Mustache Discrimination? Say it ain’t so…

10 11 2009

Growing up a suburban, self-described middle-class, white guy from just south of Cleveland, Ohio, I have absolutely no first hand knowledge of  “discrimination” (oh, and add young in there, too; young is always a hilarious kicker). Because of this, I have, consequently, learned a lot about myself through the media; I’m the “man”, I get to complain about things only if I’m a comic (See: Dennis Leary) or broadcast perpetual, incendiary rants with the hopes that one day I explode in a blaze of glory anger and saturated fats (See: Rush Limbaugh or Trolls).Donate here!

Woah, woah, made it this far and totally forgot to plug donating…Still undecided about donating?  Look no further; donate to the campaign to rid the world of testicular and prostate cancer right ‘chyeer. ——->

Back to thought at hand (you know, being a suburban, middle-class-esque kinda guy…); kind of, but not really at all, like the Ben Folds song (Ben has never wore a mustache to my knowledge, but “Weird” Al Yankovic, who produced this…err…masterpiece, is an avid, if not religious, supporter of the lip sweater):

So while sporting the ’stache, I thought for sure I’d get at least a wry look or two. I mean with mustache-discrimination running ramped in the media, here and here (special thanks to the American Mustache Institute and their Carl Monday-esque dedication to expose those who trash the ’stache), I thought for sure I’d be thrown to the wolves; a modern day Tom Selleck struggling through the everyday trials and tribulations, and constantly wondering, “Why did I star in ‘Three Men and a Baby’”.

But truth be told, I’ve been embraced by the majority.  You know, primarily by the folks who remember the ’80s / find great solace in how much I look like their dad / think that mustaches are friggin’ hip / can’t get past the fact that they remember Jesus having a mustache (even though, I’m pretty sure he’s most widely regarded as rocking the beard).

I mean with all this love, who could complain?  Well the support has come at a cost, there has been the occasional naysayer, especially amongst the ranks of my 3.5 readers:

From The McDago: “I think everyone will be happy to see that thing go…let me know when you shave it off so I can make a donation in good conscience.”

From Murph: “That’s even creepier than the beard. Never trust a man under 40 with a beard has always been my mantra. Not sure what to think about under 30 with a mustache.”

  • Really, creepier than the beard? I mean seriously?
  • And ageism…crazy, undeniable ageism…

And lastly, from an unnamed and unmentionable source: “I think you kind of look like Handy Andy.”

  • Handy Andy? Who?
  • That either makes me (according to Wikipedia) a comic strip from Britain, a ’20s Will Rogers movie character, or the creator of my own line of children’s carpentry tools. Either way, awesome. But I prefer not to be stereotyped, thank you, kindly.

All in all it’s been a great learning experience; I’ve been pretty impressed by the tolerance my folks at work have shown, but let’s face it, there are so many great Save-A-Lot owners wearing epic mustaches, it’s in their blood.  I’d like to think we have a culture of the ’stache at good ‘ol SAL.

Remember, a mustache is a terrible thing to shave…

Peace,

mjb





Day 3.5 and Typology

4 11 2009

Hey! Have you donated yet? Wait you don’t want to? No worries whatsoever, just thought since we go way back, I mean waaayyyy back, that you might want to throw a buck or two (literally, you can donate only a buck! don’t feel like you got to bring the big guns to this gun show…). Just follow the pointed finger to my page-o-la:

Pointing at the Movember CardClick Here to Donate!

So it’s been a full 3-days (work days) rocking the ‘ol (new) mustache, and already I’ve noticed some major changes in my daily routine / overall outlook on life / reason for being (in my mind, the hierarchy of life while wearing a mustache follows something similar to the aforementioned).

But before I go into daily routine with mustache, I need to work through a few preliminary thoughts, let’s call it a “Preface”…

Let’s face it. When you think of mustaches you probably think of one of three “types”: A.) the Rollie Fingers, B.) the Mario or C.) the dad /grandpa / uncle / other extended-family member (possibly very Hungarian great-grandmother), fire fighter, local constable, accountant or general contractor / landscaper. Although each mustache has its own, independent merits, and subtle inherent flaws, I find the great solace in aligning myself with the “Mustache Cs” of the world.

“Mustache Type A” is the outspoken, confident ’stache that gets rocked by your favorite athlete, anchorman or late-60s / Millennial drummer.  The amount of wax / product used on these mustaches is rivaled only by those visiting the Jersey shore after Labor Day.  These are lip sweaters that supersede practicality for the betterment of creativity (think the Jim Henson of modern-day-puppetry mustache).

“Mustache Type B” is your run of the mill cartoon mustache. Ned Flanders, Mario, Snidley Whiplash, GI Joe, Carl…Well, you get the point. Need I explain more?

Cartoon Staches

Then there’s “Mustache Type C”.  These are the practitioners of the ordinary capable of the mundanely-extraordinary.  Think about it, when is the last time you woke up and felt like a modern-day Cousteau (point of clarification, Jaques did not don a mustache, he relentlessly fought his early B.U.L.D diagnosis…Bare Upper Lip Syndrome; he was the epitome of courage, never letting the early-onset diagnosis hinder his oceanic exploration), ready to jump your pickup truck over a car carrier in order to rescue a distressed madam or wounded bald eagle?  That’s what a mustache grants you:  an unrelenting will to do good and imagine, figuratively. Yes, today’s mustache was typically grown to emulate John Paul Jones (the bassist and revolutionary, not the pirate) and Tom Sellek, or to make some cheesy-ass jokes at inopportune times, but, today’s mustache is as American as stock car racing and jet lag. My mustache puts me in the ranks of the everyday guys; the guys who are your neighbors, friends and occasional drinking buddies.  We are the modern-day jack-of-all-trades; the poet mixed with jackhammer; the romantic mixed with Crusader.

I find great solace in the occasional head nod from my mustached-brethren; from both those who wear now and those who wore before me, the understanding that derives from wearing a mustache is as universal as the sky is blue.

More tomorrow…

Peace,

mjb

(Special thanks to the American Mustache Institute for the coining and clarification of B.U.L.D, a disorder that affects millions of Americans every year)





The One Where He Talks About The ‘Stache

2 11 2009

Hiatus over.

Throw out poetry; throw out marketing and social media talks; throw out political opinion; throw out uneducated discourse on all that is beer and infomercials…it all goes out the window for the betterment of humanity, right now.

Today, I embark on one of the most fulfilling journeys a young, post-Vatican II, professional can ever dream of, a task albeit strange and slightly erratic, but simple and pure. Today, I join the ranks of mustached-American.

So why now?

Well, the better question is: Why did it take so long?  For the most part, I’ve been in the fraternity of the beard-wearer for the last 3-years.  I’ve always loved having a beard. It keeps your face warm, it hides your ever aging double-chin one Double Cheeseburger at a time, it makes you look about + or – 5 years older/younger depending on what you’re going for and it always makes people think, “wow, that guy has an uncanny resemblance to (insert Billy Mays, Dom Deluise, Al Borland, *ehem*, Richard Karn here). Sometimes the subtle stroke of the beard is all you need to solve world hunger, or at least make others in the room feel like you just might…

But, assumed intelligence through pondering aside, the mustache was always calling my name.

Yesterday just so happened to be November 1st, and yes, All-Saints Day amongst the Christian-contingent.  You would assume with all the bearded saints (seriously, Google saints, they all had beards, except Saint Michael, go figure…) that the beard would be brought to light throughout the month.  Nothing could be farther from the truth though as yesterday marks the the start of an annual push to raise awareness and money for testicular and prostate cancer.  November 1st is the start of Movember (a charity that benefits Lance Armstrong’s Livestrong Foundation and the Prostate Cancer Foundation) and has no religious affiliation whatsoever (to my limited knowledge).

Movember Logo

I’m going to chronicle my experiences sans beard, plus mustache this month.  I fully intend to be mistaken for Brad Pitt from Inglorious Basterds or Jeff Foxworthy from I Can’t Believe that Guy Is Still Employed, or more realistically somewhere in between.

By the way, you may notice that Movember calls for one to start clean-shaven and grow and maintain the misplaced eye-brow throughout the month.  I decided to circumvent this stage in the process for fear of not recognizing myself in the mirror this morning and proceeding to punch glass.  I instead woke up this morning and saw a sultry lip-sweater. It’s going to be a good month.

You can check out my Mo Space page here: Matt Biegacki’s Donation Page And be sure to drop a buck or two, if you got it…

Matt Biegacki w/. Stache

Peace.

mjb





Adventures in “As Seen on TV”: Himalayan Chinese Flower Tea

5 05 2009

This one is simply jaw-dropping.  I think I smell this year’s “Snuggie”.  If this year’s snuggie was some cryptic plot to overthrow the world’s democratic nations and provide enlightenment to all:

Highlights of this clip:

  • There are no highlights in this clip; just pure feelings of uneasiness.  The same uneasiness Cleveland Browns fans have about the 1986 AFC Championship Game.

An uneasy Peace,

mjb





Adventures in “As Seen on TV”: The Loud ‘n Clear

3 05 2009

For your viewing pleasure:

Highlights of this clip:

  • 2-for-1: In-case you want to go stereo.
  • “He’s new to the building!”: Fish, meet barrel.
  • “Hear wildlife before it hears you!”: KABOOM! (no, not a Billy Mays product)

Peace.

mjb