There is a book, likely printed in the 1970s, about massage. It came into my home when I was newly married and very naive, and in it was a photograph that has stuck with me as I've outgrown not only that marriage but also those old ideas of what it meant to be good. The photo was of a woman enjoying a massage on a wooden dock that jutted out into a small lake in the mid-afternoon sunshine. She was naked and surrounded by...