It struck me today as I spent three hours bare-chested on the beach that it felt normal. Not just to me, I mean. Bare-chestedness almost always feels normal to me now. I mean it felt like it felt normal to the people around me. It wasn’t crowded but it wasn’t empty either and we walked miles along the surf and passed people all day long. They would nod their greetings, chat briefly, some didn’t even notice me. Two grandparents with a five-year-old grandson set their chairs near us. A park employee gave me a thumbs up (must have read the blog).
And on my walk through D.C. with Raven last week, we spent about…
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