IT'S A MANZ WORLD

DREAMING - Note: Most of my Manz World stories are fictionalized accounts of how the painting show here came to be. However, some of the stories are rooted in truth.

Along with a couple of friends, I had booked a week of vacation at the Lone Palm nudist camp just outside Tampa, Florida. Lone Palm had been my camp of choice since visiting there several years before. While not the only nude camp or resort in the area—there are three—it was the one that was most comfortable for me because it was so similar to the camp I was used to in my home state of Pennsylvania, although much larger. It’s also the more affordable one.

Although the name of the camp is Lone Palm there are actually quite a number of palm trees on the property. The name comes from when the original owner of the camp bought the property. There was only one palm tree there at the time. But since then—almost 50 years ago—many palms have been planted as have a number of flowering shrubs and bushes such as azaleas, bougainvillea, gardenia and jasmine making the place lush in greenery and highly fragrant. I can attest to fragrance since, on a hot summer night, the smell of the flowers is most pleasant. That greenery is due to the latest owner, a guy named Jerry, who took over Lone Palm almost ten years ago. Upon buying it he said he wanted to make the camp a place of beauty as well as leisure.

The availability of the many leisure areas is a significant part of the attraction for the many nudist who visit Lone Palm throughout the year. The camp includes a large, almost Olympic-size, pool with a hot tub next to it. On one side of the pool is a cabana bar that includes a snack bar. On the other side of the pool is a restaurant that serves delicious meals from breakfast to lunch to dinner, staffed by an actual chef. Next door to the restaurant is the recreation hall with tables for billiards and ping pong as well as a rather extensive library of books that have been left behind by guests. Beyond that area, in what had once been an open field, are various courts built for one of several sports: tennis, volleyball and pétanque. Obviously the camp is a large one, large enough to host the hundreds of people who come to some of their annual events, the largest of which is a nude volleyball tournament that sometimes draws up to a thousand participants and spectators from all over America as well as Canada, Puerto Rico and Mexico.

Along with my friends, Jon and Harrison, two friends from my home camp in Pennsylvania, I flew to Tampa, then rented a car for a week. As we drove the nearly twenty miles from the airport to Lone Palm, we talked excitedly about the many days of relaxation ahead. When we arrived at Lone Palm, we were greeted by one of the staff, Sam, who I had come to know from my previous stay. His friendly smile, as well as his well tanned body, was a welcoming sight, making us all envious of Sam’s ability to live on the grounds of Lone Palm, in one of the many mobile homes that were parked on well manicured lawns in another section of the camp.

For the next several days Jon, Harrison and I wallowed in the waters of the pool and the hot tub. We also enjoyed the recreational activities, some of which were organized, like the several volleyball games we participated in. As with most nude camps, all participants in any of the sporting events had to be naked. That included swimming in the pool. It was mandated. In fact, except for one evening when a cool wind blew in, all three of us Pennsylvanians stayed au naturale.

There was the one exception when we needed to dress in order to go a dance at a night club at one of the other nearby nudist camps. At first we questioned whether we wanted to, even needed to, put clothes on since the other camp was only about ten miles away. However, we weren’t sure what would happen if the cops stopped us for whatever reason. Florida law enforcement officers can be tough on tourist. Our thought was that they could be even tougher on naked ones. Actually, it was Jon, sitting in the back seat, who, upon leaving Lone Palm camp, immediately stripped off all his clothes and rode the rest of the way in that condition.

Being able to live the life of a nudist in such a wonderful, beautiful place as Lone Palm would be a dream come true for me. In fact, most any nudist, especially those who are limited to being naked only in their home, would envy Sam and the others who live in a nudist community like Lone Palm. For true nudists, not only is it more comfortable to be without clothing but it’s also cheaper: no buying of extra clothing and hardly any laundry to do.

It almost goes without saying that most nudist sleep naked. And that’s the way Jon, Harrison and I slept when rooming together at Lone Palm. We had rented a room at the motel unit that had two bunk beds. It was a small room but comfortable. It even had a small kitchen alcove, one that we used for breakfast and sometimes for lunch. One of the attractions for us was that this room was rather inexpensive. The one thousand dollars for the week, when split three ways, made it especially affordable for my friends, both of whom were not flushed with money.

My memory of our time at Lone Palm camp is one that is long lasting. And to help Jon, who is gay, remember it even longer I made a drawing of him one morning, one that I later painted. It was of him while still asleep on his bottom bunk bed. As many times happens with a guy when asleep, he had a slight erection, what guys call a “woodie.” I kidded him later that he was probably dreaming of his boyfriend, one he had been dating recently.

So the painting I’ve posted here is what I gave Jon as a gift. I call it “Dreaming.”