How' bout a hug?

Put down that Sponge Bob tie. You wanna give me a gift this Christmas, give me a hug.

They're cheap, they are simple and they are warm. Just like a cup of cocoa, which also comes in handy this time of the year. Still, I prefer the hugs. Save the cards, save the gifts and save the cookies. Give me a hug and I am one happy Chilean.

Which is a great thing about Moses Lake, and the Basin in general, people aren't as hug-shy as they are in other parts of the state. I have always been hug-happy, and sometimes that led to misunderstandings. Especially in college.

The first time I tried to hug a friend in college, oh my. You would have thought I was coming at them with a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. After a while, they got used to it, but I imagine they only breathed a sigh of relief after they saw me with a girlfriend.

I never understood how uptight people got when you tried to hug them. After all, it's in the American lexicon, isn't it? When something goes wrong for somebody, you don't say "do you need a high-five?" or "how about a French kiss to make it all better?" You offer them a hug. And yet, when you try to hug them, some people freeze up as if you were covered in urchins.

And if you try to kiss them, forget it. I was used to the idea of the male-to-female, kiss-on-the-cheek greeting that is common in Latin America, but when I tried to use it in the U.S., the land of the free turned into the land of the freaked out. So I stuck to hugs.

As a hugger, I have met quite a few non-huggers. You know who you are. Stand still, lean your body forward, stick your arms out and touch the other person's shoulders with the tip of your fingers. As if to say, "you disgust me, but I can't get out of this, so here you go. Don't drop too much slime on me."

In fairness, there is also the over-hugger, the one that hugs you and then hangs on to you forever. You feel like saying "Yeah, merry Christmas to you. And since it's tomorrow, happy Groundhog Day, too."

But I don't mind it, especially when the over-hugger is a certain BBCC student, close member of my circle of friends, whom when she hugs me looks like an ant hugging an oak tree. But it works.

The Basin, home of the sandhill crane and the great blue heron is also home to some great huggers. The sheriff of Grant County is married to one of them. Charlene De Trolio hugs you like she has not seen you for months, and when she does, she plants a big, Italian, ti-voglio-bene smackeroo on your cheek. As another Italian sang decades ago, now, that's amore!

Then there's LeAnn Pauley, from Columbia Basin Allied Arts, she of the long black coat and the ever-present "fabulous!," and Ellen Webb from the Grant County Democrats. Not to forget two of my adoptive "moms" in Grant County, Pam Engelmann and Maxine Ivory. Great huggers all.

Of course, in this job, you can't get too caught up in the hugging or people will think the paper hired a Care Bear for a reporter and that a Bear hug is their ticket out of anything. I'd hate to see the mayor of a town go "An article about my Bolivian mistress! I knew I shoulda hugged him more!" Or another mayor stop an interview and go "Embezzlement? Me? C'mere and show me some love!!"

Nah, that's not going to happen. And if it does, until then, keep the hugs comin'.

On second thought, the hugs AND the cookies.