La beauté n’a pas d’importance. Quand on est un homme aimable, on finit par avoir une beauté dans le regard, dans la manière d’être en vieillissant.¹
— Charles Aznavour
The lyrics, in both French and English, are here Qui Who
Il faut savoir, coûte que coûte, Garder toute sa dignité Et, malgré ce qu’il nous en coûte, S’en aller sans se retourner Face au destin qui nous désarme.²
— Charles Aznavour
Helluva preamble to my post, eh? Lemme explain myself before I continue. Yesterday, the world lost the fabulous French/Armenian singer, Charles Aznavour – also known as the “Frank Sinatra of France”. You can’t really feel bad. The man was 94 and had a most prolific life. If you click on his name, you have access to a wonderful article on his life as well as a link to his most famous English song “She”.
But I digress…
Because of his passing, I ended up on YouTube to listen to my favourite tunes by him, such as “La Bohème” and “Emmenez-moi” (the latter being, by the way, IMPOSSIBLE to sing along to in a Karaoke session. Trust me. I’ve tried) and left YouTube to do its thing and play whatever it felt like… well.
Along came Cesária Évora and her sultry voice singing “Besame Mucho”. My Spanish is so-so but passable enough to know that Besame had to do with kissing. So, of course, the Google came into use when I searched the English translation of the song for confirmation. While I continue blathering on, g’head, enjoy the late great Cesaria…
I started thinking about kissing. And how much I love it. And miss it. I think we don’t spend nearly enough time kissing, to tell the truth. I’m not talking about those pecks on the cheeks or those chaste, dry, barely-there touches of lips, unless those are just to lead up to the real thing. I’m talking about those deep, long, slow kisses that turn your insides to liquid mercury. I’m talking From Here to Eternity beach kiss scene…
Those mornings when we kiss and surrender for an hour before we say a single word.”
―
When you first start dating, you spend so much time just kissing: while taking a walk, while doing dishes, while sitting on the couch. It doesn’t matter where but you sneak them in wherever and whenever you can. You can’t seem to get enough. And it’s not automatically a foreplay of foreplay, either. Not saying that it can’t be, mind you… You kiss just to feel connected to your partner. You’re getting to know them on an intimate level. The dance appeals, you keep on dancing.
“If we’re going to kiss, it has to be book-worthy.”
―
Now, what I write here is my own personal experience and I am totally generalising but somehow, I am sure many can relate.
After a while, your relationship falls into that long term category. Kissing is still very enjoyable but the spontenaity has decreased. As has duration of most kisses. They are not so deep and long. You may still find yourselves kissing for kissing’s sake but let’s face it, it is now more of a foreplay to foreplay.
“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.”
―
Years pass and you are happily coupled – married or not, same diff, to me… Kissing somehow has taken a backseat. No matter how much love is between you, those long, slow, deep kisses are now reserved for the bedroom as foreplay. Or maybe they start in the living room or kitchen (if you’re lucky) but they’re still an invitation to make your way to your love nest. And they don’t last that long anymore. Mind you, my circumstances made that I didn’t get a chance to find out what happens when the children leave the family home… Does your kissing game go up a notch? Do you do like those silly movies and transform your son’s bedroom into a “play room”? I sure like to think so. I like to imagine that you rediscover that freedom you had when you first met.
I’m not saying some couples don’t kiss and kiss often. But do they last more than a few seconds? Rarely. But hey, they are still good. Kudos to the couples who have kept up their kissing game.
“Now a soft kiss – Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.”
―
One last thing. Another reason I decided to write this post it this: I never thought to find myself back “on the market”, so to speak at my age. Thanks, Mick. Dammit.
That said. I will TOTALLY judge you on your kiss. If you don’t try to kiss me on our first date, that might be okay, depending on how the date went…. then again, it will show me you are not that into me. Cool. We move on.
If you do kiss me? I will decide then and there if we move on to the next stage.
——————
¹ Beauty has no importance. When we are a lovable man, we end up with a beauty in our gaze, in our way of being while growing older.
² One must know, no matter the cost, how to keep one’s dignity. And, despite the personal cost, to move forward, without looking back and face the destiny that disarms us.
💋💋💋💋💋
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❤💋❤💋❤💋❤
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Words escape me now!
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🙂
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Q,
A great kiss is what happens in lieu of an astronaut’s license. You HAVE to mean it, otherwise don’t show up. Come with game, plant your flag (no innuendo intended) and go. Just go.
I learned to kiss, really kiss, at the tender age of seven. I knew that kissing? Meant something. And a lot more than that. Before I knew how to do most other important things. After which, the other important things, weren’t as important as that important thing.
You understand what ‘that kiss’ means. What it invokes and provokes. And you understand its spiraling effects, those fantastically cursive objects that lead to the old come what may.
Bravalicious!
Kisses and hugs. And more kisses (Since, yanno . . )
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B,
Abso-fucking-lutely. You have to mean it… but you also have to have some basic skills, or at least some genuine enthusiasm. Then again, there are some who are way too enthusiastic!
Did ya now? Man.. I was a late bloomer then… of course, who wants to kiss a buck-toothed, scrawny “Olive Oyl”? It was a skill I worked on, once the braces came off, I can assure you.
I do. And it does. And you have such a lovely way of describing it… next time, I’m going to you for help…
Kisses and hugs and more kisses, for shizzle – and sizzle.
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Late bloomers rock the casbah, so there is that. As for the rest of this lipstick candy of a post? Yum.
And yes, there HAS to be that happy medium. This doesn’t mean the happy is medium, because there ain’t no fun in that. Nope, this means you don’t attempt to strangle your dance partner with your tongue. I know, it seems like a simple request, but . . .
I remember getting stuck in braces! There was a moment when we thought that’s how it was gonna end!
Always go for the shizzle. Always.
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Late bloomer – that was totally me.
Lipstick candy, eh?
LOL! NO… please don’t strangle your partner with your tongue… and don’t keep your mouth pinched shut with a stiff little snake of a tongue coming out to spear you and good God… please do not try to swallow your partner whole or lick her face.
Somehow, I never got caught in my braces. Oh yeah… that’s coz I didn’t kiss anyone till they were off… sigh…
Shizzle. Always.
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Lipstick IS candy, fo shiz.
There should be a law . . we shall call it the “Freddie Krueger Law”- applicable in all fifty states of the union. AND . . the entire world. All tongue strangling is hereby prohibited by law.
THAT was a good policy you had there. 😉
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Good to know… but I don’t think it applies to everyone 😉
Yes. There should be. No strangling allowed.
Kinda feel I mighta missed out…
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Thankfully. Mercifully, it does not.
Yes, no strangling is good policy. For basically, well . . . everything. It never ends well.
Ain’t no worries, because there ain’t no such thing as missing out. There is only the sublime of where you stand, and watcha do with it. 😉
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No. Thank gawd.
Well… if you say so 😉
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Oh, you heard a darned thing there. 😉
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🙂
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Done like dinner!
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Ha ha! Buh-bye…
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I won’t say what I said a couple years back when the Cubs finally broke through. And you know why?
Well yes, as a matter of fact, you do . . .
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😀
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And Prince is back on YouTube.
This was a bittersweet discovery.
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Yes. A bittersweet thing for sure.
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What a great song. I find it hard to believe there is a person alive (driving age) who ain’t pumped this song up to maximum overload inside their ride.
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True dat.
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It IS true. AND dat!
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Beautifully true Dale, what a wonderful piece
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Thank you, Mr. Shrawley!
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No worries! I like a bit of French too!!
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😊
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Hope this is the correct link, if not please accept my apologies!
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One of those pieces of music that goes on and on…
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It does a bit
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Getting ready for FF, hopefully the picture will arrive before I go out to work, so as I can think on it.
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Such a lovely honest piece of writing. I wrote a poem called The Kiss, a few years ago.
Missing you
the kiss is missing
that’s what I really miss
the kissing
I miss the kissing
and missing the kissing
I need a kiss
but the kiss
is missing
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Thank you, Jilly.
Love your missing the kissing!
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Beautiful, from music to musing about the power of kiss. And I agree on all points.
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Thank you, Loré. So very glad you enjoyed. (And agreed! 😉)
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Dear Dale,
Thank you for translating the quotes. A kiss is just a kiss…NOT. So much of this piece struck a chord. And I’ll leave it at that. Well written and thoughtful. I’m sure you’re voicing the thoughts of many here.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Dear Rochelle,
I am so glad you enjoyed my thoughts on the importance of kissing 😉
And most welcome for the translations!
Lotsa love,
Dale
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I was wondering where you were going with Charles Aznavour. I knew who he was, but I don’t really know his music. But you are so right about kissing.
We’re seeing Lucinda Williams next month, so: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23J7WYsaUWA
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I figured I’d include my “how I got there” part 😉
Kissing is so important.
And I love Lucinda Williams, so thank you for the video!
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🙂
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Hm. Kissing. Years ago, Sis and boyfriend of the Mo (and there were a fair few) were into Tonsil Tennis . Put me off for years.
Sloppy kisses are from kids and dogs, but not together!!!!
Passion needs a bomb rather than a match to set things off these days.
Tender, loving kisses, cuddles and…………………………………………………………….. what?
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Tonsil Tennis!! Haha. Love it.
Yes. Sloppy kisses are only good from kids and dogs.
These days, they have no clue…I’m with you, Do, all the way…😊
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🙂
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aaawh, this well and truly breaks my heart….. we both, HH and I, loved Charles Aznavour and deeply regret his death. And your kiss-able kiss-debate sparks (sadly) true enough…. Don’t be fooled by anything people want you to believe, you speak truer words than strictly necessary 😉
I (again, sadly) often say to HH when he sends a butterfly kiss, dry as an autumn leaf, my way, already half gone before I realise that this – in fact – for him counted as a kiss: Can you do that again, but this time put some effort in it?! And it often isn’t much more the 2nd time but we mustn’t grab for stars on a misty morning, must we????
This is easily your BEST post ever, Dale – I bow in acknowledgment of a great writer 🙂
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Yes, another great one gone but he did have 94 pretty darn good years, so it’s hard but he was not young. And such a legacy he left!
As for the kissing…I speak true from experience… have had my share of “dry as autumn leaf” kisses myself.
And whoa! Best? You are most kind and generous.
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and on a different note: Would you and sorryless just LOOK at the comments trail you’re leaving….. 😉
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We are nuts, to be sure .. 😉
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I don’t think you generalized at all. You have described the life of kissing exceptionally well. Here’s hoping the frog smooches are at a minimum
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Thank you, John.
Yes, please… frog smoochers stay away!
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Ha ha ha
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I enjoyed reading this post. IT brought back memories, stirred some potential comments. But in the end, I’ll remark only this: A kiss is still a kiss … as years go by.
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Glad you did, Crispina.
And I’ll take your remark 🙂
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Surely kissing is to love what singing is to music? Sadly, few of us perform with the passion of Aznavour. He will be sorely missed…
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Absolutely, Mel!
He will most definitely…
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I hope that man with his endless kisses enters your life. He will be the lucky one. ❤
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Awww… thank you, dear lady! 😘
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