Topless women are cute photo subjects. At least in the US. But I might not be so much better myself, though …
I read in Dagbladet.no about feminists in New York who demonstrate for the right to go topless in the streets on equal footing with men. The mayor of New York, Bill de Blasio, has recently announced higher penalties against public nudity, because young women, wearing body Paint, only, are offering tourists to take pictures of themselves for money. Some of these women have been fairly pushy, according to the New York newspaper Daily News.
Pictured in the Dagbladet I see how a seemingly ordinary American tourist flips out during the half-naked parade. Well, Times Square isn’t exactly like anywhere else in the US, but also here we find the dodgy American mentality to bare tits. There are obviously no problems for US medias to publish blood and violence at close range, while the shadow of a female nipple under a formal costume is being censored by the book.
I prefer our Scandinavian mentality. How many women – or men, for that matter – really wants to walk around topless in Times Square or Karl Johan?
It limits itself.
But the American male tourist, who filmed the procession in New York, made me think of an incident I personally experienced a few years ago.
It was the first time I drove the coastal road between LA and San Francisco, Highway 1, one of the most beautiful journeys. I’m telling you, this is one of the trips you should have taken before you die.
It was a quiet afternoon with blue sky and sunshine. I had passed Santa Cruz on my way up to San Fransisco and enjoyed the tunes from an «easy listening» radio channel. The road goes along the sandy cliffs directly facing the Pacific Ocean. As usual, I had my camera ready in case something beautiful should show up along my way.
On the way down from a hilltop, I saw it. Cars parked crisscrossed along the road and a bunch of people on one of the cliffs. I got my car hastily parked into a narrow spot, pulled the Nikon equipment over my shoulder and hurried out towards the others on the cliff. It was really hot, and a telephoto lens made of real glass weigh a lot. I noted approvingly nods from people I met along the pathway.
Make way! Here comes the master photographer!
I’ve always dreamed of being a news reporter – one that is right where things happen in the world to take pictures and broadcast the message to the entire globe. I wondered what I was going to see out there on the cliff. I imagined stranded whales, seals and sea lions, – perhaps nesting eagles?
I speeded up a little.
Once out on the cliff I saw the others, most middle-aged men. Everyone took pictures. They moved politely aside to make room for the young man who had dragged along professional photo gear – equipment to capture all the details.
From the tip of the cliff, I saw what was happening far below. And it was … really nothing. Just an ordinary nudist beach with ordinary, naked people catching a little sun and swimming around.
If I had hurried to get there, I was probably even faster to get me back to the car. Blushing red I threw the photo gear into the car and went off with a scream from the tyres against the hot tarmac.
😳 Thanks for the look and good bye.
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