The Slow and the Survived.
As a child of a conservative culture, most bare body parts were always objects of awe to me. Surprisingly, the female midriff was more in public domain than bare arms. But that’s cultural nuance for you! Civilization norms, on the other hand, have always insisted upon covering the private parts. This may vary depending on region and era but a place or two or three are inevitably required to be out of public sight. I grew up learning that and even though my personal opinions on the matter have changed, it has not necessarily become ordinary to me to be unphased by a bare tush or the female bosom. Of course, clear view of the major players of coupling always evoke an involuntary scream, of a child, which rings in my mental ear for hours after the sighting. The inner child within me! No matter what, people remember life altering events from their childhood. I still remember the time I saw Sharon Stone’s boobs. I will probably always remember the first time I saw boobs.
It is no wonder that I can still clearly visualize the first time I came across a pair of female breasts that bounced out of nowhere. I must have been 12, and quite precocious regarding certain things. But knowledge about the birds and the bees mostly eluded me. I do have an extensive theory which could be the reason of another trivial text trip. As for that moment in time, when Sharon Stone’s boobies braced the 24” tube TV screen, I was completely and utterly flabbergasted. Not to mention, she was sharing the screen with, my then secret crush, Leonardo DiCaprio. It was the pre-Cameron’s Titanic days and I had only seen snippets of Leo in a shining armor, quite literally, trying to woo a teenaged Claire Danes with fancy speech in modern times. I had not watched the film and, somehow being never-in-possession-of-the-TV-remote in those days, missed all the lip-locking the young lovers did. To me, young Leo was a virginal pretty boy, who would never sully himself with any degree of carnal knowledge of the other sex. Il était impossible!
The dual shock of seeing breasts and having your crush see them as well shook me to the core. I was lucky to be oblivious of the fact that a recorded video can be played and replayed ad infinitum! Imagine Leo seeing them again and again; the horror! Even without realizing the basics of video operation, I was crushed… no pun! Don’t get me wrong, and I may have lied when I said I was precocious regarding certain things… cause it was definitely more than certain things. Prior to this I had been exposed to things of or related to sexual nature. I doubt I ever understood the significance, and only complied to the lessons in repressing any knowledge of this seemingly intriguing matter. They were always funny, gross, or both! That kind of stuff captivates children and I was no different. However, the day I saw Sharon Stone waking up in the white, almost translucent, shirt that managed to part and delight so many with the sacred view of Miss Stone’s knockers, was probably my coming of age. I actually managed to get over Leo’s involvement in the scene and it may have been the first step to adulthood I took. Cute boys will eventually see boobs, and there is nothing I can do to protect their modesty! I wouldn’t learn about the hormonal rage causing the universal male teen angst for another decade. So there I was, accepting the inevitable. But I simply couldn’t let go off seeing a lady’s breasts! It was sometime after the mid-90’s and I had no notion of Basic Instinct and yet, it was not Sharon Stone I was concerned about! I had seen something I didn’t want to and was shot to adulthood in a blink. The vision didn’t leave me for a week! All of a sudden I wanted a world devoid of all things that need to be kept hidden. They are scary when they come out! Yet, after a week’s torment I was fine. I survived. I dealt with with this on my own and I survived. It was an odd right of passage but I got to the other side, although, to this day, bare privates stun me for a good few seconds.