Blog 112 – 9.9.15

There is a cute line in the Christmas classic movie, Christmas Story, where Ralphie, the little boy who wants a BB Gun for Christmas, is talking about his dad. “Some boys fathers are Methodists or Presbyterians. My dad was an Oldsmobile man.” Though perhaps some religious people may not find that funny. I always laugh because so many things people get so serious and excited about are to me just matters of taste.

I am a Breast man. It is my favorite part if you are talking about the female anatomy and my favorite piece if you are talking about chicken. Some guys (and girls too) are leg men, or let me just say if you are talking beef some prefer a rump roast. To quote again the timeless lines from a fifties teen anthem sung by the Big Booper:

Chantilly lace and a pretty face,
And a pony tail a hanging down,
A wiggle in a walk and a giggle in a talk
Ah, it makes the world go round.

There ain’t nothing in the world
Like s big eyed girl
To make me act so funny,
Make me spend my money.
Make me feel real loose
Like a long necked goose
Oh, Baby, that’s what I like.

I like big eyes, the kind you can get lost and found in. And, yes, I know Freud says men who like big breasts are infantile but, hey I already told you I like being called Baby. And I think all of us has a child in us that longs to be cuddled and petted from time to time. Many of you have trouble quieting you mind so you can sleep at night. I do not. I have only to think of laying my head on two big fluffy pillows and I sleep like a baby.

My tastes have broaden over the years, if you’re talking chicken now I am a breast man, a leg man, a thigh man, a wing man; I like and enjoy the whole bird. Women, too, I love and appreciate everything about them head to toe, big eyes to big other things. The big beast thing I know on some level is a metaphor for a big loving heart. My mama was not blessed by the Titty Fairy but always wished she had been and hearing your mama say such things in your hearing and often probably warps a little boys sensibilities a bit. But then it isn’t just me we live in a breast obsessed culture.

It isn’t just Texans who are obsessed with things being bigger. I think wanting all things bigger is a metaphor for our hunger for Big Love; I think my mama and many of us have a broken or stunted self esteem. And our desire for some physical attributes in or on ourself or in or on our extended self, our lover or would be lover, is a metaphor for where we are lacking love. These things I believe are all in our imagination. What we think is our reality.

If you think you are unloved, unattractive, flat chested or a bit short in another department that is a reality you create for yourself. Your thoughts, your words, and your deeds all attest to what you believe about yourself. So often we get it so wrong. But believe this, you are loved, you are lovable, you are altogether lovely, for your are as Jesus was, God’s beloved child. Our mission is the same as his was. A seeming Impossible Mission.

Your, mission, Jim, Ethan (or whomever) should you decide to accept it is to remind your brothers and sisters along the path that they are loved no matter what they think, say, or do and that no matter what it may look like everything is fine so do your best to have a good time.

What is your favorite part or favorite piece?

Your friend and fellow traveler,
David White