dear naked guy,

Thank you for visiting the Lodge last week. Honestly, I didn't believe Derek when he told me you checked in wearing nothing but one black sock and and a long sleeve black shirt that barely covered the important stuff. I didn't believe it, that is, until I saw you walking from your cabin to your car wearing the same. And then when you bent over to grab something in the back seat? Classic. Full moon never looked so bright.

I can understand how the natural surroundings up here may elicit the desire to become one with, eh, nature.  And how liberating it must feel to not have to make the boxer or brief decision each morning. You told us you had a groin injury. Which is why you're unabashedly frolicking around naked in the great outdoors where sharp rocks and pointy sticks abound.

Really, my heart aches for you. I heard you were running away from your kids so they wouldn't send you to a rest home. A fugitive on the run, grasping onto his last moments of freedom.  A Custard's last stand of sorts. What better way to go out then to show them, ahem, everything you've got.  So the morning we woke up and saw that you had slipped away into the night? I silently cheered, feeling relieved you had escaped before they found you. Your battle still alive.

And so, I wish you luck Mr. Naked Guy. May your journey be long and your back side warm and the rest home ever far away. Thanks again for bringing a smile to my face.

All the best,
Jen