TO HUG OR NOT TO HUG . . .
That is the question.
Today you’ll never get an answer just by “hanging around and watching.” Or reading the news. It’s more complicated than that. Poor old Biden . . . he’s in a mess he doesn’t quite understand. But does anybody?
Acceptability of hugging depends on a bunch of things—your age, your gender, and the age and gender of the hugee.
If you happen to be a great grandfather, you are definitely not a hugger, especially of other males. Instead you stick out your hand. I’ve never seen Rob hug a same-age guy . . . and only with an embarrassed grin does he accept the hugs of his grandsons. Yet he thinks nothing of grabbing the arm of an attractive young female.
I admit it—I’m a hugger. And so are most of my women friends – but not all. It’s up to me to discern who among them is or is not. I’m also happy to hug long-friend males, of whatever age, but they have to extend their arms first. I love it that my sons and grandsons are also huggers. From them, in fact, I get more such arms-out affection, by far, than I do from my husband.
Here’s today’s brand-new rule: young males hug each other, as I just observed at a large, twenty-somethings birthday party. The male host hugged every one of his arriving male friends . . . but not necessarily the females. Frankly, I’m not sure about that rule—young male to girl-friend of other young male.
Well, so I don’t have a “fix” on all the rules. But if you want to see part of today’s answer to who’s allowed to hug whom, it’s on the front page of today’s Los Angeles Times. In general, like the French, we’ve become more of a hugging and air-kissing society.
Except when we haven’t . . . except when the # Me Too is operating and nobody is allowed in our space.