Chicago winters can be harsh. The same thing can be said about a Phoenix summer. Yet there, spring, for a thick blooded Midwesterner like myself, becomes a view days of warm, sunny paradise. I enjoy the sleeveless, shorts clad eye candy of the local gyms. Unlike home at this time of year it isn't necessary to bury the well toned bodies in down jackets heading outdoors after a workout.
The thermometer says 68 but, to my sun starved body, it feels like 80. Under a layer of sunscreen, wearing only a swimsuit I enjoy relaxing on a chaise in the backyard. It is what many would refer to as a "speedo". Some claim to find them distasteful. I don't concern myself with their sensibilities. My upper thighs enjoy the warmth at least as much as my torso and calves. I often marvel and have occasionally written about the trend towards almost extreme modesty among the men, particularly the younger ones, of today. Men call other men douches, gay and worse for wearing skimpy yet still decent swimsuits. Women follow suit, saying they find them ugly, "I don't want to see that", while donning string bikinis or lining up at male strip clubs to view men gyrating in far less.
As for me I relish a few days in my small swimsuit soaking up the desert sun before returning to the cool spring of the Midwest.