If these are the primary endeavors in which I seek success in life - making coffee and running on dirt - then it follows that I ought to do what the best do. And though there are exceptions (as in the first picture), a good swath of facial scruff seems to predict some measure of talent in both.
So I said, earlier this week, when I vowed to make a legitimate attempt at growing something. Well, I'm backing down from that challenge. Call me a quitter if you like, but sometimes, I think you just have to be honest. It's not happening for me. I look like a 14-year-old who has just discovered that, unlike the rest of his classmates, he has to shave. And so he won't, precisely to make that point. In junior high, maybe you can get away with that. But not in college, and certainly not post-grad.
Then I'll be brief. O happy razor! This is my face; there shave, and let me live. (5,000 points to anyone who gets the reference.)
Good beards are all about patience. All good beards start out as embarrasing face dirt before filling out and transforming into total awesomeness. Believe me, I was a doubter. It's the same with long hair. There is an initial embarassing 2 week period where all looks futile, then 2 weeks later, just about the time you decide enough is enough and grab the scissors, suddenly it's doable. Even attractive. Then 2 weeks later it's back to the head's equivalent of a shag rug. Then 2 more weeks and it's Krupicka-sweet yet again. Rinse and repeat. The beard follows a similar tragectory before it goes from Roes gross face turf to Krupicka's lion-like chin mane and then enters into squirrel eater backwoodsman territory. Again...it's all about patience...and suffering through those initiation periods. Good luck...if you should try it again!
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