Rebearded/Debearded

Facial hair rocks.  Okay... not really, but I was hoping to start this off on a positive note. 

My journey to beardedness began at the end of last July.  It was just after my wife's birthday.  Why after?  Two reasons really.  First, I threw her a surprise party in mid-July with a lot of friends and family... many of whom had known me for 20, 30 even 40-plus years of non-bearded glory.  I didn't think it would be an appropriate time to debut a new "look".  It was "her day" after all.  Grizzly Bossart had no business upstaging the guest of honor.  Second, right after her birthday I had scheduled a small dermatological procedure that would address a couple of skin tags that resided on my left cheek.  Nothing major, just a little clean up.  My thinking was that if I could distract the casual viewer with a God-awful goatee or something, they would laugh about that instead of any small scars on my face.  There's a subtle majesty to my logic, don't worry if it alludes you.

...and his best friend Bear

Luckily, growing a beard is fairly easy for me.  I typically have a 5 o'clock shadow around 10:30 in the morning.  After a shave-free, three day weekend I'm well on my way to auditioning for the next season of Duck Dynasty.  Plus, I REALLY hate to shave.  I have extremely sensitive skin.  The more often I take razor to chin, the more I look like I face-planted off my bike on the way to school.  Besides... I'm pretty sure in my hirsute history, I've only had two really good shaves.  Neither of which occurred in the last 15 years.

But anyway... I decided to give my beard a go.  The picture that graces the "about me" section of this blog was taken early in the growing process.   Even though it in no way represents what I normally look like, it wasn't awful... so I went with it.  Plus, there were some unforeseen benefits to the beard.  First, I noticed that my "kiss hello" acquaintances were less likely to greet me with their lips with this anemic skunk growing on my face (score one for the beard).  Second, I noticed that I don't have much of a chin.  Somehow I had missed that over the last four decades.  But there was something about how my beard grew that gave me the appearance of a well-chinned individual.  How manly is that?  Third, I've been told the beard gave me the countenance of a "pissed off English professor".  That's better than putting in the endless years of college and the requisite hard work... right?   

look ma, no chin

Well, my first foray into beard-dom lasted all the way through Christmas.  Then, all was hacked away in time for the new year.  I had a clean face again.  I looked younger, cleaner.  For the first two months of 2013, I continued to shave regularly (and poorly) as per my custom.  I was happy the beard was gone.  It was a fun thing to do, but I was over it.  No more beard.  Ever!

Any-hoo... that brings us to today.  As you've probably guessed, I've been re-growing the beard over the past few weeks.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe I like it.  Maybe I miss my phantom chin.  Who knows.  What I do know is that it's itching like crazy and as soon as I post this blog, I'll probably run screaming back to the bathroom and shave.  Such is life.