One of the occupational hazards of sportswriting is the inherent locker-room nudity issue. It might be the aspect of my job that makes me the most uncomfortable.

In my mind, it underlines my outsider / interloper status there -- the feeling of being somewhere I'm not always truly welcome.

While I'm not homophobic at all, players know when media members are taking a peek they shouldn't be and will be quick to judge you accordingly and you don't want that label. In the Packers' old locker room, the carpeting was a pattern of Gs -- the refurbished digs just have one huge G in the middle -- and I can't tell you how many times I stood, head down, counting Gs and averting my eyes while players I didn't need to talk to dressed, as I waited for players I did want to interview to enter the room.

The only place I think I'd be more uncomfortable would be in a women's locker room, which while titillating in theory has to be even more uncomfortable in practice. If the WNBA resurrects the Milwaukee Does someday, I won't volunteer for the gig.

My rule is a simple one: I don't talk to anyone unless they're at least wearing underwear. Even after a Monday night game with brutal deadlines. I instituted that rule after my buddy Antonio Freeman decided to use me as a de facto cornerback to demonstrate how to get off of press coverage -- an interesting and worthwhile lesson, except for one tiny detail: He was clad only in his jockstrap at the time.

Also, different players take different approaches. There's the proud-as-a-peacock tack, which given the vanity that a fair share of players have, is somewhat common. Essentially, they're saying, "I'm naked, and if you're not looking, you're missing out." There are a few of those in the Packers locker room now.

But with the proliferation of female media members in the locker room -- something legendary defensive end Reggie White, for instance, was vehemently (and wrongly) against -- most players have enough awareness to show some modesty and wrap themselves in a towel. Personally, I've always thought former Packers running back Dorsey Levens had it right: He headed for the shower in his shorts; when he emerged, he had a towel around his waist and would then pull his boxers on without removing the towel, a trick I've yet to show the dexterity to master myself at the local YMCA.

Which is what got me thinking about this topic. I don't know how it is at your gym, but I was in the locker room post-workout earlier this week, and because of a social commitment afterward, I was required to shower there. (Something I prefer not to do, for germophobic cleanliness reasons as well as self-consciousness.)

As I gathered my showering products (that's another problem for me; I'm too high-maintenance with my multiple "products"), I was aghast at what I saw next: An older gentleman, with a very prodigious belly (David Sedaris has a hilarious riff on this sort of overhang, but I can't use it here) stopping at a table to read the local newspaper strewn there.

The problem? The table top was at the same height as his ... um, well, I think you know what I'm referring to. So as curious as I was about what was in the Home Depot sale flyer, there was no way I was getting anywhere near that table. I can only hope that the paper was thrown away -- and the table properly OxyCleaned or 409'ed -- before anyone else came near it. But I doubt it.

Hey, I know this isn't usual sports talk. Heck, it's certainly not a topic you'd discuss in the locker room. (I personally don't mind fully-clothed locker room banter, so long as it's not coming from the neighboring urinal.) But am I wrong on this? If you're a locker-room nudist, feel free to convince me otherwise.

In the meantime, I can tell you there were approximately 44 Gs in every 2-foot by 3-foot area in front of each locker.