The Plight and Flight of the Prude
Never before has my birthday spanned 5 months. Never before have I had such unpredictable birthday presents. My family hosted the preamble in May before leaving for Sitka, where the June date was spent with chocolate-smeared smiles and phone calls. My celebration-committed coworkers were apologetic that they missed it and so invented my first “faux birthday”–July 26th to be exact–complete with fake birthday card and fantastically real cake. In August, Kristin gave me miles to fly to Anchorage for a weekend of gulping music and shaking tail. Other wishes and presents trickled into September. But Daniel’s promise of a “birthday surprise” was much more mysterious. The unhelpful clues included “it’s both inside and outside,” “it includes all the elements,” and—to my alarm—“No, they don’t do it in the States because they are much too prudish there.”
If you’ve ever had European friends maybe you’ve heard the same lecture about how prudish the Americans are. Maybe you also tried to argue that it’s not that true. I mean, what about Playboy and music videos and Victoria’s Secret? And, now you can see underwear on TV (not recommended for under 14). So, really are we that prudish?
Just to clear up any semantic confusion, we consulted German and English language resources for the official definition of the word. The German translator and German Wikipedia describe prudish as being “very easily shocked by things connected with sex” and having “extensive refusal of human nakedness.” The American Dictionary.com suggests it’s just being “proper.” And, in the English Wikipedia, “prudish” is not found; you are redirected to “modesty.” Hmm, somehow our polite definitions, void of even the word “sex,” are the first indication that maybe, maybe it might be true; maybe we are, just a pinch, prudish.
As we drove further out of town on the day of the surprise, Daniel decided it was finally time to divulge the destination. “Since you said that Americans are not so prudish,” he explains, “I booked a Tantra class for the day.” My eyes widen, all my internal organs contract. He explains simply that people can walk around “the farm” naked all day, get massages from strangers, have sex whenever and wherever they like. That’s when I decide, immediately, decisively:
I am that prudish.
As I contemplate the possible damage to my body from rolling out of a moving vehicle, a beautiful, peaceful glider flies overhead. “Oh lord why oh why oh why can’t I be doing that instead?!?” I ask in my head. Outside my head I distractedly ask Daniel if he’s ever had a ride in one. And, the words that make my heart soar in glorious, happy prudishness: “No, but we are about to.”
Life and cultures are in order once again. ; )
Sidenote:
There is little else as strikingly, flawlessly beautiful as a glider. Few other sounds as gripping as the swooshy, windy whisper as it is launched by a wench, sneaks up for a landing, or loops upside down. Few other ways to feel unbridled ecstasy than to fly in a glider, fully clothed, all those naked farm-goers shivering far, far away. 😀
Daniel is forgiven for the cruel, devilish decoy. ; )
Tags: Europe, Germany
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