You Know Tom

You know Tom. 

Tom… who is attracted primarily to men who possess excessive amounts of back hair. Men entirely unshorn, untrimmed who appear mostly feral and carry themselves with a vague air of wild unpredictability.  Men who appear to have wild abandon.

Tom… who despite his strong clearly expressed hirsute preferences vis a vis the torso posterior, under arms, face, legs, buttocks, arms and ears, strangely requests each of his partners to wax- not shave- their chests so that they are entirely void of any hair follicle when viewed from the front. 

Tom who prefers the hair on men to be extremely course. Or extremely soft, like that of a chinchilla.

But that is about all you care to know about Tom. 

Nonetheless you judge Tom very ill for his preferences.

Preferences you do not share.  Preferences that you view in disgust.  Preferences which you desire to ban.

No, you do not like Tom.

You despise Tom.

In fact, you hate Tom.

Even though Tom saved that busload of kids from going over the rail of that cliff when the Bus Driver suddenly lost consciousness when he had a heart attack while eating a cheeseburger when he was driving that bus to the county fair for a field trip.

And in doing so insured that the bus driver was there to attend his daughter’s wedding several weeks later.

It is the memory of him walking down her down the aisle that his daughter recounts annually around her wedding anniversary as he died a year later. She always has tears of gratitude when she recounts this memory.  She always says "Hallelujah Glory to God!" when she thinks about this memory and how it may not have occurred had it not been for Tom's swift actions that day when the bus almost went over the cliff.

It was little Jimmy in the third row of that bus that day who went on to make medical discoveries that permitted people to walk after having experienced severe spinal traumas. He doesn’t consider himself a hero. But he does consider himself lucky to have survived that day so that he could go on to help others.

It was little Becky in the back row who would have likely bounced out of the bus upon impact who rallied the community during an atmospheric event and saved not most, but ALL, the people in her town by directing them to higher ground. She doesn’t consider herself a hero either.  But she feels that you have to do what is right if you want to do the things that truly matter.  And she feels strongly that Tom did something right when he saved that bus from going over that cliff that day when she was a child.  Becky just likes to pay that forward.

It was little Charlie in the 7th row, ebullient and funny as hell even back then, who went on to entertain the masses after that calamitous global event last year. It was the first time in a long time that many of us had a smile on our faces.  Charlie doesn’t consider himself a hero. He just doesn’t like to see people sad and was happy to entertain everyone for an hour and give them a little break from the many troubles they had experienced.

When asked how Tom came to conclude the Bus Driver needed medical attention, Tom said "I was just thinking about the Glory of God and my attention was drawn to the mighty mighty ocean and all it's beauty and I realized that Sam appeared to have his head bowed in solemn prayer with me. And I thought to myself 'Why Tom, that makes less sense than a prairie chicken agreeing to be dinner for barbecue!' And it was at that moment I realized I needed to act!"

After saving the busload of children and the Bus Driver from certain death, he went on about his day where he served soup to old veterans, coached hockey, and chaired a knitting circle for a group of lonely elderly women.

And every day, Tom goes home, to his partner Fred, who- yes, does possess Tom’s hirsute preferences- and gives him a great big ol' hug when he does so. He prefers to kiss on the cheek like the French so he does that too.

You don’t like Fred either.

You don't like Fred because he’s weird.  Not for any specific reason is he weird. He is just weird. Generally weird. 

You can’t be bothered with weird. 

And you can’t be bothered with Fred. 

Even though Fred saved your life that one day when you almost walked into the street into the path of the busload of children that Tom saved later that day. He gently pulled you back to the curb and said “Whoa there partner. You done almost got runned over. That sure would have ruined your day.”  He had a great big smile and made eye contact.

You were mad at Fred because he jostled you and pulled on your jacket.

And because he is Tom's partner.

Sure let’s hate on Tom because he prefers a certain kind of man to possess a certain type, style, and texture of body hair.

You know Tom.

He’s also a teacher.