Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Rite of Passage

It was bound to happen, but I thought it would be a few years down the line...

That, my friends, is my son's introduction to Playboy magazine. The magazine he will one day, invariably, read for the articles.

How did this chance meeting come to be, you ask?

Last week during winter vacation, Ethan and I spent a day trolling through one of my favorite little coastal towns; between bouts of collecting shells on one beach & pretending to be salty old pirates on another (being sure to keep at least 300 ft from the baby sea lion pups basking in the sun--its the law), we made a stop at my favorite vintage junky-artsy shop. There we climbed piles of broken tiles and glass (Mother of the Year award, right here, baby!!!) looking for the perfect pieces to use for stepping stones for our garden. We shuffled through a yard full of old door knockers, vintage winery signs, and the odd brass buddha. Think Anthropologie tchotchkes, but not mass produced. And cheaper.

At one point, nature called, and so we asked the nice little hoarder guy who owns the shop if there was a bathroom inside. He led us down a hallway of more flea-markety artsy junky stuff to a little bathroom. And there we met....the Playboy.

Vintage 1968 copy, still in its plastic wrapper. Just hanging out all Bunny-rific, on the counter of the bathroom. And like the proverbial moth to the flame, Ethan almost immediately assumed the posture above and maintained it the entire time we were in the bathroom. No questions, no "what is this?" No questions about the woman wearing the bunny ears bathing suit. Just quiet, reverential contemplation.

And its not like he hasn't seen women in bathing suits before. We go to stores where there are bathing suit sections and there are marketing ads of women in bikinis far skimpier than the tastefully provocative bunny ears one piece gracing the cover of this particular magazine. He spent a week on the beach last week in full view of any number of body types in any number of bathing suit styles. But for some reason, this image, with the letters PLAYBOY over it, captivated Ethan into a prolonged silence and appreciation I've not seen him maintain since he first discovered The Beatles.

Oh my.


cicadalady said...

Ha! Such a funny photo.

Becca said...

Hahaha! "Quiet, reverential contemplation." Perfection.

Sarah said...

Dirty magazine delivery day was a big day for my preteen brothers who sneaked my dad's black-wrapped mags out of the mailbox. Classy, huh?