Fuzzy Wuzzy
Bless the subconscious. It takes care of business and lets you forget about it, until your conscious brain pays attention and you get a small laugh and a little larger appreciation about how this great big machine works.
Earlier today, and for the second time this month, I shaved off what might eventually have been an actual beard — but instead reached only the point of what I call the Dave Grohl-inspired “Chinstrap Plus!“, which is basically a goatee and sideburns with whatever other hair decides to grow in within the miniscule timeframe between conception and the realization that an unfull beard makes its wearer look like a joker.
It wasn’t until I was lathering on the shaving cream that I realized what month it is: November!
You see, there’s this thing called the November Beard Club. Two friends of mine turned me on to it two years ago. In ‘03, I was in my first year of grad school in English, so I felt justified in offending people with my facial hair just as they must have felt in offending me with their obnoxiousness and lack of deference to anything but their own inflated egos. In ‘04, the beard was going strong until the middle of the month, when my sister was about to get married and I thought I’d better clean up good. With great jubilation, I shaved and was able to celebrate hairlessly — if not carelessly.
This year I didn’t pay attention to the whole phenomenon. Too much up in the air to concentrate on that one thing. But my subconscious had a handle on it, and grew out the beard anyway.
If our brains are at all similar, share in the revelation that the brain knows what to do. For goodness’ sake, let it. Enjoy the show.
For more of my insights on facial hair, check out this entry. Right-o.
2 Comments »
November 27th, 2005 at 11:03 pm
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear,
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair,
Fuzzy Wuzzy Wuzzn’t very
Fuzzy, Wuzzy?
November 28th, 2005 at 4:36 pm
Definitely not. Poor bear.