I have received various comments over the years regarding girth, bulk, etc.
I believe my cousin's wife said it best... she said I was "thick." I got a kick out of that.
I have known for decades I was a little bulkier than average but it is not surprising due to the amount of heavy physical labor performed along with a fair amount of exercise of all types.
Add the musculature to a "large frame" and it makes sense regarding various incidents throughout life.
Walking down the college classroom building hall, departing the lab at night, with few folks around, there have been numerous times I saw fear etched upon the face(s) of the female(s) I pass/meet. The school in question was a safe one with very little crime.
Noticing this I did ask other guys if they noticed the same thing I did. A couple burly robust blokes uttered that they, too, had noticed this while the thinner guys, the ones without musculature and/or bulk generally replied in the negative and asked if it just wasn't "my problem," the manner I interpreted the situation. I didn't argue, no need to, but when you see actual fear on a face it IS apparent.
Yes, I am convinced there are various frame sizes. I have been called "barrel chested." It runs in the family on Dad's side. Uncle Jim is very "BIG boned." In the Marine Corps his nickname was "Ox" due to his build. That nickname could have been for his odor but with his above-the-norm physical strength there likely wasn't too many that would mention that aspect of "Oxness."
Bulk, BIG bones, thickness, girth, large frame, whatever it is called assuredly exists. Of course, that pesky old bell curve comes into play.
Some guys are really thin, almost emaciated in appearance but that is the norm for them. Most guys fall somewhere in the middle of the curve then there's the gorillas at the upper end.
There's a need within society for all body types. I recall down in Texas 25 years ago or so when the toddler fell down the 30-foot well. Sandy soil, couldn't dig to widen the well where the kid was solidly wedged. Couldn't snag with a hook and the well's sides were crumbling and it was feared the kid could be covered and suffocated.
Work began on a shaft nearby, dig vertically then horizontally to reach the kid but the activity caused more dirt to detach from the well the kid was in and plummet down. Had to stop digging.
Many onlookers. Authorities pondered, trying to think of some way to get the kid who had been down there over 24 hours and appeared to be weakening.
A voice from the crowd was heard and an itty bitty thin grown male walked out. Just a dime-out-of-a-dollar sized Hispanic guy. A brisk wind could send him tumbling. The guy who would never make the football team or instill fear in an opponent (barring the wielding of a firearm).
He told the rescuers to tie a rope to his legs and lower him head-first the 30-feet down so he could dislodge the kid (whose leg was bent upwards alongside the torso leading to fears it was broken and could be lost due to lack of blood circulation...if the kid survived).
With no other feasible rescue plans the rope was tied and the mini-guy lowered straight down, trying to avoid his touching the side of the very narrow well.
There was great risk of the well collapsing, burying the bloke and the kid. But, the attempt worked. Carefully dislodging the kid our hero held the kid's arms to keep the kid as narrow as possible for the ascent. As they cleared the well the assembled multitude went ecstatic, especially the parents.
The biggest toughest strongest guy was useless here. It was the scrawniest short spit-in-the-wind guy that saved the day....and the munchkin. While the BIG guy in high school may bask in internal glory for that winning touchdown THIS itty bitty guy saved a life.
Hooray!!!!!!!!!
The BIG bulky guys are needed, too. Sometimes you need pure muscle power, bulk, raw brutal strength. Grrrrrrrrr.
In the physical part of life it appears that "diversity" IS a strength. Maybe not so much at the cultural/social aspect of human life, though.
During combat a constant flow of ammo needs to be delivered to front-line troops. Especially with entrenched forces fighting large-scale battles where the enemy keeps coming by the thousands. Time after time it has been shown that the smaller wirey guys are the ones able to keep dragging the ammo boxes to the front then returning to drag more. Over and over. The BIG bulky guys have to expend energy to haul their own bulk along with the ammo and tend to tire sooner, becoming so exhausted they have to stop and rest while the wirey guys keep on chugging.
Then you have the poor fools such as I whose bulk is needed to handle the heavier loads. When trucking I was often given the loads of refrigerators, washers, and other heavy items because I could deliver the dern things to the small retail outlets in smaller towns where loading/unloading docks and forklifts were rare. And, I usually had to unload the stuff myself. A small framed guy would have had a lot of difficulty unloading the stuff. Heck, I had to grunt and exert myself to a great extent to unload the stuff without damage.
If given the choice, I would rather be of medium frame and considered wirey. But, I am stuck with the large frame. There IS one advantage to the larger frame, though. During the younger days when one had to be ready for another male to confront you....strangers you had never seen before with no reason to harass you... some weird younger male psychological thing, I guess..... it was often possible to defer the idiots with the proper responses.
I still recall with semi-delight the mouthy ones who tried to scare me with threats of physical attack due to the way I had "looked" at them. Huh? It was night time in front of the 7-11 stop-and-rob convenience store. Modesto, California. 1981 or so when I was 24. Walking towards the store to pay for the gas I just pumped the 5 idiots caught my attention and began their threats. Young Coot was in a bad mood. Stood there in front of the slightly younger hoodlums and listened for a bit before I began to lecture them. It was great fun to lambast the fools, pointing my finger and inviting them to do what they were threatening. I jumped on their case HARD. And, my raw anger was apparent. Anger and lack of fear backed up with my bulk. Luckily, they didn't have a weapon(s) or, if they did, did not pull any out.
Those dummies stood there and listened to me, not moving a muscle. At the end of the lecture I asked if they thoroughly understood me. Hee hee, they nodded. I then told the riff raff to behave themselves before they made someone really angry.
Entered the store, paid for the gas and left. The hooligans avoided my gaze as I left.
Wheeeeeee!!!!!!
Other incidents where above-the-norm bulk and the proper attitude detered one or more potential assailants.
Old Coot is so very very happy that those affairs of youth slackened off in my 30s and disappeared in my late 30s.
Gosh, there's gotta' be a couple morals, at least, within all those words up there. Just gotta' be!!!!!
