Recently I grew a beard. I had often wondered what I would look like with facial fur and now I had the opportunity to find out. It was actually very easy to do - you just closed your eyes tight shut, puffed out your cheeks and WILLED the hairs to grow. Admittedly at first I kept passing out but I think I got the hang of it.
I discovered that there were phases to beard growth: starting with the 6 O'clock shadow, progressing through designer stubble, complete with itching and scratching, and on to the unkept "my wife's just left me and I don't know how to use the oven" look. Finally you get enough growth to sieve soup and catch crumbs. My sense of touch became heightened and I enjoyed the breath of a breeze as it passed my cheeks - but this time on my face. I wondered whether any particular types of food would aid the process - spaghetti for instance.
So after a few weeks how was it? I found the act of running my finger tips through the bristles quite therapeutic - better a chin stroker than a chain smoker. I started to believe that I looked distinguished and kind of intellectual, but that was all academic. Friends and family tactfully declined to pass comment on the rainbow range of coloured whiskers, from reddish-brown to black then grey and even patches of white! Perhaps I should've tried doing this years ago.
But duty called and I shaved it off ahead of a job interview - "employers don't like beards" I was reliably informed. I argued that it was actually forward career planning for Father Christmas work later in the year, but like a boy teenager, it didn't wash.
"You look so much younger now" was the typical reaction to the facial hair loss. "You could pass for 38" offered one source close to the family. I know she meant well. Now my face feels soft and smooth and the male grooming kit cleaned and packed away.
Oh, and I didn't get the job so I might start straining again.
great blog sir.
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