Note: I yanked this one out of the archives due to the “Fantasy Island” discussion a few posts back…
Bather #1: “I just found out about a place called Fire Island! I understand that I can find my people there. I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to learn that there is a magical place where my painful upbringing in Oklahoma can be transformed into a Broadway play about redemption, resurgence and a satisfying dollop of revenge. Of course, nobody in Oklahoma will ever see that play, because Jesus will smite them if they do, but still. My people!”
Bather #2: “My breasts are not on speaking terms at the moment. I don’t know what happened. But it reminds me of growing up in Alabama, when the Whites and the Blacks had to drink from different water fountains. It’s still happening today, of course, because all the white officials who win rigged elections (“don’t let them colored folks vote!”) give a wink and a nod to “equality”, a concept that has never crossed the state line.
Bather #3: “Yes, I am wearing a bathing suit. Not that it would matter, because there ain’t nuthin’ up in this cargo hold. But that’s exactly why I voted for Trump, because his package is just as empty and I identify with his stunning inability to offer anything worthwhile. Four more vapid years!”
Bather #4: “I just made a post on social media that I’m really lonely and depressed and then I signed out without any further explanation. Please click like. But before you go, please watch this video I posted of me cleaning out the lint trap on the dryer. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to a steamy romance. Except for that one Surprising Sunday in the barn. But my pastor (I’m not sure why he was there, but he was, maybe it was the primo moonshine from Grandpappy’s still in the hayloft) said I really shouldn’t talk about my fondness for livestock.
Bather #5: “What do you mean I look like I drink a lot of beer, with my trimester belly. Of COURSE I drink. Have you not met the four other people in this lineup of why some people should never leave the house? Well, except for Bather #1, my cousin Bruce. I really hope he makes it to Fire Island and Broadway. Because the thought of good people never getting the chance to sing their troubles away makes me want to drink more beer. And excessive alcohol consumption never really works out in the end. Unless you voted for Trump and you’re trying to negate your idiocy.”
Bather #5.5: “The plane! The plain!”
Previously published, modified considerably for this post.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
That was good and funny.
It made me think of Frank O’Hara (who I don’t know that much about other than his great poem The Day Lady Died) which led me to this:
https://fireisland-news.com/history-frank-ohara-poetry-and-death-on-fire-island/
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I didn’t really know much about Frank O’Hara, either, but the link you provided is a fascinating story. Apparently I need to do a bit more research here, so I appreciate you opening a new door, as I relish going through such…
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When “the girls” reach the size that bather#2 is carrying around, they naturally fly to opposite sides once unleashed from the torture devices called bras. They spend so much time mooshed together they naturally want their own space.
It’s understandable.
Or, perhaps they’re practicing social distancing 🤔🤷🏼♀️😂
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Your comment is total perfection.
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Thank you🤗
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Angie, I’m with Peggy. Your comments are always fun, but this one is especially shiny… 😉
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Bather 5.5 should be yelling “the pain, the pain!” He does seem to be undergoing some sort of delivery from the crotch of Bather 3. Oh! I get it; that’s the jaundiced toupee of your national head. And it doesn’t matter a whit which one. Since there’s nothing inside it, no need to worry what’s on top of it. 😉
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That visual tableau truly captures an odd configuration. As do the political polls in this country. Nothing inside, but so many people are still willing to join hands and raise high the Jaundiced Toupee…
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thanks so much for this historical/hysterical explanation of things
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Looking at the photo above again I was reminded of the wonderful Pierre Laconte film The Hairdressers Husband.
A couple of scenes came to mind, one is of the “the hairdresser’s husband” at the beach as a child when he has wear a chaffing wool bathing suit (similar to the ones worn in the photo) that has tassels with little balls on the end and the other is also of him as a child (and which is the source of his obsession with hairdressers) in which before he enters her shop he accidentally observes his woman barber adjusting her ample bosom and later, in the same scene, while she is leaning over him while cutting his hair she catches him peaking at he breasts. Anyway, I had more or less forgotten about this movie (and other films by Laconte) and I think I’m past due to revisit them. I looked to see if those specific clips were available on YouTube and only found a portion of the latter.
The full movie and other clips can be found here.
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Ooh, I’m going to look for this film- thanks!
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Rhedbuds, I must say that you are proffering up some really interesting comments. (And I mean that in a good rather than a sarcastic way.) I’m quite pleased that you managed to find Bonnywood, and I hope that you continue to comment and share. (And, as with Beth, I plan on tracking this movie down, if such is possible.)
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Thanks Brian! I tried to comment/post a couple of other times, once a post with a photo from the set of Gone With The Wind and another with photos from Strangers On A Train, but couldn’t figure out how to do so and add photos so I ended up finding your Facebook page and sent them in imessanger.. I never heard back so I figured either you didn’t use Facebook much or you didn’t care much for what I sent.
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Oh, my apologies for not getting the photos you sent on Facebook. It’s true that I’m rarely on that site. (My feed looks like I’m on there much more often, but almost all of my Facebook updates are sent from WordPress or Twitter.) I’ll hop over there in a bit and see if I can resuscitate you generous sharings…
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Sorry Beth, I didn’t mean that as a reply to your comment. It was intended to be a general comment.
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Thanks, Beth. I do what I can. Perhaps I was a documentarian in a past life? I’ll keep you posted… 😉
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and thanks in advance for that
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I believe you missed bather #6 who had very unfortunate positioning in that photo.
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Hmm. By bather #6, do you possibly mean bather #5.5, who did receive a small (ahem) bit of acknowledgement in the dialogue? Or is there actually another cast member that my fading eyesight failed to perceive?
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Look closely at the middle male bather. There’s an extra head between his legs….
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Yep, that odd extra head is indeed Bather #5.5. Sometimes my little stories don’t quite make things clear…
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Bather #1: A bit entitled because he’s got a tan, while the others are that pasty white-ish shade found on people whose skin never sees any natural light. But in places like Minnesota, exposing your parts to the sun might just get them frost bitten..
Bather #2: WMD like hers need their space. Friction might set them off.. Someone could get their eye poked out or at least get a skull fracture if one of the WMDs hits them in the head…those things have to weight a good 40 lbs each.. I wonder. Does she qualify for disability due to a bad back?
Bather #3: Anorexia in anyone is not a good look. That guy needs to eat some corn or some carbohydrates. He needs significant fattening up..
Bather #4: Has that sour expression on her face because she’s jealous of Bather #2 and her 40 lbs ‘girls’. But she doesn’t suffer from a bad back, only the dreaded “knockers on the knees’ phenomenon. Well those things are drifting that way any how. Will reach ground zero too, if she doesn’t buy some support for them.
Bather #5: Angry at Bather #1 because of the whole tan and white linen slacks ensemble. This was supposed to be a SWIMMING/bathing party, not cocktails on the Leido deck..
Bather #5.5: It’s good that Bather#3 doesn’t have any significant lower entanglements. Nobody likes getting beaned in the head with sweaty balls, do they?
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I officially concede that you provided a much better interpretation of this photo than I did. I thought I was being clever, but you left me in the dust. Go on, take the funny and run. (“This is a story about Brian Joe and Melanie Sue…”)
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You honor me Brian Joe. We’re merely two sides of a rather odd coin, which glitters whichever way it’s turned. Your interpretation was spot on, and after all you found the photo first. I was just joining the parade.. Thank you!
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Doubtless Fire Island = Fantasy Island for many a wanderer.
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I’ve never been but, oh, did I yearn about it from rural Oklahoma…
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On so many levels, this is perhaps one of the more disturbing photos in your collection. Primarily because it’s real life and not some promo shot.
Seriously, what’s #5.5 doing down there? And why isn’t #3 happier about it? And please, someone, give #2 a chair ’cause her back is aching lugging those melons around everywhere!
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Yep, it’s a disturbing photo. But it’s also an honest one, and that’s what got my attention (along with the rainbow hint at the beginning of the sordid conga line; my gaydar pinged instantly). Life is messy, and sometimes we capture that mess at just the right moment…
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