On Sat, 27 Jul 2013 15:46:00 -0600, HMS Victor Victorian
<victorvictorian@hushunomail.com> wrote:
>Dear Friends,
>
>Would you agree with, or dismiss my thoughts here?
>
>Once more, I have made a completely unexpected observation.
>
>This morning, intending to quickly do some hedge pruning before
>getting off to the grocery, I set up my step ladder along the hedge
>that seperates my flat from a neighbor's. As I stepped up to begin
>trimming, I heard the sound of the young children next door. The
>family had recently purchased them a tram-pou-line (how American!) and
>their children, two small boys and two small girls, had taken to it
>with gusto.
>
>Now the hedge is fairly tall, but not particularly thick, and it is
>little effort to spy through. So I did. As expected, I spotted the
>four children, giggling as they sailed up through the air and then
>down again, their shirts and dungarees flapping.
>
>What I did not expect to see was a fifth child take flight with them
>... a brown boy of raven hair, a bit chubby about the tummy, perhaps
>seven or eight years old, probably of Indian extraction. What was
>most notable was his attire. The brave lad (for morning can put the
>chill on here) wore only a pair of blue rayon soccer shorts ... and
>they were so large that when he leaped up, they fluttered about him
>like a parachute.
>
>And when he came down and rebounded on the trampouline, the shorts
>dropped to his hips, and then again rebounding, they dropped to his
>thighs, and then thrice, they dropped right to his ankles.
>
>And he hadn't a stitch on beneath them.
>
>And then, giggling along with the other younger children, he pulled
>them up and repeated his acrobatics. Bounding, to the hips, bounding
>twice, to the thighs, and again down to the ankles, where he very
>nearly lost them. At one point, he left them round his ankles and
>stopped jumping long enough to bend over and expose the nether regions
>of his rear quarters to his delighted playmates. Cheeky! (no pun
>intended). He clearly was enjoying this scandalous behaviour.
>
>As were the neighbor's kids.
>
>And ...
>
>As was I, peering unseen through the hedge. I felt it a wonderfully
>intimate moment, seeing this mischeivious imp in all his boyhood
>beauty. My heart swelled and raced and I felt short of breath ... how
>I desired to be closer to him! But it was impossible, of course, and
>I finally forced myself, with quivering heart and trembling knees,
>down the step ladder.
>
>And I thought, "Why, God ... why do you torture me so? That you should
>allow me to see such delectable boyhood yet again, and feel desperate
>love (or at the very least lust) unrequitted yet again!"
>
>And I determined, my heart still pounding as I drove to the grocery,
>that it was a curse. A bloody curse!
>
>Nevertheless, should I again hear them on the trampouline, I wouldn't
>hesitate to climb up that step ladder.
>
>Most Sincerely,
>
>HMS Victor Victorian, NP-g18
>
>
>God Save the Queen.
>God Bless the Prince of Wales.
>God Preserve the Windsors.
>Rule Britannia!
Dearest Double V,
Life is what you make of it, isn't it? And when it comes to your
question, the answer is how do YOU see it?
You see it as a curse.
If I were in your place, I would see it as a blessing. A gift of rare
beauty from the God of Boys Himself. Things like that, and much less
risque, but no less beautiful, happen to me nearly every day. Rather
than curse the beauty because I am denied access to it, I give thanks.
And if I have the chance, I give the boy a smile to let him know he
touched my heart, and to touch his too, if that is possible.
This evening I was waiting for my pizzas to be ready at a local
pizzeria. I sat in the lobby and caught glimpses of the beautiful boys
that were eating in the dining room. There were three in my field of
vision, t was heaven. Suddenly, a fourth came from around the corner.
A little fellow, probably five, named Julian (I pay attention), who
was in his own little realm. He had green eyes and close cropped wavy
hair, a cute little imp. I was filled with adoration and as he caught
my eye, I gave him my boysmile. It was a warm and genuine smile. He
saw me and when he realized that the smile was for him, he cocked his
head slightly and returned the smile sweetly. We connected in that
moment. It was beauty. It was harmless. But it had meaning to us both.
I wanted to sweep him up in my arms and hug him, maybe tickle him so
that he would laugh with delight. But I could not and would not. Do I
curse the forces that gave me this love for boys? No. I am thankful
for the beauty I am shown. Like you, VV, I am shown beauty that others
cannot see. I welcome it and I show my appreciation to the boys with a
smile. Sometimes that smile has led to other things, real friendships.
Sometimes it can change a young life. One time it saved a life.
You handle your boylove in a coccoon that you have woven to keep
yourself, and others safe. That is admirable, it is a good strategy.
If you must curse the God of Boys, then do so. But you are not
diminished by being who you are. You are a fine man. You put boys
first. You love them as you are able, with distance, and in your
heart.
I see through your eyes and I see the beauty you described. A vivid
picture. Would that I was there with you to share the moment. But we
share it here and that will do.
Much love,
Doc
NP-f31
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