Saturday, March 12, 2005
Gone
I'm taking my picture down from the blog today because it is no longer an accurate reflection of me.
Males have this odd vanity thing about facial hair. We love to look at ourselves every morning and take in the sights which include this oddly shaped hair thing on the wrong side of our head and believe that we are a true gift to the visual landscape of the world.
Some men, the very lucky ones (listen up, Ed), have beards that grow at 100 mm per second and cover every last centimeter of their cheeks, lips and chin. For them, beards are works of art to be conceived, grown and shaped - a hirsute topiary fantasy world in which to wander and then emerge with a decidedly manly visage. Men so endowed give off testosterone just by breathing hard.
Most of us cannot claim such a genetic blessing. When we attempt to grow the "great beard", what comes out is patchy/dull/the wrong color/or (heaven forbid) silly looking. Refusing to believe what we see before us in the mirror, we continue on and grow that beard/moustache/goatee and spend many months or years thinking about how dashing we are with this badge of male secondary sexual characteristics clinging to our face.
Like many things in our lives, men tend to personify their relationship to their facial hair. We pet it. We talk to it. Some of us give it names.
"Feels soft today"....."Should I trim it this morning?"....."There you go, now you look better."
******
I've made this particular journey three times in my life. In college I had the most ridiculous goatee one can imagine. The hair on my upper lip refused to grow until I was about thirty, so about 30 hairs were in my moustache, and my chin beard was bright red against my brown hair. I thought it was wonderful (it was 1969 - you can guess what I was up to).
The next salvo was in graduate school. I grew a full beard then. Same problem with upper lip, same color, very curly and I refused to trim it very much. I even began to teach at the music conservatory that way. Very professorial in those days. After I got married I decided to shave it one Sunday afternoon. As I stepped out of the bathroom my 13 yr old step daughter saw me and screamed. She thought I was someone else.
******
And there is the root of why many men grow beards. We can change identity. Some men look so altered when they shave that people treat them differently. It's like taking on a whole persona, or hiding behind a mask. Women can't duplicate the transition with a change of hairdo.
******
So I'm getting my hair cut today and I announce to the man who is cutting my hair that I am bored with my moustache and - - - it's gone. After three years I'm not really that attached to it, and besides, it was too light to notice for most people. He said all of the appropriate things: "You look much younger now!" "It was so hard to trim."
I'm waiting to see how long it takes my family to notice. I'm betting sometime tomorrow.
Males have this odd vanity thing about facial hair. We love to look at ourselves every morning and take in the sights which include this oddly shaped hair thing on the wrong side of our head and believe that we are a true gift to the visual landscape of the world.
Some men, the very lucky ones (listen up, Ed), have beards that grow at 100 mm per second and cover every last centimeter of their cheeks, lips and chin. For them, beards are works of art to be conceived, grown and shaped - a hirsute topiary fantasy world in which to wander and then emerge with a decidedly manly visage. Men so endowed give off testosterone just by breathing hard.
Most of us cannot claim such a genetic blessing. When we attempt to grow the "great beard", what comes out is patchy/dull/the wrong color/or (heaven forbid) silly looking. Refusing to believe what we see before us in the mirror, we continue on and grow that beard/moustache/goatee and spend many months or years thinking about how dashing we are with this badge of male secondary sexual characteristics clinging to our face.
Like many things in our lives, men tend to personify their relationship to their facial hair. We pet it. We talk to it. Some of us give it names.
"Feels soft today"....."Should I trim it this morning?"....."There you go, now you look better."
******
I've made this particular journey three times in my life. In college I had the most ridiculous goatee one can imagine. The hair on my upper lip refused to grow until I was about thirty, so about 30 hairs were in my moustache, and my chin beard was bright red against my brown hair. I thought it was wonderful (it was 1969 - you can guess what I was up to).
The next salvo was in graduate school. I grew a full beard then. Same problem with upper lip, same color, very curly and I refused to trim it very much. I even began to teach at the music conservatory that way. Very professorial in those days. After I got married I decided to shave it one Sunday afternoon. As I stepped out of the bathroom my 13 yr old step daughter saw me and screamed. She thought I was someone else.
******
And there is the root of why many men grow beards. We can change identity. Some men look so altered when they shave that people treat them differently. It's like taking on a whole persona, or hiding behind a mask. Women can't duplicate the transition with a change of hairdo.
******
So I'm getting my hair cut today and I announce to the man who is cutting my hair that I am bored with my moustache and - - - it's gone. After three years I'm not really that attached to it, and besides, it was too light to notice for most people. He said all of the appropriate things: "You look much younger now!" "It was so hard to trim."
I'm waiting to see how long it takes my family to notice. I'm betting sometime tomorrow.
# posted by Michael Christopher : 11:13 PM
Furl It