ONCE UPON A TIME…
Why write a short collection of “sorta” non-fictional stories about men and their “floppy parts?” I don’t know. Do I have to have a reason? Might it have been a longer collection if I were more gifted or if I had more interesting stories? Did I have to include stories about my own floppy parts? All of these are questions I asked myself before they ever formed in your mind. The major females in my life – my wife, daughter and a cousin who is trying to read this collection and to provide a woman’s point of view along with edits – are all appalled. I am sure my granddaughter would make it unanimous if she could read. I am safe there…for a while. She still loves me as long as I bring her favorite toy Linda Gail when I visit.
While discussing my writings with my brother, my eavesdropping-adult and married daughter commented, “Why are you writing about floppy men’s stuff?” Accompanying the question was a look that reminded me of the taste of a very bad oyster. My wife won’t discuss it at all unless you count eye rolls as discussion, and to quote Cousin Cyndi, “I would love for you to take your God-given talent of writing and delve into a deeper, more socially-redeeming subject. Shift your focus from your genitalia to your heart.” I am not sure I can do one without the other and I really am unsure about the talent thing, God-given or otherwise. I would guess one of my reasons for writing this is the relationship between my genitalia and my heart. Notice, there was no mention of my brain. So, it would seem, as far as the women in my life are concerned, all is normal.
While I have been in the company of women who were just as ribald as any guy, I don’t think most women understand the preoccupation men have with their floppy parts. Watch men lying around in the comfort of their own homes. Try to do this without their knowledge. Why are they stuffing their hands down into the front of their underwear? Are they keeping their hands warm or checking to make sure the something hasn’t just fallen off? It is just that simple a fact; it is a preoccupation with their, or rather our, floppy parts… and a preoccupation with the opposite sex’s floppy and not so floppy parts. Don’t they go gland in gland…ahhhhh… would be hand and hand. Gee, that sounded even worse! The male’s preoccupation seemed to be validated at a place I would never have expected floppy parts to rear their ugly heads – an assisted living facility. Bless my soul! I have heard stories about the wild happenings at some of these facilities for the aged but had dismissed them as urban myths. I find I was wrong… I wasn’t expecting any debauchery at a party for a family member celebrating her one-hundredth birthday. Dora is a very attractive, sweet and vital woman who is still quite mobile despite her walker and doesn’t look or act a day over…ummm…eighty. A gentleman from the facility who looked older than Dora asked, “What’s the celebration?” After being told we were celebrating Dora’s hundredth birthday, the great grandfatherly-looking gentleman exclaimed with a cackle, “If I had known she was that old I would have tried to nail her sooner!” Dora, you might want to brace yourself or keep your door locked.
So, this collection of short stories is mostly about men and their preoccupation with their floppy parts and covers several topics including athlete’s foundation garments, pain and injury, and relationships, mainly mine. It is not intended to be profound or socially relevant, although I do have hopes they will help the author come to grips with the wee bit of guilt that consumes him from time-to-time. I have had a strange and wonderful relationship with the opposite sex. I find them both strange and wonderful and this confliction has caused me much pain over the years. Well, there had to be some pleasure or I would not have kept proposing to them…hummm…there IS a thin line between pleasure and pain. Just the width of four little words – “Will you marry me?”
Sooooooo, these stories are intended to be humorous and to encompass former students, players, peers and the author himself and are written from a decidedly male point of view. They are BASED upon true stories and, despite the pain – physical or otherwise – no animals (human or alien) were permanently injured or killed in the production of this compilation. It is a book about pain and pleasure, love and hate, and sanity and insanity. It is also about the confusion the author has over which of these opposites are which, along with a question as to whether that “overwhelming feeling” might be love or lust.
You may assume there was some poetic license taken and the truth might have gotten twisted enough to be presented the way the author would have liked a story to have ended rather than the way it did. That way, if you actually know me, you really might not know who I was telling a story about…unless you do know, because some of the stories are completely true. What it is not is a graphic “kiss and tell” book. That would be oh so boring. I hope you enjoy the stories and find the humor that was intended. You know there is only one way for you to find it! So, begin… “Once upon a time, fifty some years ago….”
If you enjoyed this excerpt you may download or purchase FLOPPY PARTS at the following link: http://www.amazon.com/Don-Miller/e/B018IT38GM