I don’t pay attention to fashion. Truthfully, I don’t pay attention to anything—I’m the most unobservant person I know. But I really don’t pay attention to fashion. Clothes, hairstyles, makeup. Ask me about anyone outside of my family and I’ll draw a blank. You say “Kate’s pretty, but she wears too much makeup.” I say “Oh, I never noticed she wears makeup.” Usually, I can’t even remember if someone wears glasses.
In the library where I work, we have three floors: fiction and children’s on the bottom floor, nonfiction on the second floor, the top floor is split between a large community meeting room and staff offices. The librarians who work the circulation desks sit on the first and second floors, everyone else is up top, with me. Back in the old days, when people still went to work, I saw this top floor crowd several times a day—passing in the hallway, hanging out in an open space chatting about weekend plans or a new restaurant, sitting in long meetings together,
On Monday, thinking about people working from home unshaven in their sweat pants and unwashed hair (I might just be talking about myself here), I started to question whether my coworker Brett has a beard. He sits two offices away from me; I see him at least a half dozen times a day. If I’m in a meeting, he’s in it too. I have absolutely no idea if he has a facial hair.
There’s a certain type of guy who wears a mustache. A guy older than me. When I think of mustaches, I think of the Doobie Brothers and Creedence Clearwater Revival. I think of the Vietnam War. I think of Mustangs and Corvettes. I think of men who became adults in the late sixties and early seventies. That’s the crowd who wears a mustache. And then the trend went away. There’s a magic dateline. People born after 1957 don’t have mustaches.
But those people born before ’57? They wear their mustaches to this day. Because I occasionally watch something on TV with my family, I know that a few hipster types are trying to bring back the mustache trend, but not in any meaningful way. Not like 1965.
I don’t spend much time googling around the internet or scrolling through Facebook, so I don’t know if this is correct, but don’t you think there must be a ton of facial hair growing right now? Everyone’s stuck home with nothing to do, skipping showers (again me) and probably too lazy to shave. No reason to look crisp all day, all anyone will see is a tiny, grainy image on Zoom. A few days after the United States shut down, my kids started in on me. “Dad, quit shaving. This is the perfect time to grow a beard.” But I hate beards… on me.
I actually think some people look good with a beard. I’m one of those people. A few years back, I decided to give Noshavember a try. The idea is that for the whole month of November, a man stops shaving. I was still working at the Y then. I typically saw a couple hundred people a day. By the twentieth, compliments were pouring in. “Dude, you grew that in twenty days? Respect!” Salt and pepper, even, thick, it covered my bulbous chin. I loved it, but God how it itched. I felt like scabies burrowed in my face. Everyone said “give it time, that goes away,” but it got worse every day. I shaved off my beard on November 29th.
About a week ago, sporting a three-day scruff, I headed to the bathroom to shave. Susan said “Maybe you should leave the mustache?” She said this to benefit our kids. She’s not so crazy about poky facial hair either. So here I sit. Me and my ten-day-old mustache. No one outside my family has seen it except my in-laws, social distance and all. I’ve been Zooming without a camera. It will be a big surprise when the world reopens for business. The goal is handlebars (again, my kids’ influence), but I can’t see keeping it that long.
“Eli, what’s going to happen if I show up to coach your mountain bike season with a handlebar mustache?”
“Everyone will think you’re a character. They’ll love it.”
Since my early adult years, I swore: No mustache for me! I hate the Doobie Brothers. And I’m not so crazy about Corvettes either. I’m not the right age—when I show up at the emergency room with Covid-19, they’ll accidentally put me in the over sixty-five group.
But then, I think: why not a mustache? Possibly it jibes with my rekindled mountain biker vibe. Maybe Eli’s league needs a character, that guy everyone recognizes from race to race. Maybe I’ll even wind up liking it.
The Other Stuff 
I was just sitting here chin stroking when this came across! Yeah, testament to the beard project. Why not? Time and detachment = more hair.
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I considered growing my hair out too, but then I remembered that I look like Bozo the Clown with my male-pattern baldness when my hair grows more than an inch.
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Ha ha…we could all use more clowns now, always.
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I really like this Jeff! Awesome writing! This part made me laugh “Back in the old days, when people still went to work,…”
Update your avatar pic when you’ve got the handlebars.
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But isn’t it already feeling like ‘the old days?’ The thing I hate most about the pandemic is how long everything takes. Rather than click through this an hour at a time, I want to peak into the future to see what happened (past tense). It will be interesting to see how we think about the old days deep in the new days.
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You’re begging us to beg you for photos of your mustache’s progress…!
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It’s too soon. Like watching a movie before the edits. In another week or so I’ll find an excuse to post a pic.
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Loved this because I and my siblings used to try to get my dad to grow a beard too. Pretty sure he could grow a great one too. Alas, he never has
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I think we used to badger my dad too. He NEVER grew any facial hair at all. I’m not sure he even skips shaving for a day. Both of my brothers have beards right now, so maybe it’s in my genes (maternal).
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I heard beard oil helps with the itchiness but I’m a girl so what do I know! There’s talk of getting the shavers out so I can attempt an actual haircut on my partner… I figure if it goes wrong, there’ll be time to shave it all off and start over! I agree, we want pics of the mustache!!
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I tried the beard products during Noshavember. I’m just too sensitive. The photo is coming when it looks good enough to show off. Right now it looks like a work in progress.
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When my grandfather retired, he swore he would never shave again. A beautiful, soft, salt and pepper beard to match his salt and pepper hair. His hair was coal black (without any products) until he turned 60.
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You go, Jeff! I’m excited to see the “new” you. I guess it will be a surprise for everyone when we all come out of hiding. I wonder who else is going to have changed. Another thing to look forward to!
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You hate the Doobie Brothers?
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Yes, there are a lot of bands from the early 70s I don’t care for. But some I do.
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When I first met my husband back in the 70s, he had a mustache and shoulder-length hair. when our kids saw a photo of him from that era, they thought their dad looked like a porn star! He is clean-shaven now. He was born at the end of 1956. 😀
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Glad he broke free of the mustache destiny. I’m still having fun with mine, and the funniest part is no one has seen it yet. I look forward to shocking people when we start social interacting again.
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Ha! I’m right there with you. That is, I am in full Grizzly Adams mode right now. My wife is grudgingly baring with me. If she weren’t “essential” and here everyday, all day, with me that might be different. I don’t know how much longer it’ll last. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m REALLY good at being lazy. At the same time though, I HATE having a beard. It’s one of the many absurd contradictions that is my life. I’m lazy and hate shaving (my face actually burns like it’s been attacked by fire ants) but I equally hate having a beard (it’s hot and feels like I’ve got cotton candy stickiness all over my face).
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This mustache experience is much better than my last beard experience. It’s been a nice distraction for the quarantine. We’ll see if I keep it when the world opens back up. It’s fairly dark in the middle and very grey on the sides. From a distance, it looks like I’ve got a Hitler thing going on. 😦
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Eeesh! The Hilter thing would force me to shave. Once that suggestion is in my head, I wouldn’t be able to shake it. I’m so suggestible that once when I was growing my hair out a friend said my hair looked like a mullet. Ah hell no! Straight to the barber. I’ll try again later. Ha.
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