"Wearing a beard is like getting punched in the face with a soft hug, all day long."

posted via http://mckinleybryson.tumblr.com/

As the countdown to the homebirth closes in (7 weeks as of this post until the little one arrives!) In addition to all of the other decisions that need to be made along with an impending homebirth, I am trying to decide whether to commit to being a beardo. I say commit, because I would never want to put my son what I went through when I saw my fathers shaved face for the first time after 24 years of beardome.

His reasoning for shaving was that, at 55, he felt the gray in his beard made him look older. I guess that's a forgivable vanity, and one that's existence is indicative of the growing parity of grooming pressures between men and women.



Beards are political! Who would Che, or Fidel, or Lenon, or Marx, or Frida be without their beards and/or mustaches? Who would Rush Limbaugh or Dick Cheney or Jack Bauer, or Glenn Beck be if they had beards? Growing facial hair has been used for political ends for as long as famous socialists have been socializing and famous conservatives have been bitching about it on television and the radio. One contemporary example of facial hair being used for good is the Movember campaign, an effort to grow 'stache for cash to fight prostate cancer which has been championed on the #DadsTalking conversation currently gathering steam on twitter.

Beardom has always been an inextricable part of what it means to be a man, and is even mentioned in the bible, along with a bunch of other crazy shit about boats, and bears and whales, and lions, and where not to put your penis (spoiler alert: your step-mother) and under what circumstances it is acceptable to throw rocks at someone until they are dead (see: Holy Bible). Just kidding. There is nothing about bears. A beard is like a rorschach. Where some people see affable hippie, someone else will see Charlie Manson and someone else will see a religious fanatic. A beard is also like getting punched in the face with a soft hug, all day long. For me, a beard is that scratchy feeling on the top of your head when you cuddle up with your dad in a big chair to listen to Prairie Home Companion in front of the wood stove, and i'm keeping it.