I would be bold, and those who accepted me in their lives would do so, regardless of what I had not yet told them. I told myself I would live my life in my new home as I did when nobody else was there to see. I told myself that anyone who visited me also would accept me for who I was, or they would not be here in the first place. This thought-process also helped me to finally write about the most-forbidden topic of erections. (Although as of right now, I still have not published that one.)

Well, Yesterday, a friend was over, and I had to go pee while she was here. I closed the bathroom door (well, what would sorta- qualify as a door…) And pee’d in the toilet. Even as I did this, I was asking myself why I would do something so completely different just because a friend was here? She commented while I was peeing about "Well, at least I know your Prostate is healthy!" Meaning she obviously could hear every sound from the tiny bathroom just feet from where she sat. Then today, when I had to laugh about the aroma of the fresh-brewed coffee, (read about that  Here ), only to realize it was while I was peeing in the sink, while bushing my teeth, did it hit me, that I was not being true to myself… nor to my friends. You say, “Wait, What!? Did I just read that right??” Yup, you did. I will get back to that later. For now, the more important issue is why have I chosen to hide who I am? (I already know that answer, as I am sure you do… We fear what others may think. Plain and simple, we live in fear.)

If I was outdoors with a friend, say hiking, or someplace that was not in the middle of a city, it would not be abnormal to just go pee, without a toilet, or even a door to close, not worrying one bit if anyone saw me, or if I pee's in front of them. So, why do I close a door, or even use a toilet in my own home when another is here, but I would not do the same when home alone?

While I have many hang-ups about having been born with a penis, and all the inconveniences which a penis creates, I also admit there are benefits. One of those benefits is the fact that I can pee standing up… hehe, or dare I mention… while laying down, sitting, or even while upside down?! Yup! Having a penis makes going pee very easy, often fun, and even sometimes entertaining. (Wanna read a funny-version of why God gave man a penis? Here’s a blog I wrote about that: Here: )

I learned as soon as I was out of diapers that I did not need a toilet to go pee. I loved to be outdoors, and seldom went inside just to go pee. Anyone who was around me knew this about me. The trouble was in learning how and when it was appropriate. It baffled me how hung-up some people were about this. It took a while, but I finally got a balance, and understood what, and when was accepted, and what and when was not. I even learned at an early age how and where I could pee, even indoors, without having to use the toilet. (Toilets, and the way many people allowed them to be filthy always disgusted me. I would go to great lengths to always aim appropriately, and Never miss my intended target. The thought of having to go pee where others had made a mess made me sick to my stomach.)

A lot of boys like to pee at the same time, using the same toilet. They find it fun, and do not care if their pee splatters on each other, or outside the toilet. I always found that disgusting. I could not, and would not ever pee with another like that. Ironically, though, I could easily share a toilet with any female friend. Yup, as little kids, we discovered how a girl could sit, scoot back on the seat, and allow me to pee into the toilet in front of her, while she pee’d sitting down. Of course, my girl-friends already knew I would Never get any on them! This is what made it acceptable, and fun! The girls who were my friends felt the same way I did about the way most boys behaved about pee… It disgusted them. That is how we could be so close, and share such an event… we had a mutual understanding that pee was never to be on another, or ever outside the intended target. 

Inside the bathroom, if I was faced with a disgusting toilet, I discovered the shower, the bathtub, or even the sink (with a step-stool) were easily used. I could easily aim at the drain, and use the water to wash it all down, and nobody would complain. Nobody who ever saw me do this when I was a child would have a problem with it. I also learned where and how it was appropriate to go outside. I knew not to pee where anyone would walk, or where it would stain, or even be smelled by others. I knew to not go where someone would sit, or play. This included swimming pools. I understood what a clean pool was… whether a small wading pool, or a big public pool. It did not matter, I would never pee in one. (Rivers, streams, ponds, lakes, and oceans were completely different, though.) Basically, I learned to go where it would never be a problem for anyone else.

But what about other bodily wastes?? Yup, those, too! ~Grin!

WHAT ABOUT SPIT?:

I always hated how and where people would spit. I found it to be disgusting that others would spit where someone would step in it, or touch it somehow. I learned to spit in places where it would never be stepped-in, touched by another, or cause a problem for anyone. Yup, I spit. But I spit into a bush, into the dirt, or against a corner of something that would not be obvious, touched, or unsightly. I never would spit on a lawn, because people like to sit, lay, and play in the grass. I was disgusted how others would spit in the lawn, and not think about who would later get that spit on them. If I was on concrete, if I had to spit right then, I would be sure to spit into a crack, or in a corner, where it would never be seen, or touched by anyone. In many cities, spitting on the sidewalk was illegal (although they seldom cite for this anymore, I still could not fathom spitting on a sidewalk.) If I needed to spit while I was on a sidewalk, I made sure to get it into a crack, Never on the surface!  Spitting while swimming? That totally depends on what kind of spit, and what the environment is. If the pool is properly chlorinated, a bit of spit will not be a problem. (Provided it is simply spit, not globs of snot!)

WHAT ABOUT SNOT?:

Snot, boogers, or whatever you want to call it, it happens.  I have my hang-ups about this, too. Many people do not, and that has always disgusted me. Even as a child, the notion of picking your nose, or wiping it on a sleeve, or other clothing was just not acceptable. The worst, is when I see boogers wiped (or flicked!!) on a bathroom wall! People, there is tissue right there! I know a lot of people seem to think that as long as they think no one can see them, they can pick, flick, or wipe, and it not be a problem. A lot of people also do not feel the need to even be discreet about this. Germs, people, germs!! Not me. I cannot change that I am not comfortable with this. For me, it has got to be a tissue of some sort. If a tissue will not get the ‘booger’, then I will use a Q-tip. The idea of using a finger is just not good for me.  And what about “Snot-Rockets”? To me, those are completely disgusting. If someone feels they need to dispose of whatever is in their nose, yet they feel it is perfectly fine to spray that all over themselves, on anyone else nearby, and on every surface they are within shooting-distance of, I find that completely unacceptable. Again… Why would you want to spread that everywhere??

There is one exception, though. In the shower, I find it completely acceptable to blow your nose under the running water. One time when I was a roommate in a house with many people, the topic of “Blowing your nose in the shower” came up. I walked into the already started conversation. Jodee, the mom, was disgusted that her grown-daughter, Holly had blown her nose in the shower. As I came into the room, Jodee asked me what my opinion was of this. My first reaction was to find out how this came up in the first place. Jodee had been in the bathroom while Holly was showering, and heard her blow her nose while showering. Jodee was disgusted by this. Holly found it to be perfectly acceptable. I laughed, when they told me the debate. I agreed with Holly. Jodee was disgusted that we found this acceptable. I told Jodee it was a good thing then that she had never watched what I do in the shower. She of course asked what I meant by that. So, I told her it was no different than peeing in the shower, as long as it is in the running water, and not all over the walls, it should not be a problem. Oh! This got everyone started! More of our roommates came to join the fun conversation!  She could not believe I pee’d in the shower. Then everyone else also told her they do, too. Jodee thought even peeing in the shower was wrong. She insisted there were different plumbing-fixtures for each kind of drain-water, and how could anyone dare to pee where a shower drain was? So I of course told her it was no different than peeing in the sink. This really got everyone going! Most people knew I never worried about if I pee in the sink, or the toilet, or the shower. We eventually had to open the crawl-space under her house and show her all the pipes connected to the same place. Poor Jodee was never the same after learning she was the only one who did not blow her nose, spit, or pee in her shower.

But outside of the shower, I find it wrong to blow your nose into your shirt, onto your sleeve, or in a snot-rocket. The idea of spreading your germs to everyone else, and where others will touch your discarded snot is just not a good thing for me to grasp. Yeah, I have my quirks, and while I am a germ-freak in many areas, others, I am not. Snot is one of those I am a freak about.

WHAT ABOUT POOP?:

Yeah, yeah. The dreaded, off-limits topic of poop!

Poop Happens. Yeah, it happens, but why do people gotta make it noisy, advertise it, and be completely rude about it? I cannot understand why anyone makes weird noises, or acts like it is the most difficult thing they’ve ever done in life. No, I am not talking about the farts that occasionally accompany the act of going poop. I am talking about the grunting, heavy-breathing, sighing, groaning, and acting like the simple act of pooping is somehow like an exorcism, or like they are somehow attempting to remove every bit of their internal organs. Even worse are those who sound like they are having sex when they poop. It baffles me. Just go. My advice for those who find going poop to be a difficult task… Have you ever considered you are not placing your body in the position that best works for your own comfort of elimination?? Think about it. Most people sit on a toilet in the same exact position as everyone else. They are hunched-over, cramping their torso, and binding-up their organs. But I gotta ask why? Did it ever occur to them that maybe that position is not helping, but is actually hindering, binding-up what needs to be free-flowing? Yeah, it really is easy to find what works for your own plumbing… but most seem to think they need to cramp-up all their organs, instead of create an easy-flow. Which also brings up the point about why people seem to like to “Explode” all over the toilet when they go. Why?? Simply eat  what your body needs, go when it is appropriate, don’t cramp-up your organs, and Find what works for you.

I will never poop at work, and always make sure I take care of that at home on a work-day. (Yes, Always! I simply will not poop at work. I don’t, and will not.) I hear people comment that they cannot control when they gotta go. I feel sorry for them, but also believe they are not taking care of their own body, eating what they need to eat, and learning how to be on a schedule, routine, or plan accordingly. Maybe I am just different. (~Duh!~)  But learning what works for your own body, how it affects you, and when it will or will not make the need for pooping arise is something we Do have control over… IF We choose to pay attention, and do what is needed to be healthy.

I am in no way saying I will not ever use a public toilet. I absolutely will, and do. I just simply will not ever poop at work. I have never needed to, and hopefully will not ever.

Is the topic of poop so totally off-limits that it is never to be talked about? Well, it would seem if a person is in control of how often they poop, or is never constipated, it is totally off-limits. If a person has irregularity, has sudden needs to do so, or has problems, or is gassy, or has ‘accidents’ in their pants, makes rude noises, advertises the fact they are going, or is explosive when they do go, then it would seem it is totally acceptable to talk openly about. I fall into the first category. I go on a regular schedule, have never in my life been constipated, and take care of making sure I eat what works for my own body. This makes me the weirdo in the room. The same goes for the farting. Sure, I fart, But I just never saw a reason to create more farts than are necessary, nor to make sure others hear, smell, or be subjected to them. I tend to be discreet about this.

I have never understood why people will spend hours on a toilet. I say, go when ya gotta go, not go sit, and attempt to force something that is not happening. If ya gotta go, you should be able to sit, go, and be done in minutes. I also never understood why people say they can tell how long it takes after they eat before their body eliminates the waste, using corn, or peanuts as a visual guide. Huh? Why on Earth would there still be whole corn, or peanuts in your poop?? Yup. I have asked many, and done research on this, because this too is something totally different in me than in most it would seem. My body does infact digest these items.  I have never pooped out corn kernels, peanuts, sesame seeds, or any other substance undigested. Of course I look at my poop! What better way to understand what your body is or is not doing? You can tell by your own waste if you are getting enough fluids, enough fiber, protein, etc. Our own waste is one of the most important ways we learn about our own bodies.

On the topic of looking at poop: Yep, I look (at my own, not yours). Nope, I won’t touch it. I have my own quirks about what I will and will not come in contact with. Poop is one of those I will never touch. Period. You always hear about (or worse~ See!) evidence of people who do not clean themselves, or their toilets very well. Sorry, but you will Never see any poop, or remnants of poop on me, in my underwear, or on, in, or around my toilet. EVER! I am beyond anal (Pun totally intended!) in that department of cleanliness. Yup, I was taught very early in life how to wipe, and be clean. I always make sure clean is the way it is when it comes to poop. Even away from home, you will always find that I carry tissues, wet-wipes, and baggies. It baffles me how many people go into a public restroom, and are caught by surprise that there is nothing to wipe with. How is this possible? Ha! They even do this in their own home. They suddenly notice After they have used the toilet that there is no tissue. To me this is not an option.  Cleanliness in that department is not an option, it is a must. When ya gotta go, you always look first. Also baffling to me is how most people will wipe only with a piece of dry tissue. Umm… When you wash your face, hands, or anything else in life, would you simply use only a dry tissue? Nope! Everything in life you ever wash, clean, or wipe is done with some sort of moist item. How come people expect that they could wipe their butt with no moisture, only a dry tissue? People! Clean Yourself, Live healthier!!

This of course brings up the topic of pooping in nature, or even when you would rather not use a toilet which happens to be available. To me, that also is no problem… haha, in fact, if given the choice to go outside, or in a bathroom, I will always choose outside! Yeah, yeah, I am aware most people will say “Ewe, that’s gross”… but is it really? Seriously think about nature, and how it works. If done properly, going to the bathroom outdoors is much more efficient, and sanitary than anything could be in a bathroom where everyone does that same thing, it must be piped to some treatment plant, processed, and then pumped into whatever water-system is nearby… often our drinking water. If done properly, there is never a sanitation issue in nature. Nature knows how to properly take care of it. Simply make sure you know how and where is proper. Don’t just poop on the surface, near water, or where others will come in contact with it.

What about if you are in a house with a bathroom, but the toilet is not convenient, already in use, or others do not like to share the bathroom? (Or worse, the bathroom is too dirty, or smelly from others in the same house?) Simple: Grab a plastic grocery bag (or two!) And line a small bucket. Think about it… You bag and toss your kid’s dirty diaper, your cat, or dog’s poop, right? Why not treat your own the same way? The same would be true if ya gotta pee… a bucket, bottle, or other container is easily utilized, and simply poured into the drain. (You do the same thing if ya gotta puke, right, why not with pee? In fact, your vomit has much higher germ and bacteria than your pee does, yet you do not think twice about puking in a bucket.

WHERE DO YOU PEE?

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that I was not true to myself about when and where I pee. Much of my life, I have battled this. Why is it so wrong, or so unaccepted by others to go pee anywhere outside of the toilet, with the door closed, out of sight of another. Yeah, I know that answer: Fear. Fear of rejection, humiliation, scorn, having to defend our actions, and possibly risking offending another, or being ridiculed.

All my life, I have pee’d in places most would not. Unless I told someone, or they saw me, nobody would know. There is never any sign, or evidence of where I have pee’d. On the rare occasion that I do not have perfect aim, I Definitely make sure to clean it up. I mention this in my post about the hitchhiker, where a neighbor girl had sneakily watched as I would pee in the floor drain of our laundry room, and when I missed one time how she had to stifle her giggles as I made sure to wash the area with hot water.  Of course I use toilets, too. But you will never see any splatters on the rim, on the seat, or outside of the toilet. Ever! On the rare occasion I might get a drip, or a splatter outside the water of the toilet, I clean it up. In my opinion, a toilet should always be clean, spotless, and never have any residue of anything we have used it for.

I began this post writing about the odd places I will go pee. I have never hidden this from anyone, although I have been cautious about how, and when I allow another to know. All my life, I have had roommates. All my life, I have had others visit my own home. Never has anyone ever seen any evidence of where I have pee’d, nor have they ever found my homes to be disgusting in an un-clean way. (Yes, I always have clutter, often my homes are dusty, or piled with unsorted piles of stuff… but never is there any unsanitary, or germy residue.)

One of my favorite places to pee is in the sink. Yeah, Most people are not built so that a sink is a convenient height to go pee in. But do ya suppose that maybe I was built the height I am so that a sink is The Perfect fit for me? Yup! I can pee while brushing my teeth, washing my hands, doing the dishes, or even while making the morning coffee. If I gotta give any of my rubber-ducks a scrubbing, yup… I can just pee while I am scrubbing them! Filling my water-bottles for an outing? Yup! I can go pee as I fill them, and be ready to head-out the door. Of course, living life mostly naked has its advantages in the department of not having clothes in the way of when you decide to go. No, I Never pee on any other item that may be in, or near a sink. Like I have mentioned before, I am a total freak when it comes to aim, to being aware of germs, and anything unhealthy. My sinks are always clean. I aim into the drain, always wash it down with Hot water, and if ya never saw me, or I never told ya, you would never know.

Occasionally, the only evidence that I might have pee’d in a sink is the baby-powder that might land around the sink. (And because I unfortunately have testicles, the imprint on the edge of the sink left from the powder is often quite funny! I hate that I have to deal with these hanging in front of me, but as long as I do, might as well find humor in them!) Yes, Baby-powder. Actually Cornstarch with Aloe and Vitamin E! Like I mentioned earlier… I Keep things clean. Powder is a wonderful way to keep clean, dry, and never have any discomfort. And, since I also keep clean in the department of having no body-hair, I never have the issue of hair landing in a sink, on a counter, or even on toilet-rim. That, too, totally disgusts me when I see others’ hair left around. People, Take care of your own hygiene!! IF you are leaving your hair for others to deal with, that is disgusting! Take care of your own hair!!

On the topic of Urine, or The Places We Go… When I was in New Mexico, I got the opportunity to visit The Gila Cliff Dwellings. These are cliffs where long ago, the natives would reside, and make their homes in the side of a cliff. They had caves, and hollowed-out areas where they lived. They lived with nature, used nature, and found ways to utilize all their natural resources. This would also include their own bodily wastes. As the tour-guide showed everyone around, and explained the life-style to us, he also explained about how the hides were tanned, making them into strong, durable, yet soft leather. The guide showed how wood was varnished and preserved. He even showed how the clay pots were glazed. As each person passed these items around, felt, and admired the finished-quality, noticing how the natives had accomplished such amazing finishes so long ago, the guide explained about a substance called Uric Acid. All of these items were done so perfectly using Uric Acid. Everyone felt, and admired these details. Then the guide asked if anyone knew where Uric Acid came from, since they did not have a hardware store to get it from, they must have created it themselves. But where could the natives create it from? I grinned as I noticed nobody else made the connection. The guide teased the question about for a while, then noticed I was grinning. He asked me what I knew about Uric Acid. I smiled, and told the group “Urine”. They all looked in dis-belief. So I again said, “Urine… thus, Uric Acid.” They looked to the guide to be sue I was not teasing them. He grinned, and explained more about uric acid, and how they applied it to these fine substances: They literally pee’d on them! Everyone immediately put the clay-pots, the leather, and the varnished wood down, and looked disgusted. The guide and I both laughed. Then he explained how sterile urine is, and how useful it can be when used properly. Most of the tourists were disgusted. They could not appreciate nature. Some of the tourists, however, Did Embrace this aspect of nature, and were suddenly more interested in how these natives had lived so long ago.

Also on that subject, When you think of a toilet, do you think “Disgusting!” Or useful item in your home?

I had a friend long ago, who was also a Grandma. She was not my Grandma, but I could see mine doing the same thing. The Grandmother would do something funny if a child in her home misbehaved during a family meal. She would make the child take their plate into the bathroom to eat their meal alone. She would make the child sit on the toilet, facing the back, not forward. They would place their plate on the top of the tank, and eat their dinner at a lonely table, instead of at the family table. Most people when they heard of this would automatically think: “That is disgusting! How can she make you eat where it is so filthy!?” But of course anyone who ever met this lady, or saw her home, Knew without a doubt that the toilet was clean. Sadly, most people assume a toilet is somehow filthy (Perhaps that is a reflection of their own cleanliness, and they cannot grasp the simple concept of keeping a clean home?) Yet, they also assume a kitchen counter is somehow clean. Sadly, more germs are found on a kitchen counter, than on a toilet (providing people actually take care of their cleaning) because people don’t think about what comes in contact with a counter, but know what comes in contact with a bathroom. Oddly enough, her grandkids would purposely misbehave on occasion, just for an excuse to get away from the family!

So, with that in mind, I will ask you:

Where do You GO? (And Would You Admit it?)

Would you pee in your sink, if you were tall enough? Do you pee in the shower? Would You poop in a bucket? Do you secretly go pee outside when you think nobody can see you?

Your first reaction to my post is: EEW! You Are Gross!

But I challenge you to find anything gross about my home, my cleanliness, or my habits. I am betting you would find that I actually have cleaner habits than you do. I am betting your toilet, sink, or kitchen counter is germier than mine ever would be. Care to take the challenge?