The Nekkid King of The Jungle

The Big Woods was where we spent a great deal of our free time. The trees there seemed to reach the sky and in the summer they provided a great source of shade to hide us from the hot Southern sun. The main action area for us was at the bottom of a valley that ran the length of the woods. At the bottom of this valley was a large tree that had fallen and it was appropriately named, The Big Log. It served as a great gathering place to choose sides for a war or to gather to begin a trip into the jungle.

Since we were in a valley, it was a great place to pretend that we could not hear our Moms when they called for us to come home. As I would explain it to my Mom, she was in our backyard calling our names in our general direction and that she had the basics properly executed. When she shouted out my name I was down in a valley and the sound waves that carried her voice continued to travel in a straight line and so, her voice was simply going over our heads. With her voice being so far over the listening reach of our ears, we could not hear her. If we could not hear her we were under no obligation to come home.

That was a beauty of an explanation on why we ignored her. It all fell apart about a second after I uttered my final word. One big mistake that most young men make when dealing with their mothers is forgetting that Moms are smart, much smarter than her young man cubs. Moms have a sense that men will never possess and that sense is labeled as Mother’s Intuition. When explaining my lack of a response when she was calling us home, I could have loaded my lie with great facts. The gravitational pull of the earth on sound waves or wind speed and direction would change the course of sounds, I was hiding inside The Big Log and sound could not penetrate wood. The snappiest reason that I always wanted to give to her was, “Mom are you sick, do you not feel good? Your voice sounds really weak like maybe you have a sore throat.” As soon as I took a breath to begin my first word, her Mother’s Intuition switch clicked into the On position. It was easy to detect when my great fact filled speech was going down in flames. Moms will give you a piece of a smile that would be punctuated by occasional “Really” or “Interesting” or the worst sign of all, “That’s nice”. When the smile turns itself upside down it’s time to put your verbal shovel away and stop digging yourself deeper into your hole made of lies. Boys and men, don’t ever forget that super power that God bestowed upon women. It never goes away and it gets much more powerful with age.

While we were hanging out in the woods our identities and even our personalities could change. The change was made to match the characters in whatever adventure captured our time on any random day. It was uncanny how we walked and talked and behaved when we transformed. This was role playing at its finest. Picture it, a 10 year boy suddenly became a grizzly old Army Sergeant or a straight laced fighter pilot.

Think of it this way, when most of us are driving we have music playing. While the music plays, we sing along. As if by magic our voices change and we sound exactly like the singer that is performing at the time. I can only testify about the music in my car when I am alone but I sound just like Willie Nelson, Josh Groban or every member of the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. At least this is what is going on in my brain when I am in the car alone. It becomes an adult version of a young boys character change.

One of the magical joys of the Big Woods was Tarzan swings. Huge vines that could support the weight of a young boy and carry him ripping through the trees. Our personalities on this swelteringly hot summer day had changed into Tarzan and a jungle safari. Each day that our imaginations took us into the deep jungle, we had a new Tarzan. Everyone had the chance to swing through the air on our jungle vine and bellow out that famous call that let the jungle creatures know that Tarzan was in the house. Each boy thought that he sounded just like the call that we heard on television. In reality each boy sounded like two screaming piglets fighting for more of what momma pig had for them.

In my humble opinion,Johnny Weissmuller and Maureen O’Hara were the only actors who were qualified to be the King and Queen of the jungle. These two are the only people that my brain sees when their fictional names are mentioned. In some of the early episodes of the Jungle King’s movies very little clothing was worn. I understand Tarzan’s predicament, if he needed a piece of clothing, he had to kill it first. I assumed that he had only one or two loincloths and had to be careful to keep them in tip top shape. If he got a hole in his loincloth he would be the laughing stock of the jungle. In these films the Jungle Queen was scantily dressed and there were questions as to whether you could label what she was wearing as clothes.

The aforementioned jungle attire was the inspiration for what would happen next. Our friend Lee was the King of The Jungle that day and with that distinction he had the big vine all to himself. As he wrapped his limbs around the vine, preparing to swing high over the jungle someone shouted, “ Hey Jungle King, you’ve got too many clothes on. Tarzan never wore anything like you do!” That was a valid statement, Lee had on his shorts,socks and tennis shoes. Lee let go of the vine and began to shed clothes to more closely fit into the role that he was playing, shedding until nothing was left but his bright white underwear.

The next part of the epic saga is rated PG13 or maybe R. Please don’t say that you were not warned in advance. If the next bit of this story offends you just close your eyes while you are reading. Just remember the fact that if you have no clothes on, you are naked. If you have no clothes on and are up to something, you are nekkid.

After shedding his clothing the King was ready to take charge of his jungle domain. Lee pulled on the vine to complete his pre-flight check. Soon arms wrapped around the vine and he was ready for launch. Suddenly a lone voice arose from our midst offering up a challenge that would not go unheeded. Those few short sentences caused a moment of unbelief among those of who were the imaginary archeological exploration team. The shock lasted only a brief moment and after the words sunk into our brains we looked at one another and without saying a word, we found ourselves in unanimous agreement.

The great utterance went something like this, “ Come on Lee, be a man and lose the tighty whities. If you’re going to be the Jungle King you got to wear the loincloth.” A loud chant soon erupted and our quiet jungle was full of “Lose the tighty whities, lose the tighty whities.” Lee was no sissified Jungle Man and immediately loosened his grip on the vine, jumped off the Big Log and confronted one of the chanters. In the flash of a jungle minute it was face to face, nose touching nose, fists clenched and the Jungle King began to protect his dignity and defend his manhood. Neither combatant raised a fist, let alone hit their foe. Like most fights between young boys it was all just for show and an excuse to cuss.

Our sweaty pugilists began to tire from name calling, blustering and using adjectives, adverbs and nouns that could never be spoken within earshot of a parent. Soon each boy backed off their adversary. The entire crowd of spectators was highly disappointed. With no blood, no broken bones, no fists landing on body parts and no new cuss words learned, this became a rather boring affair.

In the group of friends that day there was me, my brother, Lee (Jungle King), my best friend Dale, Ricky, Dale’s cousin Mitch, Bobby and a young man who had the perfect nickname to match his personality, Lee Pee. Before you pass judgement on us I’ll explain the boy’s daily habits and you’ll see why his name fit. Lee Pee apparently had a bladder control issue (maybe) and it was the rare day that we did not see a dark spot in the upper part of his pants. His name was not original but came from his family. After hearing his parents use this name,we adopted it to use. After all we had another Lee in our group of friends, so one of them had to get a name change. Another small issue was the fact that when this young man was thirsty he would stop at the nearest body of water and quench his thirst. These bodies of water included creeks and mud puddles. I suppose a man does what he has to do to survive.

Back to King of The Jungle Lee, he was determined to show how brave and uninhibited that he could be. This was one of those times and before we realized what was taking place the whitie tighties were off and all that we could see was the full moon preparing to sail through the jungle hanging on that vine. Each of us had a different reaction to what we were seeing, some laughing, a few trying not to laugh and others just in shock. This was the stuff that became a bit different with each re-telling until finally reached legend status.

There is just a bit more to this event, as long and boring it is, the best is yet to come. While the pretend fighting was taking place, one of our group of chuckleheads took it upon himself to invite more spectators to come and see Jungle Chief in his bright white underwear floating through the jungle. Apparently there was a strategic error and lack of accurate information about what our friend on the vine was or was not wearing. Then our guests arrived and they were all female! Four or five young ladies had decided to take in the show, not really knowing what to expect.

When the new guests arrived they were greeted with a nekkid butt sailing through the air. The initial shock wore off quickly and the prim and proper Southern Belles started laughing at the boy on the vine who was going through a critical case embarrassment. As if it were written in a script for our lives, most of the young ladies began to point and blush all the while talking among themselves. Our Jungle Man dropped from the vine and made a hasty escape into the thickets.

None of us saw Lee for at least a week, we assumed that he was just laying low while overcoming his severe embarrassment. As a kid, you can wait these things out without having to hide out too long. It was summer and it was inevitable that we would do something else stupid, it was just a matter of time.