Bobby talked to Louise about other nudist colonies in the region and how they can get “pretty sexy if we were into that sort of thing.” We are not. In other words, we shouldn’t let this experience color our opinion too much.
I was busy keeping my hands from touching the couple next to me. Later, over a slice of cheesecake-“cheesecake” was our safe word, so it seemed fitting-all we could do was laugh.
About 20 minutes before the scheduled record attempt, Louise and I re-entered the pool. A man approached us as we were dressing and told us that not all nudist colonies are like Rock Haven.
Unfortunately, many of those areas included penises. We waited in a short line-row after row of bare buttocks-so I could purchase a commemorative T-shirt.
I maintain no grand ideas about my “body temple” or connecting with the purity of my “life essence.” And yet, there we were.
I felt extremely vulnerable and silly as I walked from my car in nothing but sneakers, a baseball cap and sunglasses.
His great-great-grandfather, John Hathorne, was one of the judges who presided over the Salem Witch Trials; it is said that young Hawthorne added the “w” to his birth surname, “Hathorne,” in order to distance himself from this infamous ancestor.
Few American authors have written more searchingly and profoundly about the American character.