I was one of thousands taking in the unshaven sights at this Saturday’s Solstice Parade. An excellent presentation, all things considered: Highlights included sadomasochistic barbecuers and the naked biker who held a horizontal grand écart en l'air throughout the parade, ensuring that onlookers never lacked for taint. However, I have one beef with some of these free spirits. When the parade stops and the crowd dissipates, don’t you think it’s time to call it a wrap and cover up? Rather than, say, heading on over to the car show with your junk free to brush against the clothed masses? Long after the show ended, I nearly bumped into the semi-erect penis of a portly old fellow chatting on his cellphone outside Jive Time. I don't need that.