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Tony Lawrence: Jack and Jean
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"Dig a hole and bury that one up to his neck, and then call
for the Royal Cattle. We shall have a Trampling". Jean is
standing beside me on my deck, and we are pretending to be
King and Queen to the nudist "peasants" standing on the
lawn in front of us.
We're being goofy. The weather this morning is drizzly and
overcast. We are all wearing clothes because it is only
60 degrees, there is no sun, and although the rain is so
light as to be almost unnoticeable, it still serves to
chill bare skin. We are bored, and in need of distraction.
"Let us emasculate this one in honor of the bulls", I suggest,
pointing to my next door neighbor who has been fighting a cold
all weekend. Jean's eyebrows arch. She is a natural ham,
and has wonderful facial expressions. "Excellent", she agrees,
"and this one shall be our Royal Cook and wait upon my every
whim". She has selected Jack, her real life companion.
Jack protests that he does not want to be the Royal Cook. Jean's
eyes flash. "Ingrate. We could have buried him for the Royal
Trampling, or put him to the Royal Knife. We offer him a
respectable position, and he spurns us? Bring forth the hot oil!"
That's Jean. I don't remember just when we first met her and
Jack, but we both liked them immediately. Linda liked Jack's
gentle nature, his soft spoken humor. I appreciated his quick
wit and musical abilities. And we both were in awe of Jean.
Jean is a tall, very Irish red head. Fair skinned, she's seldom
completely nude unless she is in shade. Quick, bright, and
always full of fun: the camp is noticeably different when
she is not there.
Both Jack and Jean add so much to camp life. At a party, you'll
find Jack playing guitar and singing. If there have been decorations,
Jean probably had a hand in their making. If people are laughing at
the fire, it's a good bet you'll find Jean in the center of them.
But all is not happy here. There is a dark side, there is great sorrow,
and there is pain.
First of all, Jack is as much of a klutz as I am. Although
he himself might contest this evaluation, this is the judgement
of Manly Men who are decidedly not klutzes. These men have gone
so far as to suggest that Jack and I should be the stars of a new
TV show called "Camp Time" where two incompetent boobs go about
destroying a nudist camp with their well intentioned bumbling.
What makes it all the more unfortunate is that Jack and Jean bought
a trailer that was mere steps from trailer heaven when they purchased
it. They got a good deal; the price was measured in hundreds rather
than thousands, and you can hardly complain that a few things here
and there were missing or not working. As we all know, a handy
man can often turn a bargain like this into a show place. Unfortunately,
Jack has a way to go before anyone, no matter how confused they are,
would call him a handy man.
Don't get me wrong. I admire Jack. He can play guitar, and sing, and
he is a professional photographer to boot, and I am completely
incompetent in all those areas. I also have been told by my wife that
Jack can dance, which makes him all the more remarkable in my eyes. It
has also been noted that Jack cooks, and cooks well, while my culinary
efforts are confined to things that have clear microwave instructions. There
is therefor little doubt that, overall, with everything considered, Jack
is twice the man I am.
In truth, I give Jack credit for one more thing: he's got guts. For
example, last weekend Jack went out and bought new screening for his trailer
door, and after minimal instructions from a salesperson, and without
the assistance of Bob Villa or Time-Life Books, actually essayed to
install this.
It may be simply that I am older than Jack, and therefor have more
experience with the bitter pills that life will serve to people like
us when we attempt projects outside of our natural abilities. Or
it maybe that Jack is simply by nature more optimistic, or simply
more stubborn. Or perhaps he still has vestiges of manly pride.
Who knows? At any rate, Saturday morning found Jack stretching
screening across his aluminum door.
I'm sure everyone understands that simply removing the door and successfully
re-hanging it would have impressed the hell out of me. To actually
have serious intent to install screening simply left me awe-struck.
It is true that Jack did stick his finger right through the new screen
more than once. It is true that "tight" would not serve to describe
the complete lack of tension that the finished product exhibited. Jack
was fatalistic about it; perhaps he is learning the lesson all of
us klutzes must learn: keep your expectations low and you will
not be nearly so disappointed and depressed.
But there is more. Jack's clumsiness with tools is a minor character
flaw at worst. He may bumble, but he harms no one. This is not
at all the case with Jean. Beneath the oh-so-nice exterior, Jean
is a sadistic and extraordinarily cruel woman. Many are fooled by
those dancing eyes and her open smile, but beneath this facade lives
a mind of cruel evil. I could give literally hundreds of examples of
her callous disregard for human suffering, her uncaring attitude toward
other people's pain, but I think just one short vignette from this past
weekend will suffice.
You need to first understand that although I have never done
anything but fawn at her feet, Jean has always treated me with
disdain. Try as I may to win her over, or at least bring her
to a point where she will accept me rather than disliking
me so intensely, all my efforts have been in vain. For example.
we had arrived at camp last Friday perhaps a half hour earlier
than Jack and Jean. They drove in as they usually do, calling out to
folks around the campfire, acting like the perfect, happy couple that
they appear to be. After they unpacked, they walked by our place,
and I greeted Jean by pretending to hug her while surreptitiously
slipping my leg behind her knee and tipping her over backward onto
the ground. As anyone who has every been to Ireland can attest,
this is a sign of both respect and great admiration, and I was hoping
that my actions would bridge the widening gap of hatred that
has grown between us in the past year.
But this was not to be. After recovering her footing, Jean proceeded
to pound her fists most viciously into my left shoulder while
spewing obscenities at me. It was not enough for her to hit me
once, she hit me again and again, and believe me, she is a very
strong woman, and my arm suffered almost as much as my pride.
As I'm sure you are starting to see, Jean has the unsuspecting
nudists of Berkshire Vista completely fooled. THEY all think she's
a wonderful, sweet person. I know better, but no one listens to me.
Tony Lawrence, apl@ 07/01/96
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