The Deadwood

The goatee goes in cycles, the longest of which was effectively all of last year. But sometimes it only lasts two or three weeks before I lose it.

One of the fun things about the process is that after I shave it, catching a glimpse of my reflection is kind of a novelty for a little while -- and the longer I had it on, the longer my newly naked face is a source of pleasant surprise.

The last hairwatch instalment (which will in fact be the last), I commented on my scruffiness and that I'd be losing it soon. Well, that turned into a lie -- as my pic from the Pratt Lecture night revealed (because I know that everyone is so fascinated with my facial hair that you tune in every day for an update, and inconsistencies in my posts spawn all sorts of commentaries. Hey, bear with me ... what else is a blog if not a digital forum for self-obsession? These are things I think about ....). As it turns out, I was just lazy. Sometimes I let the damn thing grow for the simple reason that I hate shaving my upper lip.

ANYWAY ... I figured this time I'd shave it off in stages. And so for your viewing pleasure, I give you the look I like to call "the Deadwood":

All I need now is a hat. Hey, come to think of it:

All right, it's not exactly the OK Corral or anything ... actually a whole lot more noir than Eastwood (which is, in fact, a major plus). But yes, this is my new hat, which has had me making a list over the last couple of days.

THINGS I CAN DO NOW THAT I HAVE A HAT THAT I COULDN'T DO BEFORE:

1. Keep my head dry.

2. Greet people by touching my fingertips to the brim.

3. Really get my Indiana Jones impersonation off the ground.

4. Talk with dames.

5. Look at people menacingly from under the brim.

6. Lurk under misty streetlights with style.

7. Engage in witty, colloquialism-strewn repartee with saucy cabbies.

8. Look really suave behind the desk of a backstreet office, with slatted shadows from the venetian blinds fretting my still, poised form.