Hug Me

Today is National Hug Day or National Hugging Day...or something like that. Truth be told, I wasn't listening that closely when the radio person mentioned it. However, whatever it was, I can tell you that it struck fear into me...right until I remembered that no one actually looks at the various "days" that they stick on those calendar sites. Kind of like the way that Catholics don't really pay attention to what saints day it is (today is St. Barnabas for any lapse readers).

Thank goodness that National Hug Day is unlikely to catch on, because I don't like to be hugged. Really, according to the professionals, I am "adverse to human contact." Some women that I've dated might disagree with this, but I think that works for me. I have a simple rule...I don't touch you, and you don't touch me.

That does, though, lead to many, many awkward moments. When I lived in Los Angeles, everyone would be hugging hello all around me...and I would stand in the middle of the action as though protected by a force field. I've actually been standing amongst a group where someone was hugging everyone goodbye, took a step towards me, was repelled by the force field and moved on to the next person. It's almost like a superpower.

Of course, some people insist on hugging me whether I like it or not. My former brother-in-law's family has hugged me my entire life (they're Italian). I female comic I know greets everyone with a hug and a kiss. Then there's my Armenian friend Grace who was actually offended by my touch aversion. In part, I believe that was ego...she's stunningly beautiful and I'm pretty sure a guy not wanting to touch her was probably more unlikely to her than if an actual alien showed up at her doorstep. She insisted not only that I hug her, but that I do so in proper Mediterranean fashion with a kiss on each cheek. Being socially awkward, for the most part, I don't do that right. The one time I did, Grace literally stopped a party to announce that I had finally figured out how to greet someone properly.

Oddly, I'm the only one in my household like this. Amy has no qualms about hugging people. Marty's female classmates come up and hug him "hello" in greeting. Casey hugs everyone. He and his kindergarten pals give each other bro hugs when they see each other for God's sake.

Of course, as a father, I'm can't very well not hug my sons. But, man, do they push their luck. My sons are the polar opposite of me. They seemingly can't stand it if they're not touching someone. If that someone happens to be me, that's fine with them. They want to hug, sit next to me, sit on my lap, ride on my back and worst of all, put their feet on me when we're sitting on the couch. Drives me crazy, but I take it...mostly so that they don't end up like me.

But, if Victorian sensibilities were to come back into vogue, I would be perfectly ok with that.