Lockdown 25 – The Beard
In lockdown I decided to do what every other man is doing and see what type of beard I could grow. I’ve let it grow for about a week before, then my wife called in her lawyers and I was forced to shave it off.
Now, I’ve got nowhere to go and no one to see, I’ve decided to give it another go. So I’ve put together this post which will form part of a presentation I will give to my wife later.
I was going to start with an undeniable fact and some boasting. Something about the beard being the last bastion of manliness. That might be a bit much for an intro, but let’s go with it. Then hit her with some history.
For example, the Egyptians loved a well-oiled beard. They dyed them, platted them, made them stick out like handles – even female pharaohs had them. In India they were signs of wisdom. Knights wore them as a badge of honour. Touch a man’s beard unbidden in The Middle Ages and you’d be lying by the big oak at dawn impaled on your own blade.
Darwin, who had an impressive thatch, has an excellent theory I was going to use. It sounds sciency which is always impressive. He called it negative frequency dependency. Here’s the theory. As I’ve said, the beard is a thing of beauty, especially to women (subliminal message). Unfortunately, the more men who have them, the less women like them. But then again when beards become scarce, women like them again.
So, my darling, my sweetness, don’t follow the crowd, take a step into the great unknown. Embrace the beard.
Wife: ‘What a load of …’
But there’s more good news. Lab-coated specialists have been fiddling with their test tubes. And discovered our bald-chinned friends are harbourers of disease.
The act of shaving causes tiny abrasions in the skin which may support horrid bacterial colonization and proliferation. How dare they show their pink cheeks in public?
Even better, a beard could contain microbes that kill nasty bacteria. Don’t worry, I was a little queasy at first, but microbes are everywhere so it’s best to have the good ones. Your antibacterial chin fuzz could be used against meningitis or scarlet fever or a thousand other bacterial infections.
I was thinking I’ll grind my beard into an unction and send it over to Coronavirus labs, because I’m that sort of selfless guy.
Wife: ‘No you’re…’
Who can remember a decent king without a beard? What about the strength of a Viking? The kindness of Santa? Abraham Lincoln’s chin curtain, Shakespeare’s balbo, Dickens’ disobedient goatee – these are things of beauty.
In conclusion, my sweetness, I’m not going to shave for two weeks and see what happens, is that okay my vision of loveliness?
Wife: ‘In that case, my big hunk of beardy manliness, I would be overjoyed to see that scrumptious fuzz everyday.’
That worked well.
This is how I’m hoping it’s going to go: