Over By the Swingset

"Nake. Ed," he said clearly. "Naked. They walk around back there naked ALL the time. Both of them. And they have these...converSATions..." He shook his head, apparently baffled. "I have seen them with their clothes on ONCE, and that's because they had guests."

Our cross-the-street neighbor was not talking about us for a change, and I admit all three of us indulged in a few guilty moments of snarky snickering over the image of our crazy new naked hippie-philosophy student utility kilt-wearing neighbors hangin' out - in the best sense of the phrase - with mai tais under the mesquite.

We were like a bunch of schoolchildren clustered together over by the swingset while the weird new kids play on the slide. In the nude.

"I saw them with their clothes on once," I offered helpfully.

My poor neighbor - the big redheaded guy with the tattoos of his girls' names and all the power tools - just looked at me balefully.

I couldn't help it. I find it all very funny.

There are a lot of perfectly nice philosophy students running around out there philosophizing their deep little hearts out; I'm all for the utility kilt; and, as a good friend once said (sagely, I think - or maybe just while tipsy), more people should be more naked more often. Plus I live across the street, so my view of the goings-on is going to be somewhat diminished. And, well, deep down I've always wanted to be the kind of people who have the kind of people who are naked all the time for neighbors anyway.

So I figure I'll just keep an eye on the slide from over here, chuckling to myself and waiting for the recess bell.

But - poor Greg. He's right next door to the playground. He doesn't get a recess bell. And he really DOES have a swingset in his backyard.