Mobruary

In November I did Movember. I shaved cheek to chin and grew a mustache over the course of the month. It was weird to see/feel my entire naked jawline, but then I went back to my normal goatee in December and everything was fine.

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.]

Dear @80degrees and @skeletonkey, or How I Stopped Clogging up the Stream and Learned to Love Instagram

Hi, how are you.

I'm fine, thanks.

I just wanted to take a moment to tell you how much I enjoy your photos. They are all beautiful.

BEAUTIFUL.

@80degrees - I know you. I am not surprised by your use of composition and color. I am not surprised at the poetry and rhythm of your subjects. I am not surprised how many 'likes' you get. @skeletonkey - holy crap! I had NO idea.

Before I fell down the Instagram rabbit hole, I thought it was all about a square format and filters. I mean, to a certain extent, it still is. But I was basically taking tons of pictures of my daughter and making it look like she was from the 70s. I was clogging up the stream.

And then @80degrees pointed out the warren for the field...

'Ah, I see. I get it now.'

Well, I'm still getting it, but what I think I got was that photography is the thing here.

Sure, you can take tons of snaps of your loved ones, and things you like to eat and drink and pet, but you're going to clog the stream. Instagrammers follow family, the famous, and photographers. They don't want to see ALL those shots of your kid on the slide. They want your best ONE. Or maybe TWO if they're really good.

So now I take pictures with my other apps - although mostly the one that came with the phone. But then I put these pictures through my arsenal of photo/art apps. And THEN I bring them to Instagram.

I'm into it.

Of course, if I were REALLY into it, I would know the right #iphoneograpy hashtags, and I would know my emoji keyboard as well as my qwerty keyboard. Also, I would make time to give the proper props to everyone who has labored over their digital and mobile works of art, and I would thank everyone who has propped mine.

But sometimes I take time and pay attention.

I've noticed you, @skeletonkey. Different, but perhaps from the same school as @80degrees; clean lines, great use of color and/or contrast, strong compositions. And as it happened, the other day I put 5 and 6 together and got something near a dozen, specifically when I clicked on your profile.

Holy crap, that's Marielle! No way! She's just a kid. Oh, wait a second, she's actually a teenager. Whoa... How did that happen?

Ahem...

So, @skeletonkey, you are your own artist. You have a confident and surprisingly mature eye. That said, it's easy to see the apple doesn't fall from the tree that happens along the way. Good work, both of you!

----

@skeletonkey

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@80degrees

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Lynx:

Tumblr VX4

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Tiny Planet

@r_von_sugarfoot - me
@tselliot
@tresawesome
@daniellarosario
@jvdt
@snoopdogg
@anton_in_nyc
@violasoprano
@tonydetroit
@awnoom
@happy5lucky
@ria
@5i

Twas 2K11

Twas the night BEFORE the holiday party and I got an e-mail about 8:40
It was Ben Keller, “Hey, what’s up ya’ll, Betsy and I are having a shorty.”
Huzzah for Ben, Betsy, Danielle and Steve, and all the new babies born this year
We raise a glass to you and offer a cheer!

Huzzah!

Yes, well, ‘twas NOW the night of the holiday party and everyone was getting dressed
I was in my office rocking back and forth, my knees pulled to my chest
Chris Claeys walked in and said with a cough, and a bit of phlegm
“Hey, Stein, um, why are the lights off, do I need to replace them?”
“No,” I said. “They’re good. I just need to sit in the dark for a bit.”
I have to read a poem tonight and, well, I ain’t got nothing writ.”
“Doesn’t this happen every year?” he said with concern in his voice
“Yes, I don’t know why I do this, especially as it’s by choice.”
“Well, you better get it together because it’s almost time.
But no matter what you do, you make that fucker rhyme.”
“Ok, you’re not helping, I don’t even have the first line.”
“Twas the night something something, get your coat, you’ll be fine.”

But before we could do anything Santa appeared at the door.
He had a look in his eye, one that said he needed a score
But what really got our attention was the knife in his hand
“Hey,” said Chris. “My daughter sells that brand.”
“Back off old man,” said St Nick brandishing his blade.
“Whoa, who are you calling old? Please. Like I’m really afraid.”
“Don’t make me cut you, man, I’ll fucking cut you! I swear!”
“Ok, Santa, please put the knife down and have a seat in the chair.
But in a quick Kris Kringle clip, Santa sprinted down the hall
“I’m losing my buzz, man,” he said, “I gotta make a call.”

We tried to follow him but he was running too fast
We saw Amy who said, “Yeah, I saw him, he just ran past
He was huffing and puffing like he couldn’t catch his breath
And he said something about needing to score some more meth”
Chris Hafner came round the corner in a cowboy hat and bolo
“Hey dudes, do you have any idea where I could hang my Han Solo”
“Wait, what?!” said Brain Higgins coming through the door
His Star Wars excitement impossible to ignore
“You have Han Solo, that’s gotta be quite a sight.”
“Yeah man, it’s awesome, it’s him suspended in carbonite.”
Cody McGuire strolled up to us with a drink in his hand
“I know what you’re thinking, but this pink shirt makes me the man.”

Nick Chiou was right on cue.
“I know then make those shirts for men, too.”
“Dude, I’m gonna finish this drink, and then you.”
“This isn’t really the time,” I said. “And I don’t mean to be a dick”
“But I think we have other problems, we need to find St Nick.”

We split up and I went round the south side
Tried to think where Pere Noel might try to hide
From Jason’s room I heard what sounded like crying
I crept over quietly so no one knew I was spying
Santa was cowered in the corner with pillows around him like a fort
Jason was smiling, “You know what you need, a nice shot of Malort!”

Santa took a sip and his cheeky red glow took on a greener demeanor
“What the fuck is that, dude? It tastes like an industrial cleaner?”
“Be a man, Santa, throw it back and take a good swig.
Before you know it, you’ll be flying high and dancing a jig.”
Santa drank it down in one gulp and wiped off his chin
“Wow, that is absolutely terrible,” he said with a grin

He ran out the door with me right behind
Santa drunk on Malort was bad for us and bad for mankind
Before he got to the elevator and had a chance to flee
I yelled out, “Someone help! Don’t let him go free!”
Cathi Fremer appeared and took him down with a boom
“What,” she said, “Did you think Troy Polamalu was just a costume?”
“I did,” I said. “But not any more.”
“Geez, man,” said Santa, “I was just trying to score.”

Santa stood up, shook out the cobwebs, and smoothed down his suit
“I’m okay to fly,” he said. “And honestly, this has been a hoot.
On Dustin, on Dan, on Brian-“
“Whoa, hey, as a general rule
You don’t fly interns, Santa, it’s just not cool.”
“Hey Papa Bear, settle down, don’t get so miffed
Old Oak Tap, right? I was just going to give them a lift.”
“Oh-“
“No, I’m kidding, I was totally going to hook ‘em up to the sleigh.
But it’s cool, I understand that shit’s not ok.”
And with that Santa got in the elevator going down
But not before he kicked his heels and turned around
“I hope my meth addiction hasn’t given you too much fright
So, we’re cool, we’re totally cool, we’re tight?”
“Yeah, I guess everything’s alright.”
“Awesome. Happy birthday to Chris Hafner, Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night!”

Video Pam took...

Cadence

the flow or rhythm of events, especially the pattern in which something is experienced: the frenetic cadence of modern life.

So, I'm into the social media. I find it fascinating. I find it time consuming, and perplexing. I find it frustrating and amusing. But mostly I recognize it as an intriguing new art/communication form/forum.

Personally, I know I would do much better on an anti-social network, but that's just me.

'Bah. You kids get out of my bandwidth! Stay off my wall! Don't stand in the feed!'

But I digress.

It's a brave new social world. Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, MySpace, blahster, mehster, etc... And while you probably don't NEED it, social media isn't going anywhere. It's only going to get bigger, and count more.

Social media - regardless of its source/platform - is ultimately an authentic communication. It's something created by YOU for YOU (and/or your network) that represents YOU.

Facebook is the ultimate social network. You friends are on it. Your co-workers are on it. Your clients. Your mom. It's made the web smaller and more manageable. You can surf to any corner of the internet and 'like' something and then easily report back to your friends and family. Further, it's rendered most brand websites obsolete, or as billboards redirecting visitors to its Facebook site.

But on a personal level, Facebook is you. Not from one status update, or two. But as a collection. If you are a fun decent polite human being, you will share your thoughts and digital meanderings accordingly. You will like your friend's posts and you will add colorful commentary. You will share things to their wall - either to their amusement or consternation. On the flip side, if you are compelled to go on about your religion, politics, weight struggles, workouts, family histories, bad moods, sleep cycles, hatred of work, and love of your lol cat/dog/child - you are probably irritating in real life as well. Just as if you are a blowhard who thinks your every passing thought is pure whimsy spun of a brilliant golden hue for everyone to enjoy.

Facebook is not your blog. It is not your journal. It's a well lit place for children. Specifically, it's a community center with all your friends, family, co-workers, and clients. That is, it's a relatively civilized place with people to whom you are familiar. More specifically, it is like a craft fair. Here someone is scrapbooking. There someone is singing a song. Over by the free coffee someone is bragging about their kids. In the corner over there someone is blathering on about current events. In the other corner someone is showing a video about pot belly pigs that skateboard. It's ok to look around, and have a beer - get a little loose. There are a lot of interesting things on display. Some you could probably make yourself, some that are simply amazing. If you wanted to, you could take out photos from your family vacation and put them up for people to see. It's that kind of place. Ultimately, there are many things to share and like.

Twitter is hard to explain. It's sort of like a micro blog, and it's sort of like EVERYTHING. It's a meat market, a coffeeshop, and a pharmacy. It's a closet, a pulpit and a soapbox. It's a news stand and a 'zine. It's the cosmos of email, as well as the very tip of the pin. It's a gentle stream, an avalanche, and a furious thunderstorm.

It is the great void, the bright abyss.

It is the best thing on the internet.

If you want to tweet, you have 140 characters. It's like Haiku. Be succinct. Be precise. Have at it.

But you don't have to tweet to enjoy Twitter. If you are a human being with an interest in something, Twitter is for you. If you want to scream or yell or whisper, and not care if it's heard; if you want access to a celebrity (of any kind); if you want to know why the trains are not running; if you want to cheer/jeer a sporting event/tv show/uprising from anywhere in the world as it happens with thousands of other people; if you want to topple a government - Twitter.

LinkedIn is like a large clean gym for mathaletes - remember to pick up your badge at the front door. It's nerdy and awkward. Maybe it's for schmoozing and rubbing digital elbows with peeps in your industry. I don't really know. The iPhone app is pretty cool, though. It's nicely done - from a very nerdy 'badge at the front door' pov. That said, I don't really understand LinkedIn unless you're looking for a job.

GooglePlus is a weird amalgam of Facebook and Twitter, but it seems much less a public forum and more a bunch of cliques, yet still a public forum. It's weird. It's powerful because it's Google. It's cool because it's Google. But it's weird because it's Google. It's probably ahead of its time. I've not fully embraced G+, but I like it. At least, I appreciate it as a competitor to Facebook.

Foursquare is a GPS social media app. You get points for checking into places. If it's a new place you're checking into, you get extra points and maybe you get a free cup of coffee or appetizer. You compete against your friends to win mayorships and badges (digital). The points themselves are worth less than air miles. I used to 'play' 4sq. But I found myself ALWAYS losing to someone, and beating someone (anyone) wasn't terribly rewarding. And I was becoming even more obsessive-compulsive about using my phone than I already was. So I don't 4sq anymore unless it's when I travel, which is usually to get a free coffee or appetizer.

In short, I'm the mayor of my home and that's fine. That's all I need.

MySpace is for musicians. Flickr is for photographers. Instagram is for iPhoneographers. YouTube is for anyone and everyone with access to a video camera and a short attention span. Tumblr is a theme/meme blog. StumleUpon is ferociously entertaining. Friendster is for... I dont know what Friendster is for. Path seems like it's just for you, as in ONLY you.

Here's the thing about sharing media socially across the internets; all the heavy lifting has been done by these various platforms. You don't need to know css, html5, perl, java, blahblahblah9. You just need online access and the willingness to share. That's it.

Let's say you want to share some vacation pictures. You create an album on Facebook. Fin. You're done. Whether your Great Aunt Gladys has a Mac, a PC, Firefox, Safari, Mozilla, a tablet in iOS or Android, a Samsung, iPhone, or Droid - Facebook knows - and it will display the information accordingly. So if you post Saturday night, and Gladys doesn't see the post until Wednesday morning, she WILL see it. She doesn't have to get you on the phone or wait until the Spring to walk her through it. She doesn't need to ask the neighbor boy over. And she can 'like' it or comment about how much your kid is growing or whatever, and you WILL see it. You might not see it until the following Saturday because you're busy with work and life and everything else, but when you do - you and your Great Aunt Gladys will have a connection. And in modern society where we all get lost in the common routine of days - that's pretty cool.

Smartphones. This is a big part of social media because they offer mobility. Social is mobile. It's alive. It moves, it appears, it shows up, it attends, it records, it checks in.

It posts, it shares.

I love my smartphone... But the 'phone' part is a bit of a misnomer. Yes, I can make a phone call, but these things are mini-computers/cameras. They are extraordinary devices. And they are always with you, usually in your pocket of purse.

I use my iPhone4 like a Swiss Army knife. Sure, it has a compass, can lock in my gps location, and knows the forecast two weeks out - but that's not what I mean. I use it to get the news. I use it to text/email/message my friends and family. I use it to buy diapers from Amazon and a cup of coffee at Starbucks. I use it to post videos of my daughter to Tumblr. I use it post random angry thoughts while at the grocery on Twitter. I use it to share vacation photos on Facebook. I use it for instant creative expression on Instagram.

All that said, spending this much time geeking/learning/sharing/grokking has led to some epiphanies:

Epiphany 1 - Each platform is its own artform. How/what you post on Facebook is not how/what you post on Twitter, etc. People who cross/duplicate the streams appear in my feeds as someone sending out communications from the department of the redundancy department.

Epiphany 2 - Facebook is better than email. I get TONS of useless emails. Well, when I say tons, I mean hundreds a day. Most of them are telling me what to buy and where to buy it. Actually, on some level, almost 94% of my emails are telling me what to buy and where to buy it. 2% is from African royalty asking me to launder money. And the last 4% are emails I care about - family, friends, and work. So Facebook is better because whenever I get a message, it will be from someone I care about.

Epiphany 3 - Twitter is the BOMB. A couple weeks ago, I got off the plane and went to baggage claim. The American Airlines monitors that SHOULD have had the baggage claim info were instead touting the American Airline mobile apps. Ok, great, but where are my bags? So I tweeted exactly that with a picture of the monitors. Within 5 minutes, AA tweeted back asking where I was and that they were going to look into it. WHY? Because Twitter is a public forum, and everyone can see. And don't even get me started about Jenna Jameson...

Epiphany 4 - Social media has created a new kind of social currency - of sorts. Not just how many friends you have or how many followers? But who likes what you say/share? How many? Who shares it and retweets it? How many times? This is all online, of course. You have to be online; either tethered to your computer, or walking the earth with your smartphone. But that's not necessarily true because - what we do online echoes in reality. Or at least it can as people come up to face to face and say things like, "Hey, did you see my tweet?" "Dude, your post was awesome." "Did you see your girlfriend's wall, man? You guys might be done."

Revelation - If nothing else, Facebook is great for wishing/collecting birthday wishes.

I could continue to blather on about social media, but I've already blathered on too much already. Bottom line, social media is the new TV. But you get to program it. Stream it. And produce it.

In short:

Movember Movember

the first of november
begins the month of movember
a day as beardless i cannot remember
when i breathe out from my nose
i can feel it on my chin
it's something only those
can know as my kin
or mo bros as they are called
be they low brows or high brows
ps. except for my eyebrows
i'm pretty much bald

MOVEMBER

I cannot remember the last time I saw my chin, or knew how many I had. (There are two.) Nor my upper lip. (Just one.) It's so weird to see my face, my whole face. I remember it from my childhood, round and fat. The last time I saw it was when I was in college. But I moved to New Orleans after my sophomore year and enrolled at the University of Life (affiliated with the school of Hard Knocks). I grew a goatee then and have not seen my face since.

The goatee is my face anchor. It keeps my nose and eyes from drifting off into a puddle of skin.

I remember the brick of hair that used to sit on top of my head. One day post-college pre-job I was at the 7-ll waiting in line looking into the security cam monitor. The man in front of me had a bald spot. Unconsciously I reached my hand up to the back of my head. What was weird is that the man was did the same thing. In fact he was mirroring my every move.

Oh.

Crap.

That's when I decided I would adopt a new hairstyle, one I've dubbed acceptance. Every few days I shave my head at the number 2 setting; 7 o'clock shadow, if you will.

My wife never knew me with a full head of hair (other than pictures at my parent's house). But that is not by design. It's by DNA. And until last night, she has never known me without facial hair.

Enter Movember.

For the month of November men raise facial hair to raise awareness about illnesses that affect men such as prostate cancer. Friends at work have formed a mustache team, of which I am a member. This is my first year doing it. I am not really sure about the raising money part. But I do have the geekery part down. I have the Movember app, and more importantly the Everyday app.

Last night when my wife and I sat down to watch tv, I knew she hadn't noticed. It's funny what's a big deal to you, other people could care less. Or hardly see if the lights are dimmed. I leaned in against her and kissed her cheek. She still didn't notice. So I did it again and lingered my lips against the back of hand.

"Oh my god, did you do it?"

She reached for the light and stared into my fleshy face.

"You did. Oh my god. Where are you?"

I smiled and ducked my chin down, brought my lips in.

"I know, it's weird," I said.

"No," she said. "It's not weird. Um, ok, it's a little weird. It grows back, right?"

As we sat there watching the clean shaven face of Dexter waxing poetic about his dark passenger, I felt a breeze on my chin - as if there was a draft.

"Do you feel that?" I asked.

"What?"

"Like there's a window open. Is there a window open?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"It's November. There are no windows open. Maybe you're coming down with something."

"No, I'm fine. I don't feel it now."

We continued to watch TV, but I felt the draft again. It seemed to come in gentle rhythmic bursts, as if someone were breathing.

Oh.

Crap.

It was me. Each time I exhaled from my nose I could feel it on my chin.

WEIRD.

Don't get me wrong, I'm as vain as the next guy. I feel naked without my chin jacket. But it's just facial hair. It will grow back. And it's for a good cause.

PS. Now that I think about it, there was one other time I remember seeing myself sans facial hair. It was somewhere in the early 90s. I had graduated from college (yes, I went back and finished) and I was living in Berkeley with S & C in a two bedroom apartment on California St just off University Ave. The Berkeley Hills were on fire. Firetrucks were screaming, black smoke hung in the sky, and it was on every channel. We decided to volunteer, maybe we could help. Before leaving the apartment I shaved everything but a mustache. No, I don't know why I did that, but I remember saying, "Fire purifies. Fire purifies."

And I remember I looked like the construction worker from the Village people, only bald.

So you have that to look forward to...

;-)