Dean Whitbread 2020
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My current Shakespearean throwback guise is purely for my own entertainment. I don’t actually care whether having this or that shaped beard enhances my appearance, or makes me look like an old git/unemployed college lecturer/cool musician/dodgy priest.
This morning’s show was a distinct and bright red hair which I spotted as I peered into the mirror about three minutes after waking. These red ‘heritage hairs’ sprout only in such purity from my face, nowhere else. I am quite proud of them. After four months, I have mixed feelings about my beard. I grow a beard periodically, partly because I don’t have to worry about shaving, and worrying about my appearance, partly because I enjoy the fun of having a new appearance which I can play with. Women buy shoes and handbags, men grow beards and moustaches. However once in place, the beard requires management, which completely destroys the time-saving part of not shaving. Instead of ignoring my appearance (good for the ego) I start to obsess about it (bad for the ego) – to the point where mid-TV show I will jump up to go look in the mirror to check exactly WHAT this particular hair is doing and whether it should be trimmed, or worse, plucked. When I pull a hair, I am ruthless almost to the point of minor self-harm. I have been known to make summary execution decisions on single hairs on the bus, and, gripped firmly between my guitarist’s fingernails, dispatch them there and then. Strangers look oddly at me as I begin to sneeze unstoppably or produce disturbing facial wounds the extent of which is only revealed when I return home to look in the mirror. Not looking in the mirror doesn’t work either, as I start to chew the hairs around my mouth, biting off the ends in a primitive, caveman-without-technology way. Then I suddenly realise I have been only chewing one side, so start to chew the other in order to balance it out. I particularly don’t like the feeling that I have transformed into a krill-eating whale, with long straggling hair over my top lip catching food. Yet, I dislike this narcissism so much that I’m looking forward to shaving it all off in the near future. But then, I like stubble least of all. I need a reason to stay smooth, and that reason can only be one thing – kissing. Kissing is good, and much more interesting than the shape, colour or length of my facial hair. If I was kissing, I’d more than likely return to clean chops because sexy lips are unencumbered lips. Unless I find someone who is more interested in my beard than I am; which could be good, or it could be very bad indeed.Posted via email from Dean Whitbread
This thing has 5 Comments
Depends on what they want your beard for. I agree that unhinderd lips are very kissable. Kissing should last for several hours so a beard would be really rough. The thought of you chewing one side leaving it lopsided makes quite a vivid image. Not as much as a seriously chapped face from snogging nonstop for two hours would though. I always wonder about men with those ultra-long 'staches that could actually strain things. That could be handy if a fly parachuted into your tea. Course you could do like I do when a small annoying gnat landed in my skim milk I tried to help it out but it kept escaping me so I drank it. I held the milk/gnat mixture in my mouth long enough to swish it vigorously from side to side THEN I swallowed it. HA.. Worked for me!
and this from the woman who coined the phrase: Texas – proof of insanity
Insane? Moi? I beg to differ oh King of the Loonies. I remember a certain story you told me several years ago about finding a decapitated wasp head that was still alive so you gave it a stern lecture about not being so damn scary not to mention the fact that it wasn't your fault it was in that unpleasant situation. lol… Still, somehow being a Texas loony doesn't sound nearly as normal as being from Britain and being a loony. All my favorite loonies are from Britain. My favourites, the entire Monty Python troupe, Rik (with a silent P) Myall, Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers, Yourself, Margaret Thatcher, Eddie Izzard just to name a few.
I really loved this nuanced slant of our human condition.
Kwiz — a former roommate and surrogate brother of mine and I have a verbal short hand about facial hair. “This is one of those facial hair conversations” means, I love and support you friend, but you're trippin — time to turn your gaze outward for a few minutes.
And yes. Kissing is much more interesting than most things and one of those things I really miss in my current pursuit of self-actualization. There was something to be said for those days when I was a swollen-lipped train derailment.
Thank you.. I love the image – “swollen-lipped train derailment” – I will take that one with me 😡