When a man decides to grow a mustache, it is, to say the least, a serious decision. You put your reputation as a somewhat mediocre thirty-something on the line.
And, there is a very real chance that you will lose everything you’ve ever worked to achieve; a 500 square foot apartment with a drop-down ceiling, a collection of pretty cool headbands, and of course, the Pyrex collection you’ve built over several years of serious investment.
Read MoreThe day after I shaved my first mustache, a relentless and all consuming sickness came over me in the form of a terrible cold. My body would shiver, then sweat. My throat grew sore, and my muscles ached as if I had been lifting large weights as part of an intensive exercise regimen.
This has happened to me before — getting sick. I’m prone to these bouts, I’m a bonafide bubble boy with all the trimmings; allergies to dust mites, trees, nuts, cats; brittle and easily conquered by bacteria and viral attacks — such has been my life.
Read MoreHow often do you get stuck in an Uber with a grown man driving the car and who is blasting Justin Bieber at full maximum volume? I would dare say that will never happen to me ever again. Ever.
This was an experience. A bucket list check-off moment.
Read MoreThis month, I’m participating in a fundraising event called Movember. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? During this time, I will grow a mustache from scratch, in exchange for piles and piles of cold, hard cash donated by friends, loved ones, family members, strangers, postal workers, certified accountants, and of course, circus performers.
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