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the ancient nudie calendar hanging on the bathroom wall of my grandparent’s summer cottage claimed it was august year around. betty page wannabe girls posed carefully so not to reveal too much. clear acetate overlays printed with precisely registered artificial clothing hid the naughty bits. lifting the plastic layer would strip the calendar girl of her tiny bikini, skimpy underwear or fuzzy negligee revealing a butt cheek or on the rare occasion a single nipple.
at 6 years old, i was to short to reach the calendar. i considered standing on the toilet to reach it but feared the slightest noise (not associated with defecation) would alert my parents of my miscreant behavior. i feared they would burst through the door to find me kissing the calendar. kissing, because, that's what my friend bradley told me you were supposed to do to a naked woman. I told him i already knew that.
a few summers later, i had grown several inches taller and i looked forward to visiting the cottage. although i still didn't know much about naked women, the calendar created a feeling of urgency and made me want to do something, but i didn't know what. height no longer a hindrance to calendar access, a new hindrance was born. paranoia destroyed all hopes of exploring both the calendar and myself. i was certain my parents would notice the calendar's position on the wall had ultramicroscopically shifted or a finger print analysis of the acetate overlay would reveal my evil intentions.
eventually the calendar was removed when my grandparents retired to the cottage. grandma's interior design sensibilities did not include antiquated pinup style porn. it was gone, and my explorations had never made it past the ankles of miss september. ankles that were revealed to me at the peek of my bravery when i once used a pencil to carefully lift august, but just enough to reveal the lower portions of september's photo.
the calendar was my first porn (or so what i thought was porn). i'm certain that years of forbidden fruit temptations offered by the calendar resulted in my fetish for the betty page 50's style pin up girl style. kinda sick how the human brain works. I'm still trying to figure out where the chocolate covered midgets riding public transportation fetish began.
ultra note - i think it is important for younger readers to know there was a day before the porn home delivery system (internet) existed. and in that day, us oldtimers had to walk up hill both ways for our porn. porn that wouldn't even raise the eyebrow of today's jaded porn freaks surfing for lesbian farm animals in rubber wear action.