Mustache

I had a mustache for the vast majority of my adult life. I first grew it on a trip to Florida in the summer of 1970 with three friends. I was 19 years old. I was not yet physically mature enough to grow a good one. It was better than the average high school mustache, but it was clearly not yet fully developed. I did not intend to grow one, or keep it once I did grow it, but as the weeks went by, I just never shaved it. Finally, after a few months, it had become something of a fixture.

By the mid 70s mustaches were all the rage. A lot of celebrities had mustaches back then. There were Burt Reynolds, Mark Spitz and Tom Selleck, to name three who were known for their mustaches. My mustache probably peaked about then both in color, how it fit my face, and also taking into account the general overall popularity of the mustache.

Wilford Brimley

My 'stache started overpowering my face in the early to mid 80s and so I started trimming the edges every few days, just to keep it under control. Mustaches were still moderately stylish, and I thought mine looked okay.

Somewhere in the early 90s both my scalp and my facial hair started to show flecks of gray. The graying mustache did not look overly attractive. I told myself that if I were really concerned about my appearance, I would have to get a whole new wardrobe. Truth was; I felt that the mustache had become part of my persona. I thought about touching it up with dye but I had seen others do it with less than great results.

By the late 2000s, the old mustache was pretty much entirely gray. Worse, perhaps the most famous mustache still being sported was owned by Wilford Brimley. One Saturday afternoon in 2011 I took a long, hard look in the mirror and decided the time had come. For the first time in 40 years the razor blade did not stop when it crossed the area above my upper lip.

Early that evening Diana, my life companion, got her first look at me without the old mustache. She never said a word. Finally, a few weeks later she was talking about someone who had a mustache "just like yours". She then glanced at my face and noticed I was clean-shaven. "You shaved your mustache!" she proclaimed in shock.

"Yeah," I calmly responded, "three weeks ago."

It's great to be noticed.

Age Appropriate

For the last few years I have been on the the threshold of actual old age, of senior citizenship, at least the early stages of it. This is not a particularly pleasant place to be, but it is an interesting one, in its own way. I have occasionally weighed whether or not to chuck all elements of not just youth, but midlife, and pass through the gates into full advanced maturity. I have contemporaries who have done just that. They are often heard saying, "I'm too old for that" when confronted with activities that require even minimal physical strain. Advanced technologies are for "younger people". They will not even consider participation in a casual volleyball game at the company picnic.

It is not all bad. A senior citizen can aspire for a kind of dignified maturity. Their opinions would receive more regard, or at least seem to. They would be allowed to remain seated in a crowded area when others remain standing. Snow shoveling, and other common drudgeries, would be performed by the neighborhood kid. I get it.      

As of the summer of 2015, I will climb a ladder to clear branches off a roof, and I will slid under a car to change the oil. I have been known to stroll over to the local playground to shoot the basketball, and chase the ball at a jog, when need be. I will take on the newest technologies with the only possible barrier being cost and need.

If I may get philosophical... once a man becomes a social patriarch, there's no going back. It's a one-way journey. Everything is temporary, youth, midlife, life itself, so I might as well fight to keep everything intact for as long as possible. It's an interesting part of life, complete with its own struggles, struggles I never would have dreamed existed when I was in those early stages of life.