It’s the season for magnificent man manes

Derrick Knutson

Derrick Knutson

As I’m typing this column, occasionally looking down at my keyboard, there’s something that’s starting to become ever more visible on the periphery of my vision.

It’s the hair growing on my upper lip.

Normally, I don’t let my facial hair get long enough to be visible to myself without a mirror, but I thought I’d give No Shave November a shot this year.

I’ve got a buddy who is doing it right now, and he currently looks like Wolverine from the “X-Men” movies, so I figured I couldn’t look much worse if I let the grooming go for a while.

I’m not sure when No Shave November – or Movember, for those who think they look debonair with a mustache – started, but it’s all for a good cause: raising awareness and funds for cancers that affect men.

Those who participate are supposed to donate what they normally would spend on facial grooming for a month to the American Cancer Society, which can be easily done at www.no-shavenovember.com.

Admittedly, I’m a tad lazy about shaving — I usually only do it about once a week in non-no-shave months, so I probably spend about $5 on razors and shaving cream a month, but I’ll donate more than that to the cause.

I have to say, though, I’m excited for Dec. 1 so I can lop off this magnificent man mane.

I don’t mind rockin’ the beard, but I like all of the individual hairs to be at approximately the same length, which requires some grooming.

I’m not really sure why, but it seems like some of the hairs on my face are growing at a rapid pace, while others are taking their sweet time.

In some areas, the longer ones will curl over, while the shorter ones stick straight out, as if part of my face was selectively electrified.

In another couple of days, I imagine I’ll have to use some hair gel to keep the unruly ones down.

I briefly considered growing just the mustache, but I don’t think I could pull off that look.

I’d just laugh all the time.

I’d be in the middle of an interview or at a school board meeting or something, and I’d think, “Oh man, I look bad with this mustache.”

Subsequently, I’d burst out into laughter, and whomever I was talking to at the time would likely think I’m insane.

In an attempt to explain my inappropriate laughter, I’d tell them, “It’s the mustache!”

My interviewee would then probably call the cops.

The police would briefly consider bringing me to jail, but after comparing mustaches with the responding officers, they’d let me go.

Actually, after thinking about the mustache in that light, maybe I should shave off the rest of the hair and have just the lip jacket.

It might get me out of a speeding ticket or two.

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