Monday, November 9, 2009

In Pursuit of Hirsute

I'm not sure if any of you fine readers are aware of late Autumn/early Winter on the West Coast of Canaderrr, but baby, it's cold outside. And not the cold that you can really dress against. This is the insidious moist cold that wriggles its way between your bazillion layers of clothing and magically penetrates down to your sinew and bones.

There, now I've set the scene of yesterday afternoon. Sure, the sun was out (kinda) and mocking us from its spot up in the solar system - fat lot of good it did way up there. Down on the ground, I was on my way to my niece's soccer game.

OUTSIDE.

[This should earn me not only your admiration at my fortitude and commitment, but also a truckload of karmic credit. I did not want to be there. I do not really like soccer. But I am crazy about my niece. So I go.]

As I approached the field, I had to call my son to ask where he was; I had scoured the crowds on both sides of the field (from the pleasant comfort of my car) and could not find him. It is such very bad form when you ensconce yourself amongst the opposing team's family and friends and start berating the referee for not calling more penalties against the goon-ish hermaphrodites playing against your niece.

Very bad form. Trust me on this one.

It turned out that he was right in front of me, along with my brother-in-law. I didn't notice them, as they were hunkered down so far in their lawnchairs, they appeared to be the height of toddlers.

Walking up behind them, my son turned around to say hi. Then, my brother-in-law.

"Yarrrrgh!" I screeched. [*please note that this is not a usual family greeting nor something charmingly regional].

"What the hell happened to your beard and moustache???" [*note: this was me asking him, not the other way around. This is a usual family greeting...}

In the entire 27 years I've known him, this is the first time I've ever seen my outlaw without any facial hair. He usually has a moustache/goatee or moustache/beard combo.

Now he's just beginning to sprout it back.

"Whateth uppeth with the baby 'stash?" I queried.

"It's Mo-vember", said Monsiuer Hairless.

"Ohhhhh! Of course. Mo-vember. And just what is that, again? Some 3 Stooges thing?"

It turns out that Mo-vember is fun little campaign to raise money for Prostate Cancer.

Originally started as a beer-fuelled challenge between some Australian buddies, Movember has mushroomed into a significant fundraiser. Men either clean their facial slate and begin again from scratch, or start to grow where nary a follicle grew before. It's a time to get in touch with one's Magnum PI or Fu Manchu. Or maybe Rolly Fingers. Or that cranky dude from American Chopper.

The clever thing about going this route with fundraising is that it can't but help start a dialogue. There's the shock value of seeing those who rocked the beard start afresh, and the curiousity about those who would usually never choose to 'mo' up. It's a little less startling than head-shaving, and maybe a little more edgy. Oh, and ladies? It's a guy thing. Except for you , Chaz Bono.

To quote the article that I read about it today, "Men will want to be you and women will want to be with you." I have to admit, promises like that sound pretty attractive to me. Rahwr. . .

Gentlemen, I urge you to drop the razor, have some fun & preen away for a good cause:

For more information on Mo-vember or to register and participate, go here:
ca.movember.com (canada)

us.movember.com (united states)

10 comments:

tysdaddy said...

I had a friend who did this last year and posted pictures on his blog. Me? I can't grow facial hair in any way, shape, or form that would be presentable in even the most casual of situations. So I'll participate in spirit . . .

Mental P Mama said...

What a wonderful thing to do! I bet I could even participate;)

Chesapeake Bay Woman said...

If they are trying to encourage the hair, wouldn't a better name be Growvember? Movember reminds me of mowing which makes me think of cutting grass, which makes me think of screaming.

I'm thinking a lot can be done with the name of She's a Ho-vember too. Especially right on the heels of Halloween and costumes going on sale half off and all.

Or Ho-Ho-Hovember, where the men drink beer until their cheeks are rosy red and eat nachos until their bellies bounce when they laugh like a bowl full of jelly.

Sorry - it's Monday and I'm delerious, but i do love coming here to laugh at the end of a very long day. Thank you for that.

wv = skingon, which is a condition that results from shaving your facial hair with a dull razor. Ask me how I know.

Shelley said...

Count Cheeky: So, your little blogger/FB avatar is not a reasonable facsimile? Too bad about that - you could have won the competition!! Joining in spirit is just as meaningful.

Countess Mama: Is your name Chaz? I think not. There are various others ways to participate - see CBW's suggestions below...

Countess CBW: I have it on my "ToDo" list to investigate what diseases might benefit from the non-shaving of my legs - I would be ALL over THAT Growvember. It is winter after all; time to bulk up for the cold ahead.

And then I could donate my shearing to 'Locks of Love' at the end of the month.

Ditch your job, hon - you and I are about to start our own non-profit agency.

(WV: Bucks. As in - no doe for Mo' - just bucks.)(I dunno - I'm delirious, too, but I think mine might be intercranial bleeding from the headstands we did yesterday in yoga).

Shel said...

So what are the chances my mo' and beard will grow back with less gray and more black? (Hey that rhymes!) (Another bro-in-law)

Anonymous said...

I just peed my pants out of happiness.

I was partially a part of one of your blog posts!!!!!

Let me give you a little idea about how this went:
Me, opening up your blog and giving it a read.
Me, smiling from ear to ear as I'm having a read.
Me, running down the stairs to tell m and d.
Me, printing it out so mom and read, and dad reading it on the computer.

OH HAPPY DAY.

MRMacrum said...

Your surprise at seeing the naked chin of you brother in law reminds me of what my 3 year old daughter went through when I shaved back in 1986. She would not come near me for several days. I thought it was just the unfamiliarity - she had always known me as the fuzzy faced guy who tickled her relentlessly. Then I happened upon a mirror and actually looked long enough to see what looked back. I immediately began the arduous task of replacing the beard I had had for over ten years.

I have shaved once since then and again came up with the same conclusion. My mug needs to be covered up for the sake of the children and other innocents.

Anyway, I have stopped by a few times and lurked. Figured I should at least leave something behind this time. How could I resist a post about beards and other manly stuff?

Cormac Brown said...

Hmmm, something that is literally near and dear to me, as there's always something goofy going on in that neck of my woods. Yet, get rid of i baffi just when it is reaching 70's pron-stache thickness? Such a dilemma...

Shelley said...

Count Shel: I make no promises - you'll just have to try it and see. There's $20 in it for you if you do.

Countess Schmee: You are so adorable! I love that I get to see the you that so many others don't.

Count MRMacrum: 'For the sake of children and other innocents'...Wise decision; mass hysteria never does anyone any good.

Thank you for stopping by! I'll try to entice you back with posts about other manly pursuits. Power tools? Log rolling? Or how about quiche-making? I think I need to do some more research...

Count Cormac: That IS a dilemma. Perhaps you could have your artistic spouse rend in for eternity in one of those plaster castings. Then you can enshrine it and hope for the day when it regains its lush awesomeness...

well read hostess said...

I offered to participate in No Shave November here at the high school where I worked, but the students turned me down...maybe they were afraid I'd try to show them the evidence that I hadn't shaved??

 
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