Standing Naked on Aisle Ten and Other Enlightening Moments

I remember embarrassing moments of my youth with puzzlement. I’m unable to muster up the sheer mortification that would assail me at age 13 whenever my father put on his new dark brown rubberized sandals over white crew socks. He only wore this atrocity on his feet when he donned shorts. At least I lived in Michigan then and those summer months passed quickly.

The other morning as I set about to drink my coffee wearing a purple terry cloth robe and white crew socks, I realized my newspaper still rested in the driveway. I slipped on my sandals and ventured out to retrieve the paper. Neighbors whizzed by on their way to work, and I waved happily. The only thing missing was my own daughter who no doubt would cringe in chagrin to see her mother walk outside in such an outfit. I laughed to myself and remembered my father. I no longer felt embarrassment, but longed to parade around my yard with him, both of us in white socks and sandals.

These days most of my embarrassing moments pass quickly and turn into stories embellished and fine-tuned ready to pull out for any occasion that warrants a laugh.

Here’s a story told to me by a friend that brings a smile every time I think of it.

This man I shall call Tall because he is 6’5”, had back surgery recently. Doctors gave him a 50-50 chance of ever walking again. But walk he did and on his first major excursion, Tall ventured to the grocery store. Dressing still remained a chore so he managed only shorts that morning, shorts now quite loose on his frame after the surgery. Walking down the crackers and cookies aisle, Tall felt a breeze and then almost tripped on the shorts now wrapped around his ankles. There he stood, all 6’5” of him, naked from the waist down and only a wire cart to hide his privates from Mrs. Cozy picking out a box of Triscuits.

How do you gracefully ask an 80-year-old stranger of the opposite sex to pull up your pants? Tall determined he could not. Maneuvering his hard-to-hide body behind the cart, unable to fully bend over, he eventually managed to edge the shorts up his legs.

As I age, it is not those physical moments that embarrass me. I fear those moments when I might stand naked to the world revealing more of myself than I ever intended.

My most recent “embarrassing” moment consisted of a combination of both types — physical and personal embarrassment. It happened during a kayak trip with a friend on the Santa Fe River. I was the know-it-all guide to my friend who had never been in a kayak.

We stopped to visit with another friend who lives on the river. When we returned to the kayaks, I broke the No. 1 rule in boating. I attempted to get in the kayak while it was not secured but just floating on two-foot high water. Soon I was in the water and my kayak on top of me.

“Grab my camera bag,” I yelled to my friend who stood smugly on the bank.

“So that’s how it’s done?” she asked, not so innocently.

I asked her to not tell anyone about my fiasco, mostly because of a wounded pride. She agreed, although when we climbed into the shuttle van to return to our car, she announced to everyone she had successfully completed her first kayak trip without going in the water like some others she knew. The other canoers and kayakers looked at my wet clothes and smiled.

My friend kept her promise, but now I am going to tell the story my way — with the embellishments that all writers use.

After the yelling and splashing stopped, we noticed the gator sunning on the opposite bank had lowered himself into the water. He swam across the Santa Fe to learn who had interrupted his Saturday morning nap.

When he discovered it was only a human doing another embarrassing thing and disturbing his habitat, he floated away, leaving us in peace.

And I stood proudly in the water, naked to the world, not embarrassed in the least.

Columns Archive