My Friend The Beard
Does food ever get stuck in there? Hell yes. As my roommates and girlfriend can confirm, food becomes stuck on a daily basis. Almost any food can become stuck—cereal, string cheese, cheddar cheese, nacho cheese, breadcrumbs, stew—but the worst food to eat with a beard is a bagel and cream cheese. No matter how careful I am, I will inevitably have to spend five minutes wiping smear from my face after ever bite.
Why did you grow a beard in the first place? This is actually the most frequently asked question I receive and it is the difficult to answer. It makes me think of my favorite quotes about beards by John Steinbeck, found in Cannery Row. He says,
“But, then a man with a beard, ordering a beer milk shake in a town where he wasn’t known—they might call the police. A man with a beard was always a little suspect anyway. You couldn’t say you wore a beard because you liked a beard. People didn’t like you for telling the truth. You had to say you had a scar so you couldn’t shave.”
I can’t tell people that I just like having a beard. That doesn’t seem to satisfy. Is it because I am lazy and just don’t like to shave? That might be part of it, but I don’t think it is the whole reason. Part of me thinks that I grow the beard because other people can’t, because I like sucking Gatorade from my upper lip on a hot summer day, because people can spot me from across campus, because high school friends have trouble recognizing me when I come home for Christmas. But, I think the best answer to that question has something to do with a memory I have of my father. I remember being a kid and hugging my father’s neck and feeling his sandpaper skin against my round cheeks and I remember the smell of an occasional beer on his breath when he would say “Night Bud,” before shutting off the light and closing my bedroom door. It is an odd thing, but growing hair on my face makes me feel like a little like him, like I have in at least one way become a man, that I can anything I want.
Also, it gives me the excuse to use the word beard-tivity in a sentence.
Posted on June 16, 2008 12:00 AM
Comments
My favorite beard-tivity is to, with my tongue, grab the whiskers on the corner of my mouth and pull them between my lips to chew on. Gross isn't it?
My least favorite part about beardom is when my wife says she feels like she is kissing her dad. Gross isn't it?
Posted by: Rob | June 16, 2008 8:43 PM
What about the beard-druff on the front of your shirt. Ive tried head and shoulders but it doesnt seem to do the trick. Rob, i think all the bearded ones chew on them. One more question, how long do they have to be to be proclaimed "whiskers"?
I am reminded of a George Carlin bit about beards and how they scare people ex. "Lenin had a beard" then he made a poem:
See my beard ?
Aint it weird?
Dont be skeered?
Just a beard.
Good things people! Good Things!
Posted by: jed | June 17, 2008 1:45 PM
Having a beard is indeed glorious. I'm in education, and I don't get mistaken for a student any more. I'm also in a band, and I think the beard adds a distinguished look, like I must have been through a lot more stuff and these songs I've written must be that much more heartfelt. One drawback--sometimes my wife says that it feels prickly, though only occasionally. I've grown the soul patch part a little longer, and that seems to take care of that (for those of my bearded brethren who have experienced the same thing). Good article--keep the beard going, bro.
Posted by: Matt Wheeler | June 18, 2008 10:10 AM
Jed- Your beard-druff sounds a little weird, I'm sorry. I do not experience dry skin of the chin and therefor do not experience flakyness on the front of my shirt. But I suppose you're on the right track, if I were in that situation I would be sure to condition my beard well, perhaps I would even go as far as massaging lotion into my cheeks.
As for the whiskers...No length required. As long as they provide, as they do for a cat, a sense of balance (this can pertain to your general life and daily activities, not actual balance) then I think you can call them whiskers.
This has been a pleasure, friends. Perhaps we can start an HBO series called Band of (bearded)Brothers.
Posted by: Rob | June 20, 2008 10:05 AM
Oddly enough I find myself relating to some of your points as a wearer of Converse All Stars--the instant camaraderie with fellow-wearers, occasional looks of vague suspicion.
Although I don't think I've ever had to wipe cream cheese off them.
Posted by: L | June 20, 2008 10:21 PM
@Jed: Hydro-Cortisone (cream - NOT ointment) once or twice a week for the beard-druff.
Great article, Mike.
Posted by: Jeremy Clark | June 24, 2008 1:15 PM
Ah, the power of the beard! I'm 20, and even more satisfying than being called, "sir" at a restaurant is being respected as a full-blown fellow man at an auto repair/auto parts shop. That is the power of the beard.
Posted by: Mat | July 1, 2008 10:01 AM
I understand your plight when it comes to being mistaken for an extremist. I have my beard (tenderly called Magnanimous by friends and family) in my most recent driver's license photo. Everytime I show it, I'm accosted for being One of Them. Usually it is in a joking way, but nonetheless it is on their minds. So keep on keeping on, brother and don't shave the beast for nothing.
Posted by: Jake Williams | July 28, 2008 3:55 PM