The Large Man Chronicles

I Chronicle tonight from the touristy, but very nice, Saint John Ale House in Saint John, New Brunswick. The Large Man is abroad. By “abroad”, I don’t mean that I’ve painted up my lips, smeared some rouge, and donned a pretty dress with a nice pair of f-me pumps. I simply mean that I have traveled to another country.

Tonight, thanks to a strategic seating by the fetching young hostess named Shauna (black hair and blue eyes – is there anything prettier?), I am in the care of Stephanie – a smoldering beauty dressed in black and denim. Steph doesn’t talk much, and she seems immune to my piercing blue eyes and aw shucks smile… Stephanie is a great waitress – a pro. I can spot cool from a mile away, and this young woman is cool. Every single one of you reading this tale tonight would like her. The ladies would like her because she is pretty, but not begging us to look at her. The men would like her simply because she is pretty…but we’re easy like that. The group would appreciate her because we would immediately notice that everybody else seems a little frustrated with the slow service…if you’re at Stephanie’s table, this is not an issue.

A sassy little IPA from a small brewery in Moncton, New Brunswick is the crowbar that will pry out tonight’s Large Man story. The Pump House Brewery beers are really good; if you’re ever in the Maritime Provinces, give them a try.

Something to Think About:

Fathers, be good to your daughters.

I think John Mayer is a tool, but there are few songs that touch me more than Daughters. It says so much, and I see the point every day.

I’ll share (briefly) what I saw yesterday at the Buffalo International Airport…

HER… Palomino blonde, blue eyes the size of a full moon, an athletic but very feminine build that made me almost consider breaking one of the 2 most passionately followed Large Man rules*.

She is sitting alone, and talking on her cell phone to somebody she loves. She is speaking in an eastern European language that I obviously can’t understand or identify.  She smiles and laughs all through the conversation. She is a pretty picture. Her language is percussive and lyrical…her smile is genuine, and her heart is full. This young beautiful girl has all the promise of a sunrise. She makes me smile.

Then he walks up…

HIM… Died black hair, a black pair of these new “skinny” jeans that I’m seeing more and more of…on dudes! Black denim blazer over black and white striped tee-shirt, with a white scarf wrapped around his neck…its fucking August, and this punk is wearing a scarf. He looked like that Adam Lambert dude from American Idol. It works for Adam, I really like him – his new song is great. This guy however, just looked like an idiot. She looked athletic and feminine, he just looked feminine. I really fought back an urge to punch him in his vagina. It wasn’t because of how he looked, it was because of how he behaved. He didn’t make me smile.

I looked at the two of them and I thought of the two angels that sit on each of my shoulders when I’m faced with a moral dilemma. She was the white angel wanting me to do good things…he was the dark angel wanting me to do evil. I mostly interact with these angels when I’m alone in a hotel room looking at pay-per-view options – She wants me to watch Marley and Me. He wants me to watch Girls Gone Wild – Panama City. So they both have important roles in the Large Man world; it mostly depends on how many beers I’ve had when it comes down to whose guidance I follow.

Unfortunately for the Adam Lambert poseur, it’s 9:30 AM and I have had nothing to drink. The fatherly instincts in me lean towards protecting a pretty girl more so than trying to understand and relate to the dark, misunderstood, brooding young man.  Please understand that I understand that both of these kids need a little love. Some guidance from someone who has taken a few trips around the sun could go a long way here. But this dude is just mean. How in the world did this guy worm his way into her world?

He doesn’t talk to her, he just barks at her. Unless “asshole” is a language or accent, he spoke with none. I’m guessing he’s the boyfriend. I’m also guessing that he’s thinking the same thing that everybody else in the Gate 6 area is thinking. What in the HELL is this girl doing with this jerk. This would explain his aggressive posture toward her. He doesn’t deserve the kindness that she continues to show, and she’s eventually going to figure it out and move on. But he has her now. You could see her body language completely change as he walked up and sat down next to her – she went from abundant sunshine, to cloudy with a chance of tears. He wasn’t a physical threat, and as sad as it may seem, the emotional power he had over this girl was more disturbing than if he were a physical threat.

I had to walk away. I decided it was best to leave before I did or said something I would later regret.  I have a tendency to poke at snakes. This was none of my business. However, because I am who I am, as I got up I kinda stared at the guy and shook my head. He made eye contact, and thought about something, but as most bullies do when confronted, he let the thought pass. I can assure you that this young buck could have whipped my old ass like it was a hobby. I knew it, but he didn’t. That’s how bullies are; they’re only strong when someone else is weak.

I don’t have any idea how these two opposites got together. There is no certainty that I’m even right about the dynamic between these two kids.  But I’ll bet I’m close. They could be fine, but just in case, please heed these words…

Fathers, be good to your daughters. Tell them you love them every day. Tell your little girls why you love them. Tell them that they are so special that they never have to put up with shit from any other man, woman, or child. Tell them how smart they are, and how much you admire their strength. Tell your daughters how proud you are to be their Dad. Tell them these things so they don’t have to reconcile their Daddy issues with guys that look like Adam Lambert. Tell them they can avoid pointless relationships with guys who wear white scarves when it’s fucking August.

I think if we tell our daughters these things it will make a difference.

That’s all…just something to think about.

Thanks for reading…one more beer, and I gotta go.

The Large Man

*Rule # 1 – I don’t wear black t-shirts

Rule # 2 – I never ogle real life girls under the age of 25 (by “real life” I mean girls that are not on TV or in movies…you get a pass for that)

Rule #1 is because of my fair complexion and my disdain for the marketing practices of the Jack Daniels Corporation. Rule # 2 is because I have too many friends that have daughters in their teens and twenties, and it’s completely cootiefied for a 50 something year old man to ogle real girls who are that young. There are so many beautiful women in their 40s and 50s that I can objectify, it just seems classier to do that…I can maintain my scoundrel and hound status, but stay classy. It’s important to be classy.  This is my choice, my rule, and my rationalization, and you do not have to agree. No matter how wrong you may be.