I have the collection and as the marathon continues on it occurs to me it never occurred to me how often Mel Gibson gets naked – he owns the love scenes, or wakes up in the morning and walks away from the camera. Well, wha’d’ya’know, he sleeps naked too. Hit the pause button, crack a beer and sit back… nah, I’d go for an ice cold martini, salute, let the movie play and don’t be lookin’ for a tip.
I remember, don’t ask why the thought was triggered, when I was in medical and finally getting back to school – can’t be promoted to doctor after all – that it took me a minute to put my finger on what was different at the university… the lightbulb came on and I laughed at myself – everyone was dressed. It would have made more sense, or wouldn’t have phased me if most of the student population walked around naked. Changing dressings, helping folks to the bathroom, changing sheets and chux, keeping on top of skin care, bed sores, in other words seeing nudity most of the day, every day, I think gives a healthier outlook, a different appreciation you could call it. There was one woman I just might always remember who had an open wound that needed to be packed each day. It was a wide smile across her generously rotund belly. We looked forward to seeing each other to BS recipes. I removed the gauze, pulled out the thin packing strips, cleansed it of course, packed it again, covered it with fresh gauze… what did we talk about during the procedure but meatloaf recipes. Now in my family we had a specific way using tomato soup as a sauce, the benefit being potatoes, carrots, onions could be cut up, spread around the loaf, and the whole thing could bubble to perfection in the oven – a one pot meal. As I worked I felt aware of how far I’d come in this profession, what terrific people I’d met, nudity, not nudity didn’t matter and appreciated the humor of our discussion over a sliced open belly, the same to me as not opened at all.