I started to look like a caveman. My razors idled, my shaving motivation suffers during splendid isolation. Facial hair isn’t unusual for me, in fact, there is church directory photographic evidence of my great mustache faux pas of ‘85.
Because I often grow one each winter, having a beard usually feels natural to me. Starting with changing leaves, I put down the razor and let it go, trim a little, oil to keep it soft and enjoy the winter beard brotherhood, but I was not growing fond of it now. Each time I accidentally touched my face, it felt like November, and that rubbed me wrong.
Having a spring beard is like putting your t-shirt on backwards. You can do it, but you something just ain’t right. People laugh at your laziness and scoff at your scruff.
In an inspirational moment after an infrequent this spring shower, I decided to embark on a creative facial hair experiment. Since a simple goatee wouldn’t fit occasion and normally fun Fu Manchu is tainted by a currently popular tv tiger series, I decide I’d get more complicated….behold, the WuFlu Manchu.
This is not for the feint of heart, nor for the short on time. Getting the pattern right is no small feat and requires a several sharp instruments and calm hands. Fear of filleting my face be damned as I lather up a badger hair brush, in a hand me down Old Spice shaving mug. Stuck inside, I enjoy making the WuFlu Manchu a diversion from watching the world not go by.
I’m hoping my hair salon opens before I grow weary of my longer than usual mop.