Confessions of a Pogonophile & The Birth of Beard Man or Why Someone Needs to Give Me a Freakin' Job!
- From the dashing Donegal (think Abe Lincoln) to the gorgeous Garibaldi (think Giuseppe) there are many different types and styles of beard. My personal favorite? The neck beard, as sported by the sexy Thoreau below:
- Facial hair growth is stimulated by dihydrotestosterone, which ironically, also promotes balding.
- Pogonophobia is the fear of beards.
- The ancient Greeks, who commonly curled their beards with tongs, saw beards as a sign of virility.
- In ancient India, a long beard was a sign of wisdom. The punishment for adultery? Public beard chopping.
Hymn by A. R. Ammons
I know if I find you I will have to leave the earth
and go on out
over the sea marshes and the brant in bays
and over the hills of tall hickory
and over the crater lakes and canyons
and on up through the spheres of diminishing air
past the blackset noctilucent clouds
where one wants to stop and look
way past all the light diffusions and bombardments
up farther than the loss of sight
into the unseasonal undifferentiated empty stark
And I know if I find you I will have to stay with the earth
inspecting with thin tools and ground eyes
trusting the microvilli sporangia and simplest
and praying for a nerve cell
with all the soul of my chemical reactions
and going right on down where the eye sees only traces
You are everywhere partial and entire
You are on the inside of everything and on the outside
I walk down the path down the hill where the sweetgum
has begun to ooze spring sap at the cut
and I see how the bark cracks and winds like no other bark
chasmal to my ant-soul running up and down
and if I find you I must go out deep into your
and if I find you I must stay here with the separate leaves
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream.
As you may have read in a previous post, Jason and I challenged ourselves to go vegan for the month of November in honor of it being World Vegan Month and citing environmental reasons, blah, blah, blah. I really was determined to do it. Well, let me tell you, we failed. We failed miserably. The reason?
CHEESE. Meat? Forget about it. Milk in its fresher form? Ehh, I can take it or leave it. Eggs? They're pretty creepy anyway. But Cheese?! I would say going without it was hard, but that would be the biggest understatement of all time. It was excruciating. Life is but a dream? Try a nightmare. I think it had been maybe five days before we broke down. We could have simply nibbled a little cheese cracker to fight off the shakes or munched a meager morsel of mozzarella to stop the cold sweat. But that would have been far too sensible. Instead, we ordered an extra large, extra cheese pizza. Failure never tasted so good. And while it felt soooo right to have the cheese grease running down our faces, we said to ourselves, (after we had finished every last piece mind you) no, we can do better. Determined, we picked ourselves up by our cheese-caked bootstraps, and tried again. Six long, rice and nut-filled, god forsaken days later, on the morning of November 12th, I woke up, and I knew what I had to do. I thought, you know, I may not have it all figured out, and by it, I mean anything, but wait a minute, gosh darnit, I do know this thing, this one beautiful thing. As I sat up, the thought sprinted to my vocal chords, and before I could even get a grip on what was happening, I found myself shouting at the very top of my lungs:
So there you have it. What was I thinking setting an unattainable goal like that? What can I say, I lost sight of who I am and almost overexerted myself in the process. Pheww. It was a close one, but in the end I learned something valuable about myself: I cannot live without cheese. And now I feel more determination than ever, to eat as much of it as I possibly can. I think I feel about cheese the way Pooh must feel about honey. And so, in honor of Pooh, who, by the way is my all-time favorite character (see, you're learning all kinds of things about me) I wrote a silly little haikuish song to express my love for cheese:
Like milk from a tit,
Time changes all things.
Behold the power of cheese.
(Except, I don't think Pooh would say tit, not in front of the kids.)
when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)