My first memories of seeing the penises of men must have had a powerful lifelong affect on me. Our earliest experiences may have powerful formative influence upon who and what we become later in life. Certain kinds of brainwaves predominate during the first five or six years of life, which means an infant is basically dreaming for the first few years even if acutely aware, then the toddler experiences vividly and yet still feels very much entwined with experiences. After this, the small child, early in what we call the schooling period, becomes intensely receptive to information.
My ongoing fascination with the human penis doubtless reflects early experiences, or my reactions to those experiences may reflect something innate, possibly even genetic in my nature. Clearly both nature and nurture, are significant in these matters.
This vivid memory may have occurred as early as age three or four, no later than five, when I lived with my family in northern Thailand: I’m walking along the unpaved side of a road not far from our house, holding the hand of my nanny, a gentle Thai woman. I believe that my sister is with us, holding our nursemaid’s other hand. It’s quite late in the afternoon, though not yet dark, as we walk along the side of the road that runs between a school on one side and a rice field on the other. Some large trees grow along the roadside. Our nanny speaks in a voice of concern, even alarm, and mentions that there is a “Crazy Spirit” here. She says we must be careful and hurry home. I look up into the nearest tree along the road, and see that in the shade of the foliage, there among the branches is an adult man. Though I cannot see his face very well, what catches my attention is his exposed penis, not fully erect, though it appears long, thick and heavy as it swings from between his legs. As if this was not startling enough, the man has glued small pieces of brightly-colored and metallic foil paper to his penis…
Though we hurried home safely, I do remember seeing that the man had darkened his face, perhaps with charcoal, in order to blend into the shadows, and his eyes seemed bright and wild. More than once, I heard him called a “Crazy Spirit,” which in Thai also suggests an evil spirit. However, I did not feel at all threatened or assaulted by this exhibitionist. Of course it was technically indecent exposure, and though I may have found it a bit scary because of how my nursemaid reacted, I know that this glimpse of a grownup penis intrigued me, more than it frightened me. I’d never imagined such a thing and felt quite delighted.
Within the next year or two I also caught brief glimpses of the penises of several adult men, in this case fellow Americans who just happened to be changing clothes without extreme modesty. These memories also remain vivid, and again I was impressed by what seemed the huge size and dangling weight of these organs, as well as the fascinating growth of dark hair around them. Something about the shape, the raw pink of the bulbous head and the pale, thick shaft, struck me as the most beautiful and important thing in the world.
Of course, at that age, I had no idea of what any of this really meant, or of what a same-sex attraction involved, yet I know what I felt, and what I still feel. Years later, in my mid-teens as my own genitals matured, I could scarcely believe how intense the sensations of my penis could be. My adult equipment has pleased and fascinated me, and provided me with enjoyment and joy ever since. Wonders never cease.
Whoever or whatever that exhibitionistic “Crazy Spirit” was, I’ve never forgotten what I saw.