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To Begin At The Beginning

The beginning is a point in time when something happens.  So I choose today, fair and warmer in San Francisco, with Bay to Breakers just finishing up.  A middle-aged man stood on the edge of Golden Gate Park.  Backpack strapped on his bare shoulders, white socks and running shoe, his penis nodded limply as he meandered.  No one paid attention to him.  He was just part of the scene.  I held tight my sweater, coat and scarf.  Even if I had the nerve to strip I don’t have the constitution.  It takes guts to face the world naked. I admire those who celebrate their bodies with conviction.

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