Shouldn’t something be said about shoulders? Broad shoulders with room enough to lean on and cry on and sit on to see above the crowd. Shoulders that carry sleepy toddlers up the stairs, and fifty-pound backpacks down into the canyon. Shoulders bent and a bit droopy from trying to carry the weight of the world, because someone once told him he should. Because someone once told him a man shouldn’t lean on anybody. Because someone once told him a man should be strong enough to support his family. It’s what a man should be, they said. Shoulders locked in place from too many shoulds. Shoulders sore from sitting hunched over too long in front of a computer. Shoulders tight and tense from too many hours putting shoulder to the wheel and nose to the grindstone. Shoulders that freeze and pull the first time he decides he really should get out and play tennis. Really should pump iron for a while. Really should spread his wings and fly. We wrap our arms around shoulders and hang sports jackets on shoulders and stand shoulder-to-shoulder when the going gets tough. Shouldn’t something be said about shoulders?
Excerpted from What There Is To Love About A Man, by Rachel Snyder (Sourcebooks, 1999). Currently out-of-print, although you can find used and remainder copies (bearing a black mark on the cover or spine) for pennies on the dollar here as well as over here. Eight cents for the book and $3.99 for shipping: Such a deal!