Implants

"Implants" is a surprisingly sensitive word. Dental implants are a pretty safe topic of conversation, but two other types of implants are a conversational minefield.

The first one, which is less salacious than the second, and so will get short shrift in this space, is cochlear implants. A cochlear implant is "a surgically implanted electronic device that provides a sense of sound to a person who is profoundly deaf or severely hard of hearing in both ears." (Definition by Google.)

Why are cochlear implants a conversational minefield? Why did Time ask whether it was "A Cure or a Genocide?" Why were they deplored by many in the Deaf community, and considered by some to be child abuse?

To a person like me, who has excellent hearing (in spite of way too much time in karaoke bars and house clubs), cochlear implants seem amazing and a godsend and lots of other great phrases and adjectives. But I am not Deaf, I am not of that world and I have not been invested in the unique Deaf culture... so it didn't occur to me that there would be resistance to it (although, over time, that resistance is dying down).

If and when I have an opportunity to discuss cochlear implants (which I generally try to squeeze in on the second Wednesday of each month), I am no expert, and I don't even know what I don't know, but I know there is stuff that I don't know, so I know to tread lightly.

Another topic I know to be careful about is the other type of implants I wanna write about: breast implants. Breast augmentation. Boob jobs.

While I have next to no experience with cochlear implants, I have managed to accumulate some first-hand (haha) knowledge of breast implants. And, being the aspiringly enlightened man that I am, I make every effort not to discriminate against boobs on the basis of origin...

As long as they make the woman feel better about herself? Go for it. That it turns out that she looks better in a bikini or a dress (or out of either) is something that I appreciate. I know that it's not about what I think, but I still am gonna think what I'm gonna think, and if it's up to me then I'd like to think good things.

Even as I've typed the last few paragraphs, my inner perv has been wrestling for control of the narrative with the aspiringly enlightened me. I know that someone, somewhere might read this and I want to be respectful but honest, and fortunately I can keep the perv under wraps as I type away in my apartment.

It is markedly more difficult when I am discussing the topic with a female friend in a bar after I've had a few drinks. Difficult because (as with Deaf culture and cochlear implants) I can have an opinion and I can witness things from the outside, but any opinion or (heaven forbid!) advice I'd give on either type of implant would be hopelessly awkward.

For better or worse, though, I recently had a conversation with a friend about her chest and potential upcoming augmentation procedure. The rum was flowing in my system and I was REALLY trying to be a good, gentlemanly, supportive friend, but I had the perv devil on my shoulder and I could hear my alternate response every time I replied. It went something like this (this is dramatized for effect):

Her: So I went to see a doctor last week.
Gentlemanly Me (GM): Oh, yeah?
Pervert Me (PM): *yawn*
Her: I got a consultation on getting my boobs done...
GM: Oh, really?
PM: What? Really? Sweet...
Her: Yeah, since I've lost all this weight and started running more, I've lost my curves.
GM: Hmm... I guess so, but you look great!
PM: Your butt looks great!
Her: And I don't like that I am so flat now.
GM: It happens when you lose weight. You're so slim now.
PM: I've noticed. I miss the girls.
Her: I mean, I don't feel comfortable wearing a tank top, let alone a bikini.
GM: Really? I bet you look great. Not to tell you what to think, but...
PM: So are you really getting those boobs done?
Her: So I think I'm gonna get them bigger.
GM: I'm sure you've thought a lot about it.
PM: How much bigger?
Her: Yeah, I have. I am looking forward to it.
GM: Well, I think you look great now, but if it makes you more comfortable then I look forward to seeing the results.
PM: I am looking forward to the pics as soon as the bruises go away.

Please know that I was Gentlemanly Me throughout the conversation. Not because I didn't want to be flirty or naughty or funny or whatever, but because I understand enough to know that it was a sensitive thing for her ... and because I don't want to spoil the potential for checking out the goods when the dust clears.