In Praise of Altogetherness

Probably not since the days of the ancient Greeks have so many exposed so much to so many. In one short week the naked dash has achieved Olympian, if not exactly Olympic proportions (see MODERN LIVING). Already those first lonely streakers across dark and isolated campuses seem the fusty pioneers of a misty age. The streaking contagion has spread to every corner of the U.S., spilled across to Europe, gingerly moved out ward in both directions on the age ladder, infected a still minority but growing number of women. What began as a tentative titter at the edge of the national awareness has become one great, good-natured American guffaw.

It could hardly have come at a better time. The U.S., too long assailed by inflation, shortages and Watergate, sorely needed a diversion. Combatting the sour mood was scarcely behind the students' exuberant rush to take it off; students have never really needed much of a reason to cavort beyond the incandescent mix of youth, health and spring.

But the heaviness in the air surely helps explain the remarkable good humor and even enjoyment of the streaking phenomenon manifested by school authorities, lawmen and the public.With few exceptions, hardly a bluenose is out of joint. Indeed, the only groups that streaking really threatens are nudists and Peeping Toms--it deprives both of their raison d'etre. More ponderous analyses are already droning forth: the sexual revolution is responsible; folks are simply grateful that students are no longer rioting or building bombs. But the best explanation may be as simple as the relief afforded by a good belly laugh. What do you say to a naked everybody? Thanks, we needed that.

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