Effusive

adjective

1. expressing feelings of gratitude, pleasure, or approval in an unrestrained or heartfelt manner.
   Similar: gushing, gushy, unrestrained
2. GEOLOGY
   (of igneous rock) poured out when molten and later solidified

If there was one word to sum up the life I’ve led on the 46, a week away from 47 years I have been on this earth, effusive would be that word. From the earliest memories I have as a child to my most recent interactions with friends, an unrestrained gushing of heartfelt gratitude, poor spelling and grammatical errors, pleasure and approval sum up why I’ve chosen to name title my second blogging “My Nipples Love Cashmere.” Like getting used to wearing all new textiles, there are periods where you experience some irritation and even separation even from something so amazing as cashmere. In the end, you always come back to what you love. Over the last few years, I have been learning to come back to me; sometimes my return is war-torn and beaten, but always, changed for the better. After all, taking words from George Bernard Shaw – “Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” 

Unrestrained and gushy… I can think of several periods in my life where those words would describe me to a T. I tackled the world with my heart on my sleave. People knew where they stood with me and the deep emotional connection I had to them. Some could say that I have an almost empathetic existence. People’s energy, the room’s presence… they really hit me hard. Several years ago I was having lunch with a girlfriend of mine… (really a 50-something year old gay man whose purse fell out of his mouth on occasion) He told me he was warned I had a curt mouth. While most would consider this offensive, I really took pride in that. That is something that is passed down from generation to generation in our family. A quick wit and a smart ass. Growing up my biological father would always say “don’t let your battleship mouth overload your rowboat ass.” The Tyson today would probably respond with “what did you call me?” or “did you just call me fat?” The southern in me would respond with “that’s just real nice.” Of course, I have weekly therapy sessions to “dethatch” the years of his battleship mouth. Don’t worry, that’s a later entry on a cold winter’s day when I can be home alone and playing some Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

I always thought that I would write a book titled “My Nipples Love Cashmere”. It was going to be about the life of a gay man as he traverses the ups and downs living in a community where he was one of the only one like him. There was going to be chapters with struggles, there were going to be chapters with wins. I’m sure the lessons in the book would have been applicable on several levels. Every time I sat down to map it out it, I never got past the title. Maybe one day… This blogging thing is going to be a neat way to get what is in my head out… That could be scary and it could be very funny. If I really got going, it could be quite damning for several people. I am not a vindictive person and I don’t gain anything from exposing anyone else’s weaknesses or shortcomings, but damn, there is a lot of good stuff there. Its one of those do unto others moments. I am really keen on the idea of people reading it from all over and giving me their two cents…. I established in the last one that the third cent was pushing it. So consider this an invitation for a couple of pennies.