Hands Off -- The World Is Full Of Huggers - And Nonhuggers

THERE ARE TWO TYPES of people in the world: Huggers and nonhuggers.

It should come as no surprise to anyone to learn that I am a nonhugger.

Nor should it be a big surprise that my wife, The Truly Unpleasant (But Ever Popular) Mrs. Johnston, is a hugger.

Left up to her, people would spend the first 15 minutes of any chance encounter locked in some kind of wrestling match, patting each other on the back and saying how good it is to see the other person.

As for myself, I would rather put someone in a head lock and give his head a hearty Dutch rub than stand there rocking back and forth, wrapped in a bear hug.

Growing up in a family with mainly brothers, I learned early as a survival tool that anytime someone wraps their arms around you, they are going for a take-down move. Unless you duck your head quickly under the other person's outreaching arms and twist one arm up behind their back, they will have you on the floor screaming "Uncle" in a few seconds.

So it always comes as a surprise when I find out that someone just wants to give me a warm friendly hug and not a bone-crushing head lock when they come at me with their arms waving and making funny clucking sounds in their throats. Of course, it also always surprises these people when I quickly slip under their extended arms and have their right arm twisted behind them before they can scream out, "Good to see you too!"

Luckily for me, most of my friends are in the writing business and the last thing most writers want to do is touch another human being. They sure don't want to give any other human a big hug. Most writers would rather write about hugging each other than actually do it.

So they are usually startled when they walk into our house and are jumped by Mrs. Johnston, who is always glad to see anyone other than her husband.

Mrs. Johnston, it should be noted, grew up in a family that was mainly sisters, so her view on people who come running at her with their arms extended is a little different than mine. She assumes they aren't going to do her any harm.

Sometimes the Ever Huggable Mrs. Johnston will crouch behind the door, waiting for some hapless visitor to come in, and then she will pounce on them. If the person isn't a stranger to our house, they accept the hugging good-naturedly. "Yes, it's good to see you, too," these people croak as they try to gather up all those Amway products they brought over to sell us.

Of course, when a hugger meets another hugger it is sort of like the clash between Godzilla and King Kong. Only they are locked together in your living room and not over Tokyo.

The holidays are the worst time of year for us nonhuggers because everywhere we go, people are hugging us. Even strangers feel the urge to go up to complete strangers and give them big hugs. I always check to see if my wallet is still there after these encounters.

The last 10 years have been just plain bad for nonhuggers because of that guy who runs around the country, hugging people and telling them to "release the child within." Plus there is an even more disturbing new trend growing out in the forests, where grown men sit around a camp fire, pound on drums and hug each other.

Right now, there are people reading the above paragraphs and their fingers are twitching and their arms are flexing. They feel they need to hug someone.

"You know, Maude," they are saying, "this guy writing this story is just crying out for a great big hug. I think I'll slip into my sensitive suit and go look this guy up and give him that great big hug he needs."

There is nothing more irritating to a hugger than hearing about a nonhugger trying to avoid them. They are sort of like a big white-haired cat who sees you in a dark blue suit and senses that the last thing you want is a cat sitting on your lap. That cat, like a hugger, can't stay away.

Just remember what the last guy said when he gave me a great big hug:

"Uncle!"