The heat wave has its first casualty this year – my beard. I almost made it, but the sweating, ingrown hairs/hidden acne, and the always fun beard hair caught in the cell phone finally made me hit my limit. I think every man has a special fondness for or abject hatred of his facial hair.
First, facial hair is generational. I defy you to find a man, 50-65, that didn’t have a stand alone mustache at some point in his life, if not still rocking it today. I caught the end of the 90210 sideburns, which gave way to the dirty chin grunge goatee. Now the hipster beard is running its course like a wildfire, which is better than the emo “my face is smoother than a girl’s, now help me with my eye shadow” phase I noticed trying to take root a couple years back (not with me, obviously – still rocking the burns).
Every guy tries to grow facial hair too early, thus the “16 hair special”, my name for a middle school mustache where you can literally count every single individual upper lip hair. I had a nice chinstrap beard, but couldn’t connect my stache in college. It was a lovely look, the Abe Lincoln w/ floating mustache island, which quickly became the Abe only.
Ironically, my girlfriend is the most upset by the no beard, which is strange, because 90% of women I have met, dated or even talked to, act like facial hair contact is the equal to being held down and scrubbed to the bone with a rusty Brillo pad. Then again, I haven’t made out with too many dudes lately…well, not ones with beards! (Cue rimshot!) Goodbye, beard – see you next camping trip/extended unemployment stint!