100 degrees and wearing nothin’ but a smile

My head spins when I go to read the news lately, what with wars and floods and political shenanigans, and to be honest, I can see some appeal in the proposition, “Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.” Although we’ve all had that thought for varying reasons, it happens to be, in fact, the gist of a poem by 18th-century poet Thomas Gray, who contemplates entering the grown-up world and pines for the carefree years of youth.

Ah, youth! Let me sit and think on that for a while.

What reverie … No cellphone, no earbuds, no computer, no TV. Just sit on the porch and blissfully watch the world go by and just think. Kick back and, as Jefferson Airplane put it in their 1971 song, “Well, I thunk and I thunk…couldn’t think of anything better.”

The thing is, the more I think, the more I realize what a junk drawer my mind really is. It’s full of stuff that I haven’t thrown away because, you never know, I might need it sometime. Whereas the junk drawer at home is filled with real things. Important things. Things like a pencil stub with a worn-out eraser, some paper clips and rubber bands, a protractor, a few pennies, broken sunglasses I’ve been meaning to repair, six AAA batteries, an odd C cell battery, Chapstick, scissors, tape measure, obsolete Smith’s discount card, a Sharpie with a mushed-in point, and that stupid key that doesn’t fit any door. Whereas the junk drawer in my head is full of other useless things like the Three Stooges, whoopee cushions and, “I sure could use a glazed donut about now.”

When you’re not thinking of something specific, like solving a problem or making up a shopping list for the next Costco mission, you eventually get sidetracked and you never know what’s going to pop into your noggin.

I can go from “my, it’s a lovely afternoon” to “I need new tires for the Toyota” to “what was the name of that song I heard yesterday?” in a matter of nanoseconds. Trouble is, if I’m not careful, this stream of consciousness thing can lead to me thinking about household finances and budgeting money better, and “do I actually need a pasta maker?”

And if that’s not all, it then gets really weird, veering off into a litany of “what ifs.” Like “what if I won the Powerball lottery?” or “what if I had hit that deer crossing Highway 60 that time?” or “what if that Viet Cong guy had aimed his rocket just a tiny hair to the left?” (Shudder.)

That’s when “just thinking” balloons into over-thinking, with parenthetical qualifications, and by that time I’m ready to take Winnie the Pooh’s advice: “Did you ever stop to think, and then forget to start again?”

I’m not sure if the monsoon rains are done for the season, but if you’re one of those so-called sun worshippers, your day in the sun is next Monday, National Nude Day. As a matter of fact, this whole week is National Nude Recreation Week, and they’re both sponsored by the American Association for Nude Recreation. To hear them tell it, naturists believe all the problems of modern life can be solved by taking off your clothes.

Although I try to be an open-minded kind of guy, it sounds icky, and I don’t know if there are any nudists in Socorro, but there are a couple of things that first come to mind. For one, you’d spend a fortune on sunblock, and two, you’d have to be extra careful around cholla and goatheads.

Suffice to say, for me, it’s National I’m Too Shy Week.

Some of us are old enough to remember the streaking craze in the 1970s, where certain “with-it’’ people thought it humorous to shed their clothes and run around in public in their birthday suits. Some said they were making a political statement, but which emperor had no clothes?

With so many “nekkid” people running around in 1974, the novelty record “The Streak” by Ray Stevens held the number one slot on Billboard’s Hot 100 for three weeks.

I skipped that fad.

I bring this up because according to tradition, today, July 10, is the day that Lady Godiva made her famous bareback ride through the streets of Coventry, England, to protest the oppressive taxes to be levied by her husband, Leofric, Earl of Mercia. When he got wind of her plan, Leofric decreed that everyone stay indoors behind shuttered windows while she rode her horse through town. Legend has it that Tom the tailor couldn’t resist a quick peep as she passed and was instantly struck blind. Fair warning for Peeping Tom wannabes.

Me, I’ll settle for Godiva chocolate. That’s my bliss.