POOLSIDE CHAT -
Note: Most of my Manz World stories are fictionalized accounts of how the painting shown here came to be, however, some stories are rooted in truth.
I’m a nudist and a member of a nearby nudist community. It was there that I first met Jeremy, a boy who had recently celebrated his tenth birthday. That news was shared with me by his grandmother, Georgia, a 67-year-old woman who was a client of mine.
Georgia had been coming to me for muscle therapy sessions twice a week for approximately three months. She had been experiencing back pain because of a fall she had experienced several weeks before her initial session with me. That and rather severe scoliosis were what brought her to my practice. As I got to know her over those weeks, she began to tell me more about her life. Eventually, she revealed she lived in a community where she had access to a hot tub, a sauna and both an indoor and outdoor pool.
Wondering where such a place was, I asked the location. Georgia replied, “I guess I can tell you now. It’s a nudist community.” Seeing my eyebrows move upward, she smiled and said, “Yes, I’m a nudist.” This coming from such a grandmotherly-looking woman caught me off guard. However, given a few seconds and feeling that I had an immediate connection on a deeper, more intimate level, I said, “Well, so am I.”
The result of that revelation was Georgia’s invitation to come to a volleyball tournament that was to be held at her camp the next weekend. When I agreed to attend, Georgia stepped forward and hugged me tight, saying, “Oh, Dan, I’m so happy. I think you will love our little community.”
The tournament, a competition between several other area nudist groups, started on Friday. Because of my work load I could not make it to the camp until the following day. When I finally arrived, I saw a huge number of vehicles parked in the parking lot and several hundred people, all naked, congregated in the center of what I would call the recreation center. That area comprised an open, grassy plain where I saw a large outdoor swimming pool, two tennis courts and three hard surfaced volleyball courts, the latter being the center of attention for most of those present. It was obvious that all three courts were filled with activity since, even from a distance, I could see white volleyballs flying through the air at tremendous speeds.
After a scan of the crowds surrounding one court, I found Georgia, totally naked, seated in a little green golf cart, parked in a way that she had an open view of the first two courts. Having already shucked all my clothing, leaving all but my sandals and a towel in the car, I walked toward Georgia free of any external protection except a thick slathering of sunscreen. As I approached her cart, Georgia saw me. With a huge smile on her face, she almost yelled out, “Dan, you came! I’m so glad.” Georgia then got out of her seat, threw open her arms and gave me a wonderful welcoming hug, after which she began introducing me to some of her friends who were standing nearby.
Over the next many minutes, I witnessed some of the best volleyball playing I’d seen in a long time. It was obvious that the first court had two teams of highly skilled players. Both teams were mixed, made up of male and female, all very tall, all very naked and all very sweaty. After settling in on the seat next to Georgia, I watch with wonder as the little white volleyball whizzed from one side to the other, going back and forth with blazing speed. It was quite obvious that each member of each team had a serious, focused look on their faces, all trying to anticipate where the ball would be sent by the opposing team. And many times, the anticipation paid off as some amazing recoveries took place.
It was during a break between matches that I heard a high-pitched voice call out, “Nanna, Nanna, did you see me? I made a point!” Looking to my right, I saw a little toe-headed boy, totally naked except for his gym shoes, running toward Georgia’s golf cart. The boy stopped just short of the cart and repeated with excitement in his eyes and voice, “Did you see me, Nana?” Georgia, with a loving, grandmotherly tone, said, “Oh, honey, I did. You were great!” The boy continued to speak excitedly as he jumped up and down, thrilled that his grandmother had seen his victory. However, I really doubted that Georgia had actually viewed this little boy’s activity since he had been on a temporary grass court quite a long way from where we were seated.
As the little boy turned away from us and was about to run away, Georgia said, “Jeremy, stop! Come back here. I want to introduce you to my friend.” Jeremy, almost quivering with excitement, reluctantly turned back to face me. “This is Dan, my therapist,” Georgia said in introduction. Turning toward me, she continued with, “Dan, this is my grandson, Jeremy.”
Since I was on the other side of Georgia, I raised my hand and waved to Jeremy in greeting. He, on the other hand, said a quick, “Okay,” then turned once more and ran away. “He’s wanting to get back to his game,” said Georgia, laughing. “He’s a hard one to corral.”
Over the next several hours, I met a number of Georgia’s nude friends and some of her family, including Jeremy’s older brother, Kyle, a young teen with a very handsome face. While only thirteen, Kyle looked much older. Not only did he have a rather mature body for his age, but was also an outstanding volleyball player. That was proven several times as I watched him and his agile body make point after point, helping his team win several matches. When I mentioned Kyle's ability to Georgia, she smiled with pride and said, "That from the training he's gotten from his dad." She went on to tell me that Kyle and Jeremy's father had at one time been a volleyball champion and had played two-man sand volleyball in top level competitions.
The next several years brought even more maturity to Kyle as well as to Jeremy. As a member of the camp and as a friend of the family, I was privileged to watch both brothers grow into very handsome young men, ones who became very capable athletes. In fact, they became so good at their sport of volleyball that they were ranked in the top fifty players in the state. Eventually, both won sports scholarships at their chosen university.
It was one day when I was at the camp that I came up on the brothers, both now in their early to mid-twenties, sitting side-by-side at the edge of the outdoor pool. It was easy to see they were engrossed in conversation, since they didn’t see me until I was literally standing next to them. That scene of them talking was the inspiration of the painting I’ve included here, one that I call “Poolside Chat.”
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