Beards

Here’s my beard
Ain’t it weird.
Don’t be sceered,
It’s just my beard.

 

That was from George Carlin’s Class Clown album. You know, the one with the seven dirty words you can’t say on TV. It’s funny what sticks in the mind of a 10 year old. I do remember all seven words, I remember lines to movies that other people don’t remember even existing, I even remember athletic accomplishments on the playground when I was in second grade. But sometimes I get up from my desk, walk down the hall and forget where I was going. When that happens it’s best to just go to the restroom and check the printer on the way back.

But I digress. I was talking about beards. I’ve had this one for three weeks now, which is about as long as I’m usually able to stand having one. How does Santa do it? The thing drives me crazy every time I touch it, and when I go to bed at night, it feels like somebody put velcro on my pillow. I’m sure Chuck Norris doesn’t complain about scratchy beard hair, but I’ve never claimed to be as tough as him. Maybe beards get softer as they get longer, but I don’t think I’ll ever find out. It’s time to start reshaping and reducing.

The other problem with the beard is that you can really see the gray hair. The one blessing about going bald was that most of the gray stuff fell out, but the chin hairs are pretty strong, I don’t think those are going to fall out any time soon. I’m sure gravity has something to do with this. Maybe if I stood on my head for a while…

On the other hand, it’s kind of fun to have hair options again (long, goatee, mustache, Mr. T). And I think I look more scholarly this way. If I can’t baffle them with brilliance, I’ll bamboozle them with beardedness.

Nah, let’s get back to reshaping and reducing…

 

The standard Goatee

I’ve done that before. How about…

 

Mutton Chops?

Too colonial. Maybe something tougher…

 

Long stache.

Very American Chopper, but I’m not tough enough to pull that off.

 

The standard

I can’t decide if I look more “Village People” or fireman. But either way, that’s got to go too. I’m tired of wearing my dinner on my face. People with facial hair must eat everything through a straw. It’s back to normal for me now. Hello razor.