Hugs And Kisses

Hugs And Kisses by Neil McCall

Recently my normally seamy thought life has been inundated by a stream
of romanticism pertaining to the gentler arts of hugging and
kissing.

The first episode occurred on a bus last week when a young studentish
couple who'd been cuddling on the seat opposite me suddenly started to
lock lips. Aah, sweet, I thought:

"Oy, will you stop that please," interrupted an aggrieved voice, "I've
got my daughter here." An Afro-Caribbean woman and child had just got
on with a group which looked to be a bit churchy, and clearly frowned
upon public osculation. This reminded me of an incident a couple of
months ago at my own church when the poor curate, who'd been trying to
put together a trendy presentation using video clips, got it in the
neck from one of the older Pakistani Christians for (accidentally)
showing a scene from Lord Of The Rings which had Aragorn and Arwen
sharing an on-screen kiss. One of the more worldly-wise Pakistanis
tried to appease him by pointing out that Aragorn and Arwen were
married and entitled to kiss - I'd have liked to have given it a good
theological stirring by pointing out that Arwen was an elf-maiden so
technically not even human, but all I did was sigh.

Which is interesting, because my last church was very huggy-kissy
indeed, and even in my current Anglican setting there's people who'll
give you a crushing embrace whilst they're sharing the peace, or even
if they meet you in the street. I enjoyed the previous church's
Christmas party, partly because it was a great curry-fest and also
because I got to kiss and hug a lot of folks I'd not seen for months;
one of the women giving me the most serious snogging I've had in
ages.

The free newspaper, source of many wacky stories from around the world,
today featured an article on a hugging club set up in New York. You pay
your twenty dollars, put on some comfy pyjamas and indulge in
consensual hugging, kissing and massage for a couple of hours - and,
no, you don't get naked or have sex, you just wallow in the mutual
intimacy that's otherwise missing from your busy, self-centred urban
life. Now who could seriously object to this? One of our regular
ABCTales contributors recently confessed that she found kissing more
intimate than sex, and maybe that's a key - there's never been so much
sex around but has the degree and quality of intimacy improved
accordingly? I suggest not.

My wife and I were both brought up in respectable, but fairly repressed
families, so of course we've always tried not to make our parents'
mistakes, thus inevitably introducing several new ones. But we've
always been huggy-kissy around the kids; I reckon it's so important for
children to learn intimacy and affection, especially from the
opposite-sex parent, so that they're less inclined to grab just any
affection on offer. I miss the times when all five of us would emulate
a rugby team and have a family hug! So if you see me somewhere across a
crowded room, say in Derby or London, give me a hug and a kiss! It
means nothing, but it means everything.