I can only recall one instance in 47 years of defecating and urinating in public restrooms in which I have shown my pecker or seen a pecker. Of course, some of that experience may be fogged by the radioactive forces of alcohol, so if a currently unknown seeing presents itself in the form of a witness of me being present when peckers were freely being exhibited in a public restroom than my defense would be inadmissible.
The lone experience of pecker exhibition that I can recall was at a place called the Kinderhouse. It was a building in the middle of a small Ohio town that was utilized to tame and civilize little savages into obedient and patriotic lead headed servants of industry. I was a little savage then and while urinating into a urinal another little savage came up behind me and claimed personal ownership of the urinal that I was relieving myself with. Me, having recently been conditioned to respect the property of others, stopped using his claimed urinal and turned in midstream and pissed on the little savages leg. And as savages and the civilized have done since the dawn of human consciousness; two little savages attempted to settle this dispute over ownership of property with violence. Two little savages were sent home with letters recording the event in minimal detail and were ostracized by dictatorial authority from the rest of the little savages by having our daily nourishment of juice and cookies withheld as a form of corrective action. The corrective action must have been effective since it was the last and only time that I have wielded or seen a pecker wielded in a public place of defecation and urination.
Today, if I were to blindly follow and agree with the most ardent supporters of not being politically correct, I would be in support of forcing transgendered folks to use a brick wall or the woods to relieve themselves. I can understand the fear of the known coming to an end with allowing men in makeup to relieve themselves in a ladies restroom. On the surface without much reflection, I couldn’t really argue with the bashers of The Boss. Having once used the ladies room in error, I understand the weirdness of the sacred held gender-specific practice of public defecation and urination being sinned against. I was around 16 or 17 years of age when it happened. After a night of hard drinking, drugging and sleeping on pine needles by a fire fueled by rotting pine, I was transported to the Eastwood Mall by my beloved mother for some reason that I am certain that I could not scheme out of. I was terribly hungover and a miserable wreck. All, I can really remember is that I went straight to piss when we arrived at the mall. I remember pissing into a bowl and wondering why there were no urinals in the room. I instantly recognized my error and felt grateful that I was without company in this alien room. It may have been the last time that I have not at least ran hot water over my hands after pissing in a public bathroom. For evacuating, that room was paramount to my safety of being a sane and lawful abiding being. I was fearful of being arrested since I instantly figured that there was a law in place to keep unauthorized peckers out of ladies rooms, and my pecker was certainly unauthorized to be there. As I opened the door with a great feeling of relief, I met a middle-aged caucasian lady whose eyes grew in bewilderment as they met mine. My relief turned to despair as her eyes left mine and looked upon the sign above the door. I could feel her eyes judgment burning into my back as I hurried away full of innocent guilt and fear. I escaped that experience without legal prosecution, but the shame of my own self-prosecution lasted for quite some time as my conscience persecuted me over my own stupidity and lack of awareness on that long ago miserable morning. The sacredness of honoring gender specific body relieving privately, publicly has long been conditioned into my own rule of conscience. So to understand this for myself requires deeper inquiry with giving my conditioned conscience a recess.
I reckon that when a man is pissing in a public urinal that there are only two places to focus one’s eyesight as to avoid being caught looking at other peckers. One is to look straight forward into the wall and the other is to look at one’s own pecker without any use of peripheral vision. A third method available is to close one’s eyes which will guarantee one of never being accused of being a pecker checker, but this method opens up the possibility of being pecker checked for those that are not comfortable with their manhood. Now, the urinal has been around for a hundred and fifty years having been invented and patented by Andrew Rankin in 1866 and I think we would be hard-pressed to find more than a dozen or so individuals that would admit to having been a pecker checker since the urinal’s initial arrival. I suppose even the gayest of gays respect the practice of unobserved pissing in public. It’s just common courtesy to not be a pecker checker no matter the sexual preference. I would also add that I have been to a concert or two where ladies have invaded the men’s room to relieve themselves in my and other males presence due to the long lines to the ladies rooms. Not one man rose protest to this invasion during these experiences. The ladies were welcomed and even brought the level of joy among the men to a higher state as I recall. I think we all like a little privacy when relieving ourselves and mostly give the same privacy to others that we such desire for ourselves regardless of genders. At the core, the battle over gender and public bathroom seems an issue over property rights. Privacy is a non-issue, especially in a ladies room where urinals are not useful and doors hide each toilet. Now if there are no doors, then the concern would be understandable. This battle seems more about property that is being invaded. The known lines on the map of gender being invaded by lipsticked peckers. What great despair is created when the known is at threat and the resulting stupidity out of that despair knows no bounds. Change is always more difficult for us than it should be it seems.
The main inspiration for this tripe is the heat that I notice being directed towards Bruce Springsteen and his choice to pass over the state of North Carolina due to that state’s regulation of public defecation and urination physicalities. I see that some protest, that an artist of this significance would use his popularity as a tool for activism. They say that there is no room for art and activism to play a role together. I reckon these same lead headed individuals would raise holy hell if the music at their Sunday Church service were to be abolished due to these lame brained selfish type perspectives. We Shall Overcome, I sing, I sing, I sing, in defiance to these idiotic perspectives.
Stay well, and piss and shit with lovingly integrated intelligent peacefulness towards thyself and others….. or don’t.