However, I let the mustache part keep going. So now (mid-January) I have some sort of Captain Morgan/Civil War Major General thing going on.
But back in December I had an epiphany; maybe for the last couple decades I've had a kid's mustache. That is, I've let the facial topiary go to a 10 o'clock shadow, trimmed it back to 8, let it go to 10, trimmed it to 8.
Sort of the way a teenage boy brushes his teeth - just enough to avoid the dentist.
No, shadows and teeth aren't right.
Ok, it's more like an actual lawn. There's always good ground cover, but I never let the grass grow long enough to lay down on its own.
Ah, THAT'S my normal beardscape; like a suburban lawn mid-July.
Now that it's the middle of January, my yard is overgrown. My chin is shrub-like, and I can handlebar my mustache. Yes, I can twist the sides up into a smile.
It's sort of 'punk rock'. I get looks from people on the street. They're slightly scared, slightly in awe, slightly upset or disturbed - as if I've pierced my eyebrow, tattooed my neck, or gauged my earlobes.
My friends all say, "Dude, you look cool."
These friends all happen to be guys. I think they appreciate the balls I have to have this on my face. OR they want to see how long I'll go before I realize I look like a total ass.
No woman has said, on her own, that she liked it. If I ask they will smile, nod their head, lose eye contact momentarily as they regroup, and then tell me they think it's working. It's polite for, "You look like an ass."
All cards revealed, my wife does not care for it. I'm paraphrasing to make it sound that kind.
"I don't have a lot to work with up here," I said pointing to my bald dome. "So I'm just bringing it downstairs."
"I hate it," she said. "What happened to Shavecember?"
Yes, so, I'm a little slow. I'm into my handlebar mustache. I even bought a wax so I could 'train' the hairs to go to the side.
And this is where I understood that I've been sporting a child's mustache since college.
A MAN'S mustache - taking most notes from Tom Selleck and some from Burt Reynolds - has a flow. It has some sort of destination. It's thick and luxurious. Well, if not luxurious, it's serious - like a lion's mane. You shouldn't get too close.
A MAN'S mustache eats its own meal. It says, "I'm hungry now. Go make me a sandwich with meat in it."
A MAN'S mustache says to anyone within earshot, "Excuse me, I'm sitting here. I'm not merely passing though."
A MAN'S mustache yells at the guy on the bus. "You, over there! With the chin! Go ahead, take a picture with your phone! I will outlast it!"
I'm not a kid anymore, or George Michael. I needn't mess around with lengthy stubble. I should don a MAN's mustache, and groom it accordingly.
Having said that, please understand I am quite comfortable with my metrosexuality. I'll get all up in there to trim back the nasal forest, I'll shave down my ears, and I'll pull out the hairs that connect my eyebrows. No problem.
But the waxing of the 'stache might be too much. It seems a bit too 'precious'. I don't know I'm that much of a MAN.
The PROBLEM is that it's getting in my mouth. I feel like I'm sucking on a hair brush.
But the REAL problem is food. Food to a mustache is like wind to a combover. It ain't pretty.
"Dude, it that chicken?"
I had a conversation about trimming the other day with a friend.
"Maybe you should just cut the hairs in front," he said.
"No, I think that's weird," I said. "Because then it's like a mullet; all business in front and party on the sides."
However, I'm rethinking that. I'm rethinking all of it. It seems I barely have time for things I'm active. Who has time for all this manscaping?
My wife has suggested/demanded this thing be gone by Feb 14. It might make its exit sooner.
Mad props to the champion beardsmiths and mustache men. Mad props indeed.
[Addendum: Jan 31 - I began to feel like a woman whose long nails prevent her from making a phone call. So I trimmed back my facial garden. I can soup again.]
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