Going shirtless in public

For the first time since my surgery, today I was bold enough to take my shirt off in public, exposing my scars to the healing sun and healthy air.

Soon after I started what turned into a 2-1/2 hour bike ride, I stopped, removed my shirt, and wrapped it securely around the crossbar.

Now, it is extremely rare for me to expose my blobby, gynecomastic, worm-white torso as it is... but now I have this long wide scar, still half-red, striping down my chest -- and not only that, but three irregular clusters of scars belong it, where they thoughtlessly cut me open to insert thick drainage tubes during the surgery.

There was a moment shortly after as I moved on, exposed, where I felt I touched heaven - or perhaps a Buddhist phrase might be felt the Ninth Consciousness. I do not even remember what song was playing on my iPod, but I do remember glancing down at my shadow (my head's shadow irregular from my helmet) as I biked along the Riverwalk.

Even the biking was wonderful!! -- I had just had my bike repaired, and decided to get a full tune-up and new pedals with plastic toe-holders -- it is like riding a whole new bike!! It feels like I get about 40% more effiency. Really!

I was proud to show off my body, my scars. A couple women even gave me wan unsure smiles as I rode by.

And toward the end, a group of teenagers, mixed boys and girls, laughed and squealed after me. I couldn't make out what they were saying (The Go-Go's defiant "Our Lips are Sealed" happened to be shuffled up on my iPod), a couple girls seemed to be yelling "White!" or "Why?!" You know what? I don't give a fuck.


"He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day...
...be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."


When I got home, I weighed myself -- I had lost 3 pounds in dehydration compared to my weight before I ate anything this morning!

And now I am sore, and logey from an hour's nap, and sunburned as my robe rubs my back and shoulders!

It felt so wonderful and liberating -- as liberating as getting a car this week.