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Miami Nude Beach Nudity, Please Read!

There's something liberating about the antic of being naked.  The freedom.  The exhilaration.  The lack of pocket lint.  Unfortunately, for most people the notion of nudity requires some rationale - no matter how silly that rationale may be.  Streaking across a football field. Skinny-dipping in a lake.  Mooning for the camera.  Photocopying your butt.  Playing naked Twister.  Flashing a nun after sixth-period class, hoping she didn't recognize you and isn't at this instant phoning your parents.  For most people, it's all about the naughty thrill of getting caught or exposing a private part.  But not for all.  No, for many it's perfectly routine, as normal and natural as, say, kissing hands or shaking a baby.

Nude beaches are the perfect denominators for these two groups, the puritans and the pure exhibitionists, the fakirs and the non-fakers. Think of it as a big game of strip poker where everybody has crappy hands.  The thing to remember is that nude sunbathing isn't about sex or exhibitionism - we'll leave that to the nudist colonies and Courtney Love.  Nude sunbathing is about elation and free-spiritedness (and avoiding wedgies and ugly tan lines).

I've made the trek to No Clothes Land many a time.  I've dropped trou in Europe, where it's no big deal - heck, even the Royal Family has displayed a boob or two (not counting Prince Charles).  Black's Beach in San Diego is world famous for nude sun worshipping.  And, of course, here in Miami, we have Haulover Beach.

One of the misconceptions about nudity is that every human body is beautiful (Right).  The key to inoffensive nude sunbathing is to do just that - sunbathe.  Do not play volleyball in the buff.  No grilling or barbecuing.  Even if your Playgirl's Mr. January, do not perform an oil and air filter change on your auto while naked.  An watch the jogging - you could poke somebody's eye out.

Nude beachgoers often have their social cliques and routines.  They picnic and fraternize, and they love to mingle.  Zoiks.  These people who sashay up and down the beach wearing nothing but a smile and a spare tire are the same folks you find in the receiving line at a wedding wielding a business card and a can of Binaca.

When I venture to Haulover, I stick close to my blanket or hit the water.  I don’t wander about.  It’s like you want to work the room, but there’s no place to put your hands and no appropriate place to hang your Walkman.  (Plus, you feel like you’ve gone to a party and everyone’s wearing the same thing.)  Personally, I happen to like being naked. It’s never bothered me.  I often get home from work, disrobe, and sit naked on my couch eating cereal.  (Did I just cross the line of too much information?)  Some people are uncomfortable naked.  I’m not.  What I do have a problem with, however, is being ugly and naked.  Statistics show that the number of people who enjoy nude sunbathing is proportionate to those who should put something on.  Like a tarp.  Or one of those tents that they use when they’re debugging a house.  That one of the reasons why I prefer the sanctity of my blanket.  I can feign sleep (or death, if necessary) should some naked old man approach me and start to discuss today’s undertow as he squats liberally in front of me.

Sunscreen:  I’d be remiss if I didn’t stress the importance of proper protection.  Those regions that rarely see the light of day are the first to succumb to the sun’s deadly rays.  Hence, watch your behind, or your buns will be toast.  As for – how do I say this politely – garnishing your weenie, yes, your little buddy needs sunblock, but remember, you’re in public.  There a fine line between safety and pleasure when applying lotion to Mr. Happy.  I’ve seen guys go at it like they’re greasing a fire pole.  So take it easy.  Don't make things hard on yourself.

When it comes to accessories, there are certain things you should and should not bring to a nude beach.  Telescopes and binoculars are definite no-nos.  You may think of this as a ball game, but I’m sure the Red Sox would beg to differ.  Likewise with a camcorder – carrying a video camera at a nude beach is the pervert’s equivalent of driving by a schoolyard with a van full of candy.  As for ready, avoid books with titles like Justice of the Piece.  Stick to Field and Stream, Reader’s Digest or the Gideon Bible.  Sunglasses are a must.  If you’re gonna ogle, at least do it behind your Maui Jims.

As for your random beach bump-ins, there are obvious encounters. Besides bodies that you’d rather not see naked, piercings are immensely popular.  Popular, I surmise, because they’re in places that wouldn’t necessarily be exposed at Publix (unless you shop at the new one by the bay).  I’ve seen nipples that look like parachute rip cords.

And below the belt, I’ve seen piercings that made me recoil.  (Come to think of it, I’ve seen coils down there, too.)  And little napkin rings.  And something called a Prince Albert.  I’ve seen less metal at a gun show.  And shaving.  Hmmmm.  Apparently trimming the hedges has become all the rage.  Some folks go for the close cropping; others like it smooth.  I haven’t seen topiary this creative since I was at the Botanical Gardens.

Nude sunbathing can be a kick, an exciting way to liven up an otherwise dull day at the beach.  For the ladies, it means being able to wear a sundress without worrying about unsightly strap lines.  For the guys, it means there’s no need to adjust the boys: it’s a wind sock now.  For all of us it means an escape, a break from our daily worries and cares, a moment’s freedom where less is so much more – except when it comes to that sunscreen.