An Admiration of Breasts


I had the honor of meeting Mark in DC last month. I always appreciate his blog posts, but none more than this. Please get involved. It doesn’t matter how busy you are. You can register your grocery shopping card to benefit research, or recycle, or just post more on social media. Every action brings us more awareness and closer to the cure.

A Generous Helping

Like a pimply-faced teenager, I find myself once again consumed with breasts. It has been nearly 35 years since I went from a jostling, happy 12 year-old to a smug, confused teenager who finally noticed there was a difference between his buddies and the girl next door. Ah, Dawn Holstead. For so many years, Dawn played the same sports and games the rest of we boys did. She pretty much dressed like us and besides having longer hair, she looked a great deal like us. Since it was the 70’s, even shaggy hair wasn’t a great differentiator.

Then one day, I noticed she was…different. It was like something grew overnight. Yes, Dawn had started her inevitable change into a woman. Things got really dicey after that. Her ascent into womanhood was very inconvenient in the neighborhood because she decided to go all out and be a girly-girl instead of our fourth man. Two-on-two basketball became one-on-one with someone sitting out…

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