THE NEW RESIDENCIA

Est - 1922

Editor – ice

Dep Editor – Pup

Vice Pres – Daze

Exec VP – Six

Ace Reporter- Johnnie

Scoop Reporter – Scratchomo

Crapolo! Been gone since Sunday and it feels like a frigging month away from Pup, my bed, my music, blogstream, and the home front.  Sure is good to be back home, and I know I will be so far behind the curve on the stream, that it will take forever to catch up. 

Actually thought I would be able to get on the stream at the hotel but even though I stayed in a damn nice hotel, (for this ol country boy anyway) we had to have “wireless” laptops to get online, and guess what?  Nah, no wireless laptop for me.  Hmm… the gov’t bought my laptop and we don’t have wireless capabilities, but Pup’s company bought theirs - and they…..do.  Hmm….and we’re “worried” about the gov’t “snooping on us”.  Well not with equipment like I have, lol.

Got back in last night, “wore smooth as a rock”, from our annual organizational meetings, in the big city.  Basically we got told how much we are appreciated (field supervisors) as they piled more and more work on us.  Kinda negated my “big bitch”, which was “not enough time in the day to do what is expected/needed”, eh?

Pup beat me home from her “shorter trip” (in duration not mileage) – in the other direction, by about 20 minutes, and we’re both pretty worn out from the crazy “working man/woman” week we’ve had.  The best I can do (so far today) is this abbreviated issue of the rag. 

My plans for the weekend include catching up with the ol stream and putting out a “real issue” sometime today or tomorrow, as well as listening to music, maybe catching Steve Martin’s new movie, “The Pink Panther”, and visiting with my son who came back down with the Pup. 

Scott is my middle son who is borderline retarded and whom I’ve talked about on the stream before.  He is 30 years old and lives with his mother, but as I’ve said before, he is probably the happiest person I know. 

He is a real joy to be around and I look forward to his stay with us this week.  I will take him home next weekend when I go to sell this litter of puppies.  We have a deposit on one, working on another one, and are hoping to receive deposits on most of the others this week. 

Anyhow… I’ll be strolling through the stream trying to “catch up” with you guys, while at the same time trying to put together a “real issue” of this rag.

The below is submitted to all you cat lovers out there.  It was submitted to this rag by “PoP”, and we appreciate his contribution, and hope that it can be of use to some on the stream.

The New Residencia

Est: 3492

Editor- Ice

Friday Fun Facts about Ice:

1.    Played the steel guitar in a country western band while in the Army, and in Germany during the mid 70’s.

2.    As a small boy, at the age of 6 got his “thang” caught up in the zipper of his pants, and was the center of attention for all the neighborhood women, until finally…. “everything was untangled”.

3.    While in H.S. dated “twin girls” without knowing it for a short period. I knew my girlfriend was a twin, and I liked them both, but didn’t know they were both dating me. lol, talk about being used.

4.    I love motorcycles and am still thinking about getting another Harley.  Psst.. don’t say anything to Pup about this.

5.    Actually enjoyed my  “nudist camp experience”, although I’ve never done it since.

Nam…  a continuation…

Morning in the Nam…..

I was sitting by myself at a table in the mess hall. The five o’clock formation was thirty minutes away, but as was my habit, I’d been up for an hour already, drinking coffee and smoking. 

I’d stayed up till after midnight playing cards, and drinking with the guys; Cat had been in rare form as we celebrated his “last” night in “the Nam”. 

But, it was now a “Monday Morning” in Nam.  In the field, one had no idea what day of the week it was usually, for everyday was the same; “there were no weekends in Nam”. But in base camp certain things happened on certain days, so it was fairly easy to keep up with what day it was.

On “Monday’s” the laundry truck would make its weekly run to Cam Rahn Bay to turn-in dirty sheets and pick-up clean ones. This was Cat’s chosen method of getting to Cam Rahn for out-processing, and his flight back to the world, which was scheduled for later this afternoon. 

.

He could of course flown, there was always a flight out of Phan Rang to Cam Rahn, but he didn’t like “in country-military” flights, and since his commercial flight back to the world wasn’t till 4 p.m., he would have plenty of time to get to Cam Rahn by truck.

Squeaky’s ‘offer’ to fly him to Cam Rahn, via Song Mao, had just made him laugh. “Helicopters” were a necessary evil to Cat, and he had avoided them like the plague during his year in Nam. He would of “hitch-hiked” to Cam Rahn before riding one of those “rotating coffins”, as he liked to call them.

Although it was only a two hour drive to Cam Rahn from Phan Rang, whoever made the laundry run would always leave right after the morning formation, as soon as the sun was fully up, to make sure they had plenty of time to get there and back before dark. So Cat would be out of here long before Squeaky and I were due to leave for Song Mao.

It was good that Cat was going home, and like always when someone would leave the unit, we who remained were happy for them, but still, it was a melancholy feeling I had this morning and it wasn’t helped any by the fact that I was going to Song Mao.

I was brought out of this introspection by Cat himself, strolling into the mess hall, seeking his first cup of coffee.  “Hey boy,” he hollered at me, “you can still go with me this morning, I’ll stuff you in my duffle bag and we’ll both go home together”. 

I laughed as I kicked a chair out for him, and saw Top coming in the door right behind him, along with a couple of other guys.  Getting a cup of coffee before morning formation was getting to be a habit for others besides me, I noticed. 

Since Cat was the “old mans” (Company Commander) driver, he and Top were often together, and everyone had fell into the habit of referring to them “together” as “TopCat”, a term that neither liked, and both ignored.

They’d had their differences the past four months, since Top had been reassigned to Phan Rang after the fiasco at Dalat, but as was often the case, they had eventually settled into a semi-tense co-existence with each other.

But, on this morning, sitting at the table with me they showed no animosity toward each other, and the feeling was even relaxed, leading me to believe that they had decided to end their relationship on a positive note. 

“Tyler”, Top said to me, “the Colonel’s not going this morning, he’s not feeling well, must have a hangnail acting up or something; anyway when you get down there I want you to see Sergeant Morrison, he has a Russian gun that he wants me to look at, and please don’t try to shoot it. 

I loved Top’s dry humor when it came to officers, especially the Colonel, who he barely tolerated; he had once told me that he considered him an “incompetent fool”, who should not be allowed to lead troops. As to the Russian gun, he knew my distaste for them, so his comment about shooting it was made in jest.

Just then, Sgt. Lisby, the Supply Sergeant walked in, and seeing us at the table, walked over and said to Cat, “we’re leaving in about 30 minutes”, and was about to say more, but Cat interrupted him with, “my shit’s on the truck, just say the word and I’ll be on it too”.

Top stood up and said, “well boys and girls, it’s time for my morning formation, I don’t suppose we could be honored with the presence of Tyler and Cat this morning?  We looked at each other and smiled; there was no use in setting any precedents this late in the game.

Top just laughed and headed outside.

The Weekend……

Walking through those doors and into the clubhouse was an “electric experience” for me.  I felt as if my entire body was receiving a small electric charge, and I was sure, from the inner tingling, that I was turning red all over.  Diane whispered to me that she was experiencing a similar feeling, and asked if I could tell if she was blushing?

It was here that, evaluating things, I thought how stupid it was for me to have gotten undressed, and to be parading around naked. The fact that my wife was doing the same was also becoming very real to me, “especially after noticing all the naked men standing around”.  I looked at her and said, “what now”?

“Get us something to drink Tyler”, she said, smiling, as she looked around the room.

It was a fairly large room, probably around three thousand square feet, with thick soft carpet on the floor, and several tables at various places around the outer walls, loaded with soft drinks and bowls filled with chips, and various other snack food. There must have been about 50 people in the room, with more women than men it seemed to me, divided into several little groups. 

It was from one of these groups, that a nice looking blond lady walked over to where we were standing, and said, “Hi, my name is Susie.  Welcome to Sunshine Park”.

“Susie” was about 5-foot two or three, and perfectly put together from any angle you wanted to look at her from, with shoulder length blond hair, that laid easily on tanned shoulders, which were lightly freckled with little brown spots.  From there on down it just got better, as her small, but perky breasts “rode high in the water”, with hard, dark brown nipples that looked like they was trying to “bob” to the surface, reminding me of the song “Night Moves” and my High School days.

The proof of her being a natural blond was shaved in a small triangle, and it took great fortitude, and the presence of Diane, for me to keep eye contact as I said, somewhat nervously, “Hello, my name is Tyler, and this is Diane”, “my wife,” I added quite unnecessarily. “Would you happen to know where the guest book is that we are supposed to sign is”?

She laughed at my nervous response, and said, “first time at a nudist camp right”?  “Sure is”, I said, as Diane said, “this is really a nice place”.

Susie laughed again, and hooking her arm in Diane’s, as if they were old friends, said, “Come with me, I’ll get you guys signed in”, and with that they took off across the room, and without another viable choice, I followed them over to a little table with a open book in the middle of it.  Diane was already signing when I got there, and Susie was talking to a man who had walked up just before me.

Turning to face me, she said, “John, this is Tyler, he and Diane are visiting for the day”. 

“John, was about my height, and was carrying a few more pounds than me. He was however, well built and carried his extra weight good, and with a full head of dark black hair, he appeared to be in his early thirties.

He shook my hand saying, “good to meet you Tyler”, and turning toward Diane he shook hers, as Susie walked away saying, “be right back”. 

With Diane’s hand in his, John said,  “nice to meet you Diane, and we hope you guys enjoy your visit here today”, continuing with, “did Susie tell you that she is the Chairperson of the Membership Committee”?

And as this naked man stood there and discussed membership details with my equally naked wife, I was having another one of those evaluation things going on in my head. 

 Now, I’d be lying if I were to try and tell anyone that I was not initially “put off” with the idea of going to a nudist camp, for the idea of grown adults standing around and conversing without any clothes on, had naturally seemed so unreal to me that I could literally not imagine it.

But here I was, naked and in a room full of naked people, many of them very good-looking women, and my big concern which had been “being sexually aroused”, had not even come close to happening. 

All this from a man who could hardly watch his wife shower without being aroused.  It was weird, and it was good in ways I was trying to come to grips with, as Susie walked back up to me and putting her hand on my shoulder said, “my, you have a great tan”, do you lay outside naked or something”?

“No, but I go to a tanning booth a couple of times a week”.

“Well it works, that’s a great tan”, she said, as she brushed her right tit, as if it had lint or something on it.

Now I’m human, and when a good looking woman starts complimenting me I appreciate it, but when a good looking naked woman is complimenting my equally naked body, I’m in heaven, and stuff like this always brings me out of one of my reflective moods, and today was no exception.

The New Residencia

Est. 1604

Editor – Ice

Dep Editor – Pup

Vice Pres – Daze

Exec VP – Six

Ace Reporter – Johnnie

Scoop Reporter – Scratchomo

Editorial

To accede to PolarB’s demands I now post my “one day late” Friday Fun Facts about Ice.

1. I love music, and given a choice would let television, computers, and all the rest disappear, as long as I had my music.
2. I love my wife of almost 5 years and miss her every time we are away from each other.
3. I am constantly searching for the last 35 years.  I know they are around here somewhere.
4. I get a lot of enjoyment out of the stream and writing this “rag”, and all my friends that are on it.
5. I have a few bad habits which I enjoy immensely. 

Nam continued……

I spent the afternoon at the motor pool doing pretty much nothing.  Joe Jennings, one of the mechanics was a friend of mine, and I helped him a little on a truck he was working on, but basically we spent the afternoon talking about Sydney, Australia. He was taking his 7-day R&R (rest and relaxation) there in a few days, which is where I’d gone back in July on my own R&R, and he was interested in what I had to say about the Australian city.  And since I’d overstayed my welcome by some 20 days I had plenty to tell.  

Of course turning a 7-day R&R into a “27-day, fun filled excursion”, did not impress the U.S. Army in general, nor my Company Commander specifically.  I was charged with “absence with out leave”, other wise known as AWOL, for the last 20 days, and it took a lot of talking by “Top” and me to hang on to my stripes. 

Finally the CO let the charges drop, and I was ordered to “donate” a hundred bucks to the “Old Soldiers Home”, which went into his pocket, and was put on “extra duty” for a month.  All in all I got off easy, and if I’d known how it was all going to shake out, I think I would of went ahead and stayed a few more days. Anyway Joe and I talked most of the afternoon away and around five o’clock I borrowed a jeep, and motored up the hill to the Officer’s Club, to see if I could find Squeaky.

The “Officer’s Club”, was situated on a small hill about 3 miles from the company area, kind of removed from things, which was probably designed that way, because it got pretty rowdy there fairly often. 

Squeaky, or “Mister Durant”, (Mister being the proper military way to address Warrant Officers), was one of the main instigators of many of those rowdy times, since he had a propensity for saying the wrong thing, at the wrong time, especially after having a couple of drinks.

I figured my chances were good that he would be there, for if he wasn’t flying he was drinking, and it was my guess that he’d been piloting the chopper I’d seen earlier, and by now, ought to be settled in at his customary spot at the bar. The reason I wanted to see him was to find out whether or not he was flying the next morning, and if he wasn’t, I wanted him to pull a switcharoo, so that he would be.

Flying with Squeaky was always fun because unless the Colonel was aboard, I could ride in the gunner’s door and take target practice with the M-60 machine gun. Once when shooting at a piece of wood floating in the ocean, I spotted a fishing boat in the distance, and getting on the intercom I told him we ought to “buzz” it, and make sure they were really fishing. Which I immediately regretted when he dropped and banked so hard that I was grabbing ahold of anything I could to keep from falling out, even though I was seat belted in. As it was, the boat was legit, and after flying over it a couple of times, we continued on our trip, although I was less inclined to point out any more potential “buzz” targets.

I found him at the bar nursing a “bloody mary”, which probably meant he was flying tomorrow, otherwise he would of been drinking bourbon and water, which was his favorite drink to forget the fact that he was nothing more than a “damn taxi driver”, in his words, for the Colonel and his fat buddies. 

Squeaky’s one goal in life was to be in the 1st Cav, or the Big Red One; both were infantry units, which according to him, was where the action was, and he was constantly putting in for transfers; the problem was that the Colonel knew how good a pilot Squeaky was, and wasn’t keen to let him go.

The Young Rascals were singing about  “Groovin on a Sunday Afternoon”, on the juke box that had been acquired somehow, by Squeaky and another chopper pilot, several months before, and he was reading what looked like a letter from home.

I sat down next to him and ordered a beer; Rocky the enlisted man, who was the bartender just looked at me, until Squeaky said, “get him a beer Rock,” without looking up.  While Rocky was getting my beer I looked around the club; there were a couple of Lieutenants at the other end of the bar, but they paid no attention to me, or the fact that I wasn’t an officer.

“You flying in the morning”?

“Yeah, I’m taking your sorry ass to Song Mao with those new M-16 rifles, and the Colonel’s going too”, he said, still not looking at me, as he added, “So don’t jump in the gunners spot, it pisses Donnie off when you do that”. “Donnie” was his mechanic/door gunner who had only been in country for a month, and who, I’d never met before.  Squeaky was actually talking about Cal Drummond, who Donnie had replaced, but I wasn’t going to correct him, because he knew that.  It was just his way of screwing with me.

The fact that he already knew I was going to Song Mao, meant that he’d probably talked to Top, and not wanting to go there again, I told him I’d see him in the morning, and got up to leave.

Looking up from the letter, he smiled and said, “and you call me a risk taker”.  17 fucking days left in country and you’re going to Song Mao”. 

“Yeah, and with the best pilot in Vietnam flying the chopper, who always tells me that flying around these parts is like being a taxi driver back in the world”.

He was back to reading his letter as I walked away.  When I went out the door I glanced back at him; he was looking at me, smiling. 

The Weekend…..

“You ready for this”, I said as we walked down the steps.

“Sure Tyler”, Diane said, “but you don’t mind either, and you know it”.

I laughed as I slipped my sunglasses back on, and waited for her to mount the cycle.  After she was on, I got on and as I settled in the seat, I leaned back against her and said, “okay, but don’t ask me to play volleyball”.

She laughed and said, “drive on James”.

We rode down the road for about a mile before the clubhouse came into view; it was a long, two-story, white brick building, that looked fairly new, and one that a lot of glass had been smartly blended in with the brick, and highlighted by wood trim painted a soft blue. There were only a few trees, but they were all big, and their limbs provided a huge area of cool looking shade on both sides of the building, while all along the front was waist high shrubbery, neatly trimmed, and complimented by the lush, green lawn.

As we cruised into the parking lot, it was as if I’d been transported to a different world.  Here, people, adults and kids, were walking around doing normal stuff, stark naked.  Unloading their cars, carrying picnic baskets and ice chests, they went about normal, routine activities apparently unruffled by the fact that nobody had any clothes on.  It had been weird to be around the little naked guy at the office, but here, in the middle of a parking lot with more naked people than I’d ever seen before in one spot, I, along with Diane, by being dressed, were the ones who were “out of the ordinary”.

We did see a man and a woman, sorta like us because they still had clothes on, but that didn’t last long; for as they were getting out of a red corvette in front of us, they were also coming out of their clothes about as fast.

The woman, who looked to be in her early to mid twenties, was getting out on the passenger side of the car; naked from the waist up, her perfectly shaped and tanned breasts jiggling a ‘happy hello’ to one and all.

I’m sure she had other physical attributes, besides her breasts, but I would have been hard pressed to describe them, her other attributes that is, even a few minutes later. However, I do think she was a brunette, though I couldn’t be sure, cause I really hadn’t noticed the hair, or nothing else for that matter, and although I looked for her later, after Diane and I had showered and joined the nakedness, I never saw her again.

Anyway, right at that moment, as we were coming to a stop in our parking space, Diane poked me in the back, and following her gaze I saw a semi large group of naked men and women playing volleyball, on our side of the clubhouse. The area they were playing on was completely covered with sand, which appeared to be quite deep, and I wondered how easy it was to play on.

They were yelling and jumping around like any other ordinary group of people playing volleyball, they just didn’t have clothes on, and therefore there was quite a bit of extra visual movement going on.  Several small groups of equally naked spectators stood around and cheered them on.  Made up of all shapes and sizes, most appeared to be in their thirties and forties, although there were some that looked a little younger or older. They all appeared to be having a good time, their nudity seemingly a non-issue, as they enjoyed the sunny day.

We continued to watch them as we got off the bike, taking in the whole scene.  I got a cigarette from my pack and lit it, wondering out loud what I was going to do for pockets, which made Diane laugh.

A naked couple in their forties walked past us, with towels draped over their shoulders.  The man was tall, probably an inch or two over six feet, at least, while the woman was short like Diane, which gave them a “Mutt and Jeff” look. We fell in behind them, following them down the little sidewalk; toward an area that signs in the grass told us were “the showers”.

The shower area could accommodate six people at a time, and it was empty at the moment, except for the couple in front of us and, of course us.  The naked man and woman each took a shower area, turned on the water and began to rinse off.  Diane was taking off her shorts, as I was looking around somewhat self consciously, smoking my cigarette.  She looked at me as she took off her top, she had not worn a bra, and said, “in a minute you’re going to be the only one here with clothes on”.

So…. I stripped off my shirt, and stepped out of my levi cutoffs, with Diane looking at me in surprise when she saw I hadn’t worn underwear. 

I just smiled at her and said, “I guess we were both thinking along the same line, uh”?

Stepping underneath the shower, I turned on the water and rinsed, noticing that the other couple was already drying off over by some double glass doors that led into the clubhouse.  I could see other people inside, sipping on cold drinks and milling about, and I assumed that the guest book we were supposed to sign was located somewhere in there. 

About this time a group of about 15 men and women, all naked, arrived at the showers, so to make room we hurried up a little, and stepped out of the way, leaving the water on for the new arrivals.

As we dried ourselves, drying each other’s back, I suddenly became oblivious to what was going on around me, as I tried to blend in with all the other naked people.