Recently, I made a special trip up to Evergreen Cemetery in Leominster, Massachusetts to see the grave of Joseph Palmer, a veteran of the War of 1812 and a member of the short-lived Utopian community “the Fruitlands”. I’m not much of a history buff, so why would I drive halfway across the state to seek out the grave of a man who died a century before I was born? It was too interesting of a story not to investigate.

The “Crime”

He was described as a kind and tolerant man, but life was not easy for Joseph Palmer after he moved to Fitchburg, Massachusetts in 1830. People would openly insult him, throw rocks at him, regularly break the windows of his home, and even cross the street so as not to be near him when he passed by. Even though he was deeply religious man who regularly attended church services, Palmer was publicly denounced during sermons by his pastor, Rev. George Trask, and even refused communion.

What awful thing had this small town butcher done to warrant such persecution? Joseph Palmer’s crime was that he was the only citizen in Fitchburg, Massachusetts who chose to wear a full beard, which (contrary to my vision of the 1800’s being a beard grower’s paradise) had been out of fashion in the United States since the time of the Pilgrims.

It’s getting up on spring folks, and you know what that means: my five month old beard is getting closer and closer to it’s annual shearing. While contemplating what fate holds for my poor beard this year, I decided to see just how many of the beard types that I could personally check off from my Chart of Facial Hair Types.

I really thought that I had nothing left but a Mr. T style beard / Mohawk combo, so I was surprised (and a little disappointed) to find that I still have a ways to go before I will be wandering the streets pitying fools.

If you want to check out all nineteen (out of thirty-four) of my recorded facial hair types, head on over to my newly dedicated Beard Type Quest Page.

Then, come back and let me know if you have a favorite from years past or if there’s a beard type that you’d like to see added this year.

UNGH.

We’ve reached the end of MaBeGroMo, gents, and that means it’s decision time. You are free to take a picture of your beard and return to the Roman ideal, or you can continue on your quest to becoming a MaBeGroMo Champion.

If you’re ready to return to beardlessness, there’s no shame in turning back now. You made it a month, and you have reason to be proud. You went against the grain and did something for yourself. You now have a good idea about how your beard grows (or doesn’t) and you’ve become a member of the beard club. Thanks for joining in and we’ll hopefully see you next winter for the next round.

For those of you who aren’t ready to get rid of the beard just yet, you’ve made a good choice. The winter is still far from over and you’ll appreciate your protected jowls when Cold Miser is throwing piles of snow at you during the next few months.

Remember: making it to February 14 will earn you the title of “MaBeGroMo Champion”, if you are looking for something to put on your resume.

Good luck everyone. Happy bearding.

More information about beards can be found on my beard page.

National Beard Growing Month is officially over, gents. You made it a month, and you now know that good feeling that comes with intentionally growing a beard. Congratulations to all of you who made it!

You now stand at a crossroads. Do you continue another 30 days into your beard growing quest and take part in MaBeGroMo, or do you give up and return to civilization?

If you’re on the fence, encouragement can be found on my beard page. I’ll be out back wrestling bears if you need me.

I feel like I’m cheating you out of music reviews every time I use a music Friday for a non-review post, but it’s a holiday week and I couldn’t pass this up. I have to give credit to Toria for sending this along and getting it stuck in my head.

Beard, No Beard, Beard Beard, Mooostache.

Beard, No Beard

We all need to thank BeardPick for sending in this video of himself with 2,000 toothpicks stuck in his beard. He beats Payton, the 1600 toothpick guy (also featured below) by 25%. Who’s stepping up for the next 400?

You will not be surprised to find out that BeardPick is in IT and undertook this death-defying stunt to entertain his co-workers. I think my favorite thing about the IT crowd is the strange things they do to entertain each other.

2,000 Toothpicks

1,600 Toothpicks

Ah, November. As the weather turns cold and we begin our journey into winter, men in the Northern Hemisphere begin their annual adventure into beardedness in what has been known as “November Beard Club” or “National Beard Growing Month”.

To participate, you simply stop shaving during the month of November. When December arrives, you can either shave or continue on your beard growing journey by taking part in MabeGroMo, the Macho Beard Growing Month.

If you’ve never grown a beard before, now is the time to start. If you need encouragement, check out my newly built beards page, which has a FAQ to get you past your excuses, and all the beard shaving picture stories from years past. It even includes 2007’s beard shaving adventure which has never been available before today.

Happy beardthday, Beard. You are four months old today, and despite twelve or so weeks of practice, I still have no idea how to comb you properly.

People may say that you’re starting to get bit unruly, but I say you’re just developing a personality all your own. And that personality is a cross between a homeless drifter, a pirate, and that guy who lives in the woods with a bear named Ben. Sure, your testosterone driven existence might be repellent to most modern sophisticates like #1GF!, but there are those women out there who grew up hot for Mr. Chuck Norris, and you roundhouse kick them right to the heart. They might be as difficult to find as an R in a Bostonian conversation, but if those ladies got within fifty feet of you, you would drag them in like a magnet.

But, despite all your macho wonder, Beard, we have to get some things out in the open. It’s been sixteen weeks and there has been mounting pressure from #1GF! to push you out the door. And on a couple of those random warm days we’ve had, I will admit that my lack of a seaworthy gallion may have briefly lured me into considering her point of view. You know how much I like having you around, but I have to admit that the evidence is being slowly stacked against you. #1GF! has figured out that answering questions on shaving by yelling “Isaac Hayes!” or “Mr. T!” are just diversionary jibber jabber, and I’m doubtful that she will even consider validating your usefulness as a pen storage device. While talking like I’m a character from the 1800’s seems to make her laugh, I don’t think it can carry us much further. Our only remaining hope may be the unrelenting New England weather.

You know as well as I do that this time of year in New England, the weather is as tricky as a crack addicted spider monkey. One minute it’s dancing for pennies, and the next it’s jumping on your back trying to cram it’s monkey parts where they would be most unnatural. Last week, we had a 50 degree day. This week, it’s 9 degrees with a big enough wind chill to give you an ice cream headache. No loving woman would send their man out in the cold without a jacket just because it’s not fashionable, right? Climate beats fashion, even if it is a Kobra Kai sweatshirt, Freezy Freakies, or a beard.

So, even though I may have run out of ideas with which to defend you, you should be safe at least until Spring. And lucky for you, in New England, Spring usually starts in May, and we call it Summer.

Happy Beardthday!

Because I grow a beard every winter to fight off the New England winter, last month my Mom sent me an article from the Boston Globe about the Beardophilic folks over at the Bearduary.

As I read the article, I found myself thinking it was perfect compliment to MaBeGroMo, my annual beard proliferation event. With National Beard Growing month running in November, MaBeGroMo Basic running in December, and the MaBeGromo Extended Champion period claiming up to Valentine’s Day, there were still a few Winter days yet unclaimed.

The Bearduary filled that gap and put a lock on the winter by claiming both January and February for beardophiles everywhere.

I e-mailed them, and they threw my big, ugly head up on their site.

I’m not kidding.

Go look: www.bearduary.com

In my haste to avoid any actual writing by cramming this blog full of crappy video links, I failed to mention a few things recently…

One: MABeGroMo

I failed to mention the start of MaBeGroMo on December 1. I started on November 7th to beat the holiday rush. Like women synching their menstrual cycles, Team Beardo at work started around the same time without discussion or provocation. My beard is now two months old. How’s yours?

After 4 months of culturing a beard that hung almost 3 inches off of my chin, the winter beard has finally been shorn. Although my dumb-ass head looks top-heavy and weird, I currently look 5 years younger. There are no pictures of the process due to both a broken camera and complete lack of imagination.

Until next November, try to stay off my youthful jock.

Dear young lady,
As cute as you thought that plaid mini skirt and high-heeled black boots looked when you put them on this morning, they might not have been the best choice for corporate work wear. Unless you are Brittney Spears or work at an establishment where most of the work is done around a pole, people are just not going to take you seriously. Most likely, they’re going to spend most of the time that you’re talking concerned with how many dudes you plan on squeezing into your lunch time gang bang.

Dear mustache man,
As cool as you thought that beret looked when you walked out of the house this morning, it might not have been the best choice for wearing to work. Unless you are in the special forces or work at the Paris Casino in Las Vegas, people are just not going to take you seriously. Most likely they’re going to spend the time you’re talking concerned with how many dudes you plan on squeezing into your lunch time gang bang.

(I don’t know how I have the audacity to critique other people’s fashion choices when my 4 month old, insan-o beard could easily net me $50 a day panhandling at the train station.)

The standard MaBaGroMo competition is officially over. If you made it to this point, pat yourself on the back. You have not only endured the itches and ridicule, but you have officially earned the title of “MaBeGroMo Participant.” I can tell by that look in your eye that you’re itching to embroider your new title under the big skull that you’re thinking about putting on the back of your leather jacket once you cut the sleeves off.

It seems like a good idea, but hold off a month. If you join me further on this journey (which I encourage because winter has barely even started), you may be bestowed further titles. Be warned: Additional titles may come at the cost of a permanent attraction to all things flannel.

Pencils down. Submit pictures now.

While finishing up my Xmas shopping this weekend, I found out that a MaBeGroMo beard combined with a pair of BlueBlocker style sunglasses really creates a sort of 70’s Serpico-style creepy cop look. Throw in a 3/4 length brown leather jacket and you are free to drive your Nova through as many box filled alleys as you can find.

Switch it up to a ringer T, or just about anything that they’re selling in Old Navy these days and it’s a Meatballs camp counsellor on the marijuana cigarettes.

The beard is versatile. Is anyone else having as much fun with their beard as I am, or are you to busy huddling with those deer carcasses?

You now officially have two days left to make your decision to get that beard started, if you haven’t already. To Grow, or not to grow: That is the question.

Fire the “before” pictures to me and I’ll put them up on Dec. 1 so that your better halves can have a reminder of what a fucking great looking guy you used to be when they’re in need of a break from your testosterone-fueled, hair-covered MaBeGroMo madness.

Who knows? By Christmas, that “before” picture may just save your relationship. If it doesn’t, you’ll always have that deer carcass to keep you warm.

So, I’m reading a post over at GeeseAplenty about how Greg is a little sick of the whole NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) obsession that has reared it’s head once again this year. While I find myself indifferently shrugging over whether someone should should take a stab at writing a book in a month or obsessing about it on their personal virtual homestead, I did agree with him whole-heartedly on one point:

NaNoWriMo sounds like a big, fat pain in the ass.

This of course got me thinking. What about people like me to whom procrastination is more of a lifestyle than a character flaw? How the hell could I write a book in a month? My gaming would suffer, my blogging would suffer, my PVR would fill up, and Netflix would raise prices to cover the money they spent on tech support specialists to figure out why my queue had suddenly and completely stalled. And what would I end up with after paying the hefty 5000 word per day entrance fee? The rewards just don’t seem like they’d exactly outweigh the effort.

This is not to say that I don’t yearn to belong to a stupidly named club for jerks, too. Not writing a book shouldn’t stop me. That’s just discrimination. And when you discriminate, you make an ass out of you and me. Or something like that.

So, for the less industrious among us who don’t feel that it’s too much to want results that at least match the effort that went in, I’m shunning NaNoWriMo and starting my own month. My month will allow people to be part of something, give them a visible reward, and won’t require anything near 5000 words per day to complete.

So, to everyone reading, I’m officially declaring December to be MaBeGroMo (Macho Beard Growing Month).

The rules are simple (even for us).

MaBeGroMo Rules

Rule 1: At some point between now and December 1, you take a “before” picture of yourself and put your razor away.
Rule 2: At some point after December 31, you take an “after” picture of yourself, and decide whether to reunite with your razor or renew your short-term contract with your newly found friend. You may then claim the title of “MaBeGroMo Member”
Rule 3: If you make it to February 14, you have beaten the extended challenge and can rightfully claim the title of “MaBeGroMo Champion.”
Rule 4: If you make it past February 14, step out of the Home Depot, put down the deer carcass, and shower well before signing up for several internet “dating” services. This is just a suggestion.

You’re thinking about it. I can see it. I’ve taken the liberty of answering some of your presented concerns to give you the encouragement to get started in The Beard FAQ. Good luck.

Today, when I went in for the first haircut since before Christmas, my barber cut my hair from it’s 3 inch hippie length down to its normal half inch. Unfortunately for me, he also ran the clippers from my jowls right up into my hairline to even my beard with my hair. The three and a half months of savage growth that I had amassed since November 2, 2004, was wiped down to three weeks of growth in a matter of seconds.

Once the sideburns were really short, there was no other choice but to even the whole thing out so that I wouldn’t look like a half shaved moron going back to work. Now, the bottom half of my face looks strange and naked. My chin now looks entirely too small, and my nose entirely too big.

As a result of this unforeseen mishap, there will be no “Shaving 103″ addition to the site this year.

My fingers miss my beard. And I am tired of winter. And I hate reality TV.

I have a beard and it’s getting long. I need an ax and some flannel. No, wait. I need a motorcycle T shirt, a chain wallet, and some toothless bikini tramps. Nono. A big boat with a submarine and some free love brainiac scientist tramps. Hold it. A computer, 40 more pounds of fat, a Dungeons and Dragons 20 sided die and some halfling tramps. Wait. A tie dye, a shotgun, and taste for hippy blood. Scratch that. A double wide, a mullet, a Lurlene, a Betty Jo Ann, a spot on cops, and a prenuptial agreement. F that, too. A cabin and a bear named Ben. Eh. An axe and an ox named Babe. Pfft. A P coat, a stocking cap, and a gaff I lost because the sea was angry that day, my friend. Angry. Aye. That’s the one. Arrrrrr.

(Please send help.)