The Beard

My relationship with facial hair began in ninth grade. Even though you're past middle school, ninth grade is still filled with awkwardness as you're thrust into the the same environment with people who you consider to be serious adults in the Senior class. Things can get especially uncomfortable when you are overweight and have a mushroom looking bowl cut (bowl cuts were not intended for people with thick curly hair - most especially not the kind of cut where they shave it way up high and the hair hangs down)and you have to get braces for the second time. It also doesnt help when you're wearing jnco's and XXL polo shirts with a pair of airwalks or doc martens which unfortunately was my dress of choice at the time.

Ninth grade is also about the time that the first strands of peach fuzz start showing up on a young mans face. Of course there's always the "Teen Wolf" in every class who can grow a full beard by the time they are 11 but for most of us it was a new thing. While most guys in my class either just left it or began shaving once a month, I actually saw it as an opportunity to distinguish myself from my classmates and prove that I was a man to all the ladies. How did I do it? Just For Men Beard and Mustache series. That is correct - as a 13 year old boy I began giving myself hair treatments in the form of brown sideburns.

I can pretty vividly remember getting the first box of color and thinking about what my life would be like if I had sideburns. I imagined myself as the cool guy in my class but then question came up "How cool are you if you have to dye your sideburns?". Obviously, that didnt stop me. What did slightly scare me was the fact that my sideburns were a different color than the rest of my hair. I brushed it off - after all, I thought my dads mustache was a greenish color and nobody ever questioned him.

The thought certainly went through my head once or twice that it might look a little suspicious to show up overnight with new sideburns but it was completely worth the risk. Upon arriving at school the next day, my best friend at the time, Mike, drew some attention to the new addition with probably something like "What are those?". I remember casually responding "You havent noticed me growing these out? Dude, Ive been growing these things out all weekend.". Probably the best confirmation of my decision was when Natalie Hucks acknowledged their presence that same day and even said she liked them. Bullseye.

The truth is that if you would have gotten inside of 18" from them Im sure you would have seen the ink or whatever that stuff is had probably actually stained my skin. I tried to keep my personal distance from people. My painted sideburns were my secret that no one needed to know about.

Eventually the sideburns started to do their own thing and I weened myself off of the coloring product. Then came the next challenge - how far can I push this? I remember seeing guys with huge chop sideburns and thinking that I would do anything to get them. In the punk rock scene those things were a right of passage and I needed to belong. I couldnt understand why men with beards wouldnt just shave them to huge jaw length sideburns. I used to look at my friend Zac's dad's beard and think about the perfect burns I would have if I was him. He's a surgeon though and it probably would have raised a few red flags if a 50 year old doctor came into work looking like a confederate soldier/biker.

Some people experiment with drugs (I did that too) but I primarily experimented with the many varieties of facial hair out there. Early on I attempted the chinstrap, the mutton chops, the reverse manchu, the motorhead, the goatee (epic fail) and so on. When I met Hannah I was sporting a full afro and the reverse manchu which can be most easily thought of if you imagine a full beard and just remove a handlebar mustache. It is a miracle that Hannah's parents even entertained the idea of letting their daughter go out on that first date with me.

Since Hannah and I started dating nine years ago I have only shaved my beard one time. Hannah finally convinced me to do it at Myrtle Beach in 2002. It is eery to have a beard for a long time and see your face completely smooth. It is also eery to look into your girlfriends eyes and see disgust. Since then, Hannah has said in some "nice" ways that my beard is what gives shape to my face...ie. without a beard my face would just be a big blob of flesh similar to java the hutt.

The truth is that I think the beard is a fairly good illustration of who I am. I am a thinker, I feel like an old man, I like whiskey and leather, I love to hunt and fish and I am more at home in a cabin than I ever have been in a city.

Most people may not even notice I have a beard because those who have known me long enough just see it as a part of my face. But, I can only imagine the shock if I was to show up with a face white as powder. You wouldnt know me and you would feel uncomfortable around me. In your head you would be thinking that I had made a huge mistake and wondering how long it was going to take for the white beard to disappear.

If men werent supposed to wear beards every once in a while I highly doubt God would have covered our faces in hair. The only thing I would probably ever trade it for is a mustache like Tom Selleck's but few men have managed that and Im seeing a lot of hipster guys wearing them right now which is gross.

Dip or Sip

One thing that is always interesting to me at St Andrews is how slow people are to sit down after Steve or John or even Brian go through the communion proceedings. I dont really care for the hesitation and I dont know where it comes from.

Growing up in a Southern Baptist Church we did communion in a very different way than I currently do it now. In the Southern Baptist Church it was done once a month and it was taken so seriously and was always accompanied by the "if any of you has an unresolved issue with anyone" statement. Really, as a kid, I was just aware that it made the service a solid 20 minutes longer and being an overweight child who only thought about food I didnt like the prospect of delaying my lunch.

So, when I started going to St Andrews I liked two things. First, I liked the fact that it was built in to the service so that I had some idea of what to expect. Secondly, I genuinely appreciated the heart behind the remembrance on a more consistent basis and that it seemed to be more of an act of the fellowship of the body.

Communion is such an interesting part of the service. A thousand people get out of their chairs and go through a process together. It all starts when the usher hits your row.

I typically dont make eye contact at all with the person handing out the wafer. I find that its much easier to just look down and acknowledge with a nod of the head that I have received it. Otherwise, its just kind of weird since you dont really say anything back and you're really close to that persons face so a stare into their eyes would be uncomfortable.

And then comes the moment of truth. People always assume Im going to be a sipper. I dont know if its the beard or what but as soon as its time to take from the cup they start lifting it towards my mouth and when I shock them by coming in for the dip I have to come in with a slam dunk motion because the cup is at mouth level.

I have a fear of dunking my fingers in the wine. I am convinced that one of these days Im going to come up with red fingers and the person holding the cup is going to be completely disgusted. So sometimes, my wafer is pretty dry and even completely dry. Its like doing a fake so that I dont contaminate the pot.

Of course I would have the same fear if I went in for the chug like Mark. If I did that I probably out of caution would not go in aggressively enough and end up spilling the wine all over my shirt. But at least I sit in the back and an emergency exit is always a possibility. I will say that the sip from Mark is unexpected though as I always have pictured him as a dipper. Must have been that old school St. Philips upbringing.

One thing I dont love is when I am seated one row too far forward and I start running the numbers on the possibility that I may have to do communion in the front. Those are some tense moments when the back of the congregation seems to be moving at half speed and the ushers rep'ing the front are dogging it out. All I know is the back. In the front there are too many options...multiple servers, kneelers, prayer ministry etc.

There are people though that live for the front. Michael and Amanda are two of those people. They could have been the last person in the last row of the whole building and sharing a seat but they are going down front. I dont know that I've ever actually seen Michael take communion but Im almost positive he would be a sipper. Actually, Im sure of it.

Its all an interesting group of back-dippers, back-sippers, front-kneelers, sippers and dippers along with the occasional person who actually takes the cup into their own hands to consume. Actually, thats a great idea and one to remember if I ever make the transition which is not likely.