Week Thirty-Three: April 19th

Missouri is also known as the Cave State, a fact known to few outside of the state. I had never heard such word prior to my arrival, thinking the mighty caves of the world lay elsewhere, at some distance from our Midwestern state.

While most caves are in state and local hands, there are a few new ones discovered each year, usually by some adventurous spelunker, or group of high school cronies looking for a new party spot. Perhaps this was on my mind as I took razor in hand this past week; the caves, not the revelry of inebriated high schoolers.

Capturing the craggy formations of stalactites and stalagmites was not as easy as it seemed in the mental image I formed in my head. This left me with pretty much the same look as you see above. I had people inquire about my "tiger stripes," "missing hair streaks," and "bald spots." To me, it looked like the points descending from the ceiling, grown through hundreds of years of dripping water to form soda straws and then centuries more to make the 'tites and 'mites of cave legend. In reality, what most people probably saw was something that looked a bit disheveled. Much like my current crop of hair, long enough to move around on its own, but too short to be tamed by any of my attempts at combing and brushing, the beard had a mind of its own. Perhaps a stiff breeze ruffled the 'tite into a position almost parallel to my chin-bottom, or the 'mite, sagging down toward the cave wall. The point is, it rarely looked as good as it did even in this picture. Sad, but true.

In a few short weeks, my hair will reach Mon-chi-chi status, and be the fuzzy halo-dome crowning my head. Perhaps I will allow the beard t do the same, just to really complete the look.

Or, perhaps not.