The Other Archives - My Beard

[Written in the early fall of 2002. Posted because, a.) Some people still haven't seen my legendary beard, and b.) I told Heather I had written reasons for the beard, and she asked me to share.]

I haven't seen Dana since I left Manhattan. It was strange, then, to see her waiting for my bus on the first week of school.

I was downtown, next to the library, waiting for a 50 or 16 to take me to campus. The girl looked very much like Dana - especially the lips - and I found myself staring at her a little too much.

She sat one seat in front of me on the bus, an opportunity I took to stare at her a lot more. I miss Dana. I should talk to Dana sometime. I need to get her number in Dallas.

The bus stopped at the west bank and continued over the Washington Ave. Bridge. "Dana" laughed when she saw the shoe tree to our right. (The shoe tree is a tree that has a lot of shoes in it. The shoes' laces are tied to one another, and then they are draped like ornaments in the tree. I have no idea who does this and why it is done.) She turned her neck, allowing herself to see the tree for the maximum amount of time, and our eyes met while she was smiling, mouth slightly open. After making eye contact she stopped smiling and faced forward.

I was probably frowning. I'm always frowning. Mom used to always say I frown while I read - it probably applies to when I'm staring at chicks, too. Or buying groceries. Or whatever. I'm such a sour little fucker. Why can't I just have a slight smile on my face when it's apparent the girl I'm staring at on the bus is going to see me?

Maybe it wasn't the frowning. Maybe it was my beard.

* * *

If I were to guess what the most commonly asked question is, I'd say, "What's up?" Lately, however, it has been, "What's up with the beard?" Below are my reasons for growing a beard.

In the movie (presumably the book) Fight Club, there's a line: "How much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight? I don't want to die without any scars." I don't want to die without having grown a beard. Why not grow a beard?

After all, that scene in The Royal Tenenbaums with Richie cutting off his huge beard is a pretty neat one, set to Elliott Smith music, and Richie is a pretty cool character...

I've always wanted to come home after an absence changed. I really wanted to experience coming home to friend and family and hearing them say how much muscle I've gained. "You look a lot bigger," they'd say. "Wow. You look hot," the ladies would say. I've accepted the fact that I don't have the drive, and possibly don't have the metabolism, to gain a lot of muscle through weightlifting. So, instead of the bodybuilding thing, I'm accomplishing the dream with a beard. It will not be nearly as cool, and people will just say, "A beard? Why?" but whatever.

Finally, I was pretty sure that I shouldn't date anyone for a while. It seems like I don't know exactly what I want, and until I figure out what to go after I should have some sort of assurance that I can't hook up with a lady that isn't the best lady around. A wild, unruly beard was just the thing.



[Thanks to Pick for the hardware to scan this photo. Note the sliding door in the background - you might remember that door and that apartment from last summer in Oklahoma.]