Why You Should Go To a Nude Beach in Classic Five Paragraph Essay Form

Why You Should Go To a Nude Beach in Classic Five Paragraph Essay Form


In that drawling Southern way that renders even the word “penis” into a charming common noun, Ken’s friend from North Carolina explained how she found out what her son calls his junk.

“But what if my nude gets cold?” he asked her- although maybe not because the use of the word “nude” is more clear to my memory than the situation itself.  Also the word “watermelon” for a girl’s bits, which sent me into equally delighted giggles.  Regardless, “nude” is a funny word, especially when you play with pronouncing it in various accents and mutations (nyuuuuuuuuuuude).  “Nude beach”, however, changes the brain.  A nude beach conjures images of sun, sand, and both northern and southern exposures.  Should you do it?  Could you do it?


You should go to a nude beach because it’s the least fatal thing on your bucket list; because preparing for it is stimulating in that shivery “this is a brand new thing” way you don’t get much after, say, college; and because afterward, you will be able to drop lines like “I was naked in public in the land of the blue-footed booby!” into otherwise dreadful conversations, and then proudly but casually walk away.


Bucket lists tend to include things like skydiving, which is flat-out horrifying until you are (worst case) actually flat out.  Legal public nudity, however, is only scary in a mental way, especially considering each of us shares the same parts with approximately 50% of 7 billion people.  This is something you can tell yourself while looking critically in the mirror after buying the ferry ticket to the nude beach island, which is 32 miles off the coast of Panama, which is 4,786.7 miles from your home and everyone you know.  You will not die of body shame in front of isolated island Panamanians and the occasional femur-sized lizard.  Piece of birthday suit cake!


You should also consider the naked sunbathing because it is very, very fun to get ready.  For example during your preparatory shower, you can make up songs like “I Have Confidence In Nude Beaches” to sing in your Maria Von Trapp voice, or “I Can See Clearly Now, My Clothes Are Gone” in your best Johnny Nash.  Your pleased pituitary gland will start churning out oxytocin, while your endorphins will act as bouncers for any stress that wants to come in.  It’s true; science says so!  Or at least the studies referenced in an August 16, 2013, time.com article called “Singing Changes Your Brain” do.  That, and the anecdotal evidence I can provide re: the excitement I felt for doing a new thing- of which there don’t seem to be a ton in the post-college era- should convince you.  I wiggled like a hyperactive earthworm all morning.


Not all agree that nudity is acceptable behavior.  In fact, Dennis Prager defended the opposite view in 2013 in a National Review article entitled “Why Public Nudity is Wrong”:

“When human beings walk around with their genitals uncovered, they are behaving in a manner indistinguishable from that of animals. A major difference between humans and animals is clothing; clothing separates us from — and in the biblical view, elevates us above — the animal kingdom. Seeing any animal’s genitals is normal. Anyone who demanded that animals’ genitals be covered would be regarded as a nut by the most religious Jew or Christian. But one of our human tasks is to elevate ourselves above the animal. And covering our genitals is one important way to do that.”

I would like to contend that the preceding paragraph is, in academic terms, hooey.  I can agree that there are times I would definitely like my clothing to separate myself from animals, but I mean that in the physical sense of preferring that the aforementioned iguana dig its claws into my sweater instead of my epidermis.  Frankly, Dennis Prager seems one of those people who partake in dreadful conversations.  Go ahead and interrupt him with your go-to exit line.

“I got naked with the boobies!” you can say, and then leave.  He doesn’t have to know that boobies are birds.


Nude beaches are perhaps not for everyone, but I do recommend them to those who don’t have a superiority complex over like, every other living creature that exists.  I felt more alive, in fact, in my quest to this Isla Contadora, and I dare even say more connected.  So do it, y’all, show us your nude!

I’m calling it a bare necessity.


I have never worked as hard to get anywhere as I did to get to that stupid beach yesterday.  I loaded my backpack with a map, SPF, and almost three liters of water for my hike off the ferry, and then set out with giddiness and glee; but alas, it was not to be.

Dang island didn’t have any signs, and all the “roads” looked like this:


I tramped three miles in the noonday sun in well over 100 degrees, completely alone but with the forest rustling around me like the monster from LOST was on my path and bonus: it smelled suspiciously like the monster was a bulk marijuana farmer armed with machetes and guns.  The situation was not conducive to peace of mind.  When I finally, drenched in tributaries of sweat, located the beach, it was from up here:


and I couldn’t find any path down!  Walked an hour more approaching from every which way, including an alarming algae rock crawl.

“Forget it,” I thought, and then another “f” word followed by “it”.  “If you can’t find the nude beach, make your own!”

So I peeled off my suit and did just that.