Why the naked gardener? Is it like Jamie Oliver, "the naked chef"?

Well, yes, and no. It's true that I garden as I live: simply and slothfully. But whereas Jamie Oliver doesn't cook naked, thank goodness, I had more in mind actually gardening naked, or at least in some, preferably advanced state of undress, since usually doing it in the all-in-all is out of the question.

Why's that?

Bugs, mostly. It may also be against the law in some states. And the Fenway is a public park, after all.

So do you actually garden naked?

No, not usually. Half-naked most of the time, though.

Which half?

Generally the top half.

You must be an exhibitionist of some sort.

Maybe. I don't really think of it that way. There's often no one around to see. If I could be sure not to be seen I would probably go starkers all the time. I don't know what that makes me.

A nudist perhaps?

I prefer "naturist."

Does this run in your family?

You know, my ancestors were goatherds. But aside from that, nudity was never particularly encouraged in my family. It wasn't discouraged, either. I mean, being naked is sometimes necessary, innit? Sometimes desirable, even. There are things that are easier when you're naked.

Such as?

Such as writing.

Oh, I thought you'd say something like "bathing."

Oh no, I never bathe in the nude. Are you kidding?

You never bathe in the nude?

No. Because the minute you get undressed and hop in the shower, the doorbell rings. And it's always a delivery man with a package that has to be signed for. Never fails. And then, what if you're in the shower and the house catches fire? You're gonna run outside in your birthday suit? No.

So what do you wear in the shower?

My Budgy Smugglers, of course.

What else then?

Latex gloves. Surgeon's cap. Goggles. Pampooties. Stainless steel cock ring... 

I mean, what else is easier when you're naked?

Oh.  Well, having your morning coffee, obviously. Taking pictures of yourself. Watching CBS Evening News with Katie Couric. Badminton. The list goes on and on.

Are you one of those people who likes to play tennis and ride horses and the like naked?

Not really. Horses, definitely not. Ostriches, maybe. But for some things you definitely need to protect yourself. For sports and such athletic supporters are sort of important for guys like me.

Um, what's that supposed to mean?

Not to brag... I mean, I can't take any credit for it, can I?  But it is what it is.

And that is?

Legendary.

Hmm.  So don't the dangly bits get in the way of trimming back wild rose bushes and clipping hedges and suchlike?

I have a special toolbelt for that kind of thing.

Aren't you afraid of wild animals?

They're as afraid of us as we are of them.

I thought your derrière would be hairier.

A lot of people say that.

And how do you feel about it?

It's hairy enough for me.  I made peace with it long ago.  Your bum's your best friend.

OK, enough about the nudity, what about the gardening? What's so great about gardening?

I got into it a few years ago when I inherited my dad's garden.  It was a "secret garden," tucked away behind a hedge and visible only from a big bay window where we used to sit together and have coffee in the morning.  There was a little fountain in the middle.  It was magical.

He died early in the spring, and it was the perfect time to start working the soil.  It was therapeutic.  It gave me a positive way to process what had happened.  And it was a way for me to share some of the joy I'd had in sharing my dad's time on earth.

That was in '04.  And I got so much pure, unadulterated pleasure from being in the garden that when I returned to Boston I could not imagine not having that in my life.  So I got a derelict plot in the Fenway, and have been working on it ever since.  I've learned a lot.

That's all well and good, but is learning from things really a good reason to do them?

Sometimes.  Some things you just do, and it's enough.  But gardening has a lot of things to teach.  Its lessons, like most anything worth learning, are simple but profound, and you learn them by doing. 

There's always something to do and something to see.  Like Sam Llewelyn said, in gardens "the main business is sex and death."  It's all around you all the time.  And it's endlessly fascinating. 

OK. Speed round.  Say the first thing that comes to your mind: Rose.

Thorn.

Rain.

Shine.

Bee.

Pollen.

Pansy.

What did you just call me?

Hoe.

I beg your pardon?

Oh, dear.

I think we're finished here.

Um, OK.  Well, er, happy gardening.