Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Spring time means so much to all of us, and one of the things it means to me is that it's time to shave my beard. My wife is very pleased.
I started growing it as Calli was being born. I'd taken a week off and was able to get through the scruffy stage without looking like a hobo at work. Turned out, I liked it, and a lot of friends did too. At Christmas, two cousins – both young males – kept petting it. When I said “Wow, that was...tender,” it stopped. Nothing like adolescent homophobia to get them to keep their hands to themselves.
But before the shave, I had to address my main reason for growing the beard: I needed to do my Super Pretentious Writers Photo! Once I shaved my chin and saw myself with mutton chops, I was struck with just how awesome they truly were. I knew I had to work at least one shift like that.
Who'd have thought that my half-shaved face would bring so many people such joy! I was a hit, and asides from a few who weren't too fussed with them, most thought that they were the coolest thing they'd seen all day! Then I remembered that I still needed to have my picture taken for the Safety Committee. Now, my chops will be displayed in the break room for as long as I'm on the SC. Huzzah! The high-light was when I checked my Facebook news page. A friend on vacation (some of you know her as Belbin9) was responding to a message from someone else from work, saying “Will got chops? I don't understand.” I'm sorry she wasn't there to see it.
Oddly, only one person asked me about it; most people pretended not to notice that I was sporting big-assed mutton chops. I'd get little smirks from customers, but they mostly acted as though I wasn't the first person they'd seen in a generation groomed like a 19th century gentleman. I am certain, though, that many of them will go home and say “You'll never guess what I saw today...” On Saturday, Andrea had her best friend, mother, and two aunts over. Not a single comment, not even a double-take. I was crest-fallen. On Sunday I was running an errand, and again, no one blinked.
I think that for my next shave, I'll leave on some big-assed Elvis side burns. I already have the big-assed Elvis gut.