Week Forty-Two: July 4th to 10th

Thursday morning began normally enough, but the hazards of Camp reared their ugly heads that afternoon during a ferocious round of Camp Bingo. It concluded with me slicing portions of hair off my face and appearing during that evening's sing-along and parent performance as Jafar, or some updated and infinitely more twisted version of him.

The binder clip was my late-night addition, and mostly so the extended chin hairs would not spend the night traveling toward (and into) my mouth. I forgot about the clip and slept with it on. It proved to be so comfortable that I wore it all the next morning during breakfast and our morning hike as we bade the kids farewell. Then I wore it during that morning's run and as I biked home. By that time it was all-but fused to the hairs on my chin, as I had applied liberal amounts of sculpting gel in a vain attempt to mold my chin hair into that classic Jafar wave.

Once home it was time for a little more trimming which, of course, I took the time to document, as you will see below:

I enjoy this one, and debated keeping it for the next week. The twisty 'stache and gigantic chops were a nice Gangs of New York look. Bill the Butcher I was not.... This photo does give you a good sense of the uneven growth on the opposite sides of my face. I did nothing to trim the burns or the beard until this day, and that really is how much longer the right side was than the left.

Of course, I wanted to see what it looked like with only one massive 'burn and the look did not disappoint.

I thought I would keep this sweet 'stache for the week, waxing the tips and turning the next few days into a handlebar showcase. Maybe that just exceeded the limits of my creepiness because, in the end, as you will see below, that did not happen.

He's got his whole beard, in his hand....

So there it is, the first time I have seen my full face in over nine months. An odd sight, to say the least. Someone who saw me later that day told me I "shaved twenty years off my face." Another wondered "where the rest of (me) went." People at my usual haunts--the Library and Produce Stand, hardly recognized me. I hardly recognize myself.

It was a good run while it lasted, but it was time for a change and time to give my facial follicles a break. Until next time...keep growing!

Week Forty-One: June 27th to July 3rd

In the waning weeks of The Beard it is probably fortuitous that I work at ZooCamp, where the odd is acceptable, if not expected.

What you see here, the second consecutive week in which I tested the flexibility of my chin hair and facial skin by stringing things onto my beard, is my Camp version of Jack Sparrow.

People were actually surprised that this was the first time I had put on guy-liner. It shouldn't be all that surprising...after all, everything else I have done up to this point has been completely normal, right? And if you are wondering, yes, that is a mop atop my dome. The sanity of wearing this for what followed (an hour-long singing and dancing marathon to get the kids fired up for our Camp overnight, and give parents a glimpse of the Camp craziness) is debatable. I do know I had to take the entire thing home to wash it. That yellow shirt was transparent enough with my sweat that you could see chest hair. How exciting! (Though maybe not for everyone involved in the areas outside my shirt.)

These are the waning weeks of The Beard, which is why you will see a photo of it in its nine-month form at the bottom of this post. It has been quite a journey, much like giving birth to a growth on my face, though that was not my intention. As the Summer turns toward July, I would never be able to endure the sweat-mopping aspects of the massive beard any longer. Next week, there will be some cuts.

As it winds down, and grows larger, people have less fear about asking me strange questions. At Sports Authority this week to buy new running shoes, one of the cashiers asked me "how long it took to grow my face." Good one, as it was one I had not yet heard. The folks in the Education Department at the Zoo apparently know me as "The Fierce Beard," which is exciting in its own way. Maybe I will send them the beard in a bag, atop the hair I shaved off my head earlier this Summer.

One of the men working at the Library in town yesterday told me I looked like Tolstoy. That was a new one. The good folks at blogspot will not allow me to copy pictures I do not own into their pages, so the intriguing images I discovered of Tolstoy himself will not appear here. However, if you seek a diversion one day, check out any Tolstoy images and see for yourself...

...separated at birth?