Back in the seventies, we thought we were wild and crazy most of the time. Often teens, mostly boys, were compelled by their peers to drop their pants and squish their bare cheeks against the car or school bus window. The purpose was to shock the unsuspecting driver traveling behind or along side. Shoot the moon was the chant.
College nakedness was bolder. Nearly full bodied, streaking merely required socks, shoes, and maybe a towel used for anonymity. On April 1st, 1974 we Streaked for Impeachment. In the mob mentality of that night, I joined hundreds of fellow Frostburgers in the most meaningful of political streakings.
Dorm by dorm, floor by floor we headed out the back door and ran as fast as we could. A Clockwork Orange flickered on the brick wall of Frederick Hall and one brave soul with a bullhorn called the next brave souls into the cold.
It was fun until the cops came and threw some tear gas. We dispersed. Re-robed and slippered up and knew deep in our hearts we had made a difference. The world was safer for what we had done. We just didn’t stage a sit in. We ran buck naked into to that cold, moon lit, mountain night for a cause.
Hey Hey, Ho Ho, Dick Nix on’s got to go, Hey, Hey…..
He resigned didn’t he?
The Moon brought out our craziness and we enjoyed every minute.