Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Support Can be Beautiful

Don’t find the man of your dreams.  Find one that will support your dreams.
 -Excerpt from a conversation with my daughter August 2014

I read Huffington Post.  Yes, it doesn’t carry the literacy of The New Yorker nor the analysis of The New York Times but it gets the news job done.  It's usually a quick read in the morning before my requisite two cups of coffee.

And it has juicy news.  You know.  The type that you either shake your head at, sends chills down your spine or makes you thank goodness you don’t live in Thailand.

Guilty as charged.

But sometimes it has stories that make you just think.

I was struck by an an article that featured Jeff Bridges the other day. It was not a celebrity tell all (he didn’t impregnate an alien)  but he spoke about his wife and how his career would be nothing if it weren't for her.  It was charming, complimentary and downright cool. He has clearly stood on the shoulder of a giant.

And he is certainly “THE Dude.”

Ah, but Huffington did not disappoint.  The next article I read was on Kendall Jenner.  Topless. Yet again. In Thailand!

Get that girl a parent and a bra and perhaps some Ceftriaxone.

So what two neurons fired to find a connection here?

Bras. Brassieres, Over the shoulder boulder holders, Goody Hoodies, Nork Sacks, Tit pants, Upper Decker Flopper stoppers,  Hooter Holsters,  Cup Cake Wrappers and  Brass Ears (I have no clue what this one means) . Somewhere deep in my psyche,  a 11 year old primordial male neuron fires, sends signals to the motor neurons in my metacarpals, rolls that trackball and can find anything on Sicktionary.

Ah, yes.  The connection.  Yes there is one.

Bras, the really good ones without euphemisms, are very similar to life partners:

Very few of us look good without one. But there are always exceptions.

We need them for more than 18 hours a day.

They lift you, yet separate when you need breathing room.

The good ones cross your heart gently, passionately,  not stomp all over it.

We don't need one when we are younger yet the first ones can be trainers too.

And strong, emotionally athletic ones hold you really close when you are really going over rough terrain.

Victoria, your secret is out.

Because support can be beautiful.  At age 52 I certainly know what Playtex meant physically.  

Now I finally know emotionally too.

And Kendall, Rumor, Rihanna, etc.: Over exposure makes you just another boob.

Equal time:  I guess athletic supporters fill that same role for gentlemen. But where are those advertisements?