Reminiscing about Ike from Holland

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Reading another thread this morning I was reminded of a shooting buddy somewhat unique among my cadre of outdoor-oriented pals. Ike was born and lives in the Netherlands, a student of military history, a model train enthusiast, loved firearms but did not own any, and - you guessed it - was named after General Eisenhower by appreciative Dutch parents.

Ike was also the most accomplished Kalanchoe breeder of his professional era. Holland may be known as the tulip capital but that's actually a small fraction of their flowering plant industry. Ike was a modest but brilliant plant breeder.

Ike visited the U.S. frequently and made regular trips to our ranch, then in Hood County, Texas. He thought Texas a bit too green and covered with foliage to match the image of Texas most Dutch movie fans are accustomed to after watching John Wayne in Monument Valley. Ike nevertheless always looked forward to going shooting at our place particularly with Model 1911s and a Garand. We never spared the ammo as it was obviously such a delight for him. Ike was more than a few years older than me but it was like taking a 12 year old boy shooting - his face got tired of grinning.

There was noting like the experience that Ike could enjoy back home. He used to remark that our ranch, a modest place by Texas standards, was more land land than Queen Beatrix and the Dutch royal family had control over. Ike and his family camped regularly in the equivalent of national parks in France and claimed it was as close as he could get to communing with nature. Roaming around our ranch was the most desolate experience Ike claimed he ever had.

Ike and I went on a long walk once at our place after a hearty breakfast and plenty of coffee. A couple hours after sallying forth we arrived back at the ranch house and Ike went immediately into the nearest restroom. Appearing back on the porch promptly I surmise he'd only done "number one" shall we say. It seemed an urgent action so I informed he did not have to make it back to the house to "relieve" himself - the two of us were quite alone at the ranch and it was a fairly private setting.

Ike informed he could not "do that" out of doors. I was perplexed and a bit confused. Ike explained he had "never" done that as there simply wasn't a place, where he was from, where a gentleman could reasonably do such a thing. Thus he was not just unpracticed but completely unaware of how one accomplished such relief. And it had nothing to do with "ballpark syndrome" as you could get quite "alone" in the woods at the ranch.

I adore Ike and he was always fun and interesting but this is the most prominent instance of our common experience that sticks with me. It is difficult to imagine the inability to pee in the woods despite being an outdoor enthusiast and all-around normal guy in all other respects. Holland has the highest population density in Europe. Funny the stuff you remember.
 
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Having foreign friends is enriching.

One thing about your narrative confused me. The modern Dutchman is by far the most practiced among Western men at urinating in public. Every urban area I've been to there, has exposed outdoor urinals of myriad designs.


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Thanks for the story, I too have found from friends visiting us from Europe that what we have in the way of living space just blows them away. I was stationed in Germany for eighteen months and was equally blown away by their relaxed standards when it came to nudity and public urination. I was informed that throughout Europe it is common for men to urinate in public as long as your back is to the street and you use the "Continental Cup". While using the cup you basically make a ring of your thumb and forefinger and place it over your unit which does provide more coverage instead of letting it all hang out. I was stationed in Russelsheim, A.M. which is the town where G.M. had their Opel plant. It was a very working class town, which may have something to do with all of the public urination.
 
Having foreign friends is enriching.

One thing about your narrative confused me. The modern Dutchman is by far the most practiced among Western men at urinating in public. Every urban area I've been to there, has exposed outdoor urinals of myriad designs.


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This is rather the point. Public urinals in Holland are, for the most part, semi-private, in that only other men using the facility are nearby. Ike did not suffer from ballpark syndrome. Ike was unable to let go in the wilderness in complete privacy - a privacy he could not experience at home doing anything never mind attending to such a private necessity. This is what makes this occurrence so memorable for me.

I did not intend for this to be about relieving one's self so much as a commentary on privacy and the different interpretations of it based on one's experience. Looks like I didn't do a very good job of that! My apologies.
 
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