Ironic Beard

June 23, 2014

Greetings from the hirsutest,

About seventy miles from my driveway there is a section of forest that is dotted with secret compounds, which sometimes are occupied with militia groups who are hiding from the gummint.  They stockpile food and ammo and give speeches to each other about illegal taxation and the second amendment. 

Those guys have beards.

In the sixties, the last decade I was not able to grow a beard, it was common for young men to rebel against authority, and one of the freak flags they flew was the length of their hair, and of course, beards.  Hippy dudes wore peace symbols and tie-dyed shirts and hemp sandals and round wire rimmed glasses.  They chanted at sit-ins and kept on trucking.  A few of them stayed in that era and you see them working at health food stores, setting up chairs at ERA rallies, or creating abstract art out of welded scrap metal.

Those guys have beards.

Moonshiners.  Hillbillies.  Gator hunters.  Motorcycle gangs.  ZZ Top. Tattoo Artists. Lumberjacks.   Roadies.

Those guys have beards.

Last year the Boston Red Sox cranked through a winning season and took the World Series title.  Some people claim that this was because of the mojo that was created by the fact that the team did not shave for the entire season, and all the players sported beefy beards.  Beards on steroids.  Food trapping, braidable, ‘there’s a sparrow nest in here’, kind of beards.

I don’t know if the Red Sox championship was the start of the trend, or perhaps the popularity of ‘Duck Dynasty’, but somehow the whisker pendulum has swung from the near-civilized to the near-Neanderthal.

Now it seems everyone has a beard, which is confusing and a little discouraging.  You can’t make stereotypical generalizations as easily.  Now how am I supposed to make fun of people I don’t understand?

Beards have always been a part of the male style expression, but not since the turn of the century, and I mean the turn before we landed on the moon, have so many been so hairy. 

For some time, the Stylish Ones who grace GQ have toyed with beards.  The goatee.  The Van Dyke.  The soul patch.  The hipster muttonchops. The unshaven but tailored look; slightly rakish, but still presentable.

But now, for no apparent reason, the well turned out male is presenting facial topiary. Something Grizzly Adams would be proud of.  It is what the trendsetters call ‘the ironic beard’.   Well, if it’s ironic, then of course I want one.

I have the raw materials for this.  My beard grows so fast I am practically ironic as I sit here writing this, which I am sure sensitive readers have noticed.  But, one of the challenges for me is that I shave my head, sort of a defensive, pre-emptive strike against balding.  So shaving my head while growing a beard seems off the charts on the ironic scale.

I am conflicted.  On the one hand, I certainly want to keep up with the latest style.  However, this seems like one of those fashion pranks, like cargo pants or the mullet.  I’m afraid in five years I’ll be looking at pictures of myself and think ‘Oh yeah.  That was the year that I looked like a beard wearing a bowling ball.”

There was a time when men grew beards because they had no choice.  There was probably some practicality, keeping our faces protected from frost or saber tooth bees, perhaps.  It is possible that in the Pleistocene era that beards were the only way to tell men from women.  Unless women had beards then too.  Now that would be ironic.

So once the razor was invented, and we started walking upright so we could look in the bathroom mirror, then shaving became a realistic option. 

I like to think that this is the evolution we were intended for.  God allowed us to discover fire so we could rule the world and roast marshmallows.  He allowed us to discover the Shick Hydro 5 razor so that we could beat back the stubble and appear more sincere.

If we feel the need to be ironic, we can watch Seinfeld reruns.

Hope this finds you getting chin pie,

David

Copyright © 2014 David Smith