Yesterday, one of my two best friends texted me that the third in our trio may come to visit him in NYC for the Iron Man 2 opening.
Yes, both my best friends are comic book geeks. Then again, I’m an all-around geek, so they have me beat on all other fronts.
I called to see if this threatened visit was more likely to happen than some of the past visits that were threatened but never made. And I, of course, ended up talking to my best friend’s lovely wife.
She was a bit miffed that she’s not recognized as one of my six regular readers and also worried that I keep referring to Jewel as hefty, which will lead to body image issues later. I reminded my friend’s wife, as the psychiatrist that she is, that even if I didn’t do this, Jewel would blame me later–if not for body image issues, then for something (or everything) else. Besides, I don’t call her hefty, I call her husky.
The reality is that 3B was as husky as Jewel is. We just make big kids. What’s slightly different, and amusing to me, is how sensitive everyone is when you say that your girl is big or pudgy or fat or husky–a euphemism coined to avoid all those other disparaging terms, which has itself become a term of disparagement. But if you mention that your boy is big or pudgy or fat or husky, nobody minds. In fact, people celebrate it.
And, let’s face it, this goes on throughout life. Big boys are celebrated, even though it’s just as unhealthy and unattractive to be a big boy as it is to be a twiggy girl. Obesity and anorexia are two sides of the same coin, and it’s time to stop using asinine euphemisms for men who are nothing more than fat–he’s not stocky, he’s not mostly muscle, he’s fat. It’s not attractive, and it’s deadly. We need to stop being so sensitive about referring to everyone’s weight–it’s not doing any of us any favors. Women are dying from it at astonishing rates, but so are men.
And, boys, if fear of death isn’t enough to motivate you…I know, I know, you’ll never die–you’re still 18, can drink a bottle of Jack in 15 minutes, and can still eat a bag of chips before halftime…then you should be shamed into shaping up by the boom in male breast reduction surgery.
So, while I know that the good doctor’s concern is well-intentioned, I’m also hoping that by talking more openly about all body image issues–for boys and girls–that we’ll help Jewel and her brother avoid problems.
And yes, I’m hoping they have some sense of humor about it. If not, don’t worry, I’ll modify those posts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl and boy.
As for not being recognized as one of my six loyal readers, good doctor, I think you’re on the map now. The reality is that plenty of people read this blog, including my mother in law, most of my siblings, my aunts, some cousins, coworkers and some internet-only friends. Writing that I only have six readers is a way of poking fun at this blog and at myself. It’s a reminder that this blog is not one that’s going to allow me to quit my day job, like some.
That’s not the point of this blog.
The point was from the beginning to share with my family our life as a family back here, since they’re all still way out there on the left coast. When I started, I was primarily interested in sharing it with Mom, who was the information hub for the family. However, although she was a regular reader–and would print posts for my sister who didn’t have internet access at the time–Mom died a few months after I got started. Turns out that as a family we figured out how to reconnect our information network, and we all rewired a little bit, so now my siblings read directly–as I read the blogs they write.
Through Facebook even more family have been connected to the blog, but the point remains the same–give a window into our lives. Although I drift into politics, this isn’t a political blog. Although I voice opinions that I’m sure others don’t appreciate, this isn’t an op-ed blog. What this is, despite the language I use, is a family blog. The point is for all of us–family or friends–to stay in touch, to communicate, to see each other as much as the innernets makes that possible.
My firm belief is that if any two people, no matter how dissimilar they may seem, talk for five minutes, they’ll find something that they have in common. And through that one item, they’ll find that they have an affinity for each other. Given enough time and enough communication, these two people will inevitably find other items and a deeper appreciation for each other.
And that’s the point of this blog–to stay connected so that we can stay together and remember that we’re all in this thing called life together.
(Judging by your reaction to it, good doctor, it seems to have achieved that goal…if only you could get my best friend, your husband, to break away from the comic book sales on eBay long enough to check it out, perhaps it would work with him too.)
I’m working to make cancer history. Will you help me?