OK, this post is like Seinfeld, it’s about nothing. There’s no music, you don’t have to create playlist based on letters, there’s no pictures, no questions to answer, there’s really nothing more that a couple of minutes of my usual meaningless blather.
Sometime, right about now, there’s an important date at hand for my beard. I’m not sure what caused this revelation but it’s very close to it’s 50th birthday. For 50 years now it’s been there every morning when I’ve been forced to look at myself in the mirror. The only change has been from brown to gray to white though there were a couple of short episodes when I let it get a bit excessive but I didn’t really like the Z Z Top look.
It all started in 1964 when I was a student at a Southern California university, I was enrolled in a design class where the instructor was a total asshole, he was ex-military, clean shaven with a crewcut, the whole redneck image, but that wasn’t the worst, he was constantly making comments about ‘the god damned, long haired, bearded hippies’, ‘faggots’, and the VietNam war resistors and other assorted ‘communists’, all groups that I felt an affinity towards. So I decided to initiate my one man campaign by letting my hair grow and quitting shaving, he didn’t like it at all and made regular comments about me that were supposed to be funny. I remember that I used to go to the ‘Barber College’, to get cheap haircuts, I quit in 1964 and have not had a haircut since, my hair seems to have found it’s natural length and it never goes beyond that.
But it became a way of life for me, I’d never enjoyed shaving so that was a positive and long hair became the fashion so for once I was with the ‘in crowd’. It’s not something that I’ve thought about at all, in fact I’m quite curious what prompted me to start scribbling this.
So, Happy Birthday beard. it’s been nice having you around.