The Case of the Silver Whisker
First, some old business. The song for today, #209, is 'Naive Melody' by Talking Heads. I'm not sure, but this might have been the song where all the members of the bands switched instruments. I always like stuff like that. Anyway, I'm choosing it because I love the band and that song is among the most haunting I've ever heard. There was one year in my life where I played that song about six times daily. It's almost perfect, I think. Meditative, strange, singular. There's only one song I can think of that's more haunting, and that's 'A Day in the Life' by the Beatles. So let's make that song #210 while we're at it. Yeah, let's do that.
Alright, that brings us up to the present. I've observed recently a silver whisker in the mustache part of my goatee. I've had and have many gray whiskers in the lower half of my goatee, but this is the enemy's first foray into the northern quadrant of my goatee. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I don't mind getting older. In fact, I'm down with that. But the physical manifestations...this I'm a little uneasy about. I keep hoping the darker whiskers will take this straggler out back and teach him some manners. But I have my doubts that will happen. If anything, this foreign agent will likely turn my darker whiskers into double agents, and before too long I'll look in the mirror and see Wilford Brimley looking back at me. I'm down with that, too, I'd just like it to be a few years from now, not an overnight process. Just in case, though, I've been looking at myself in the mirror recently and practicing Mr. Brimley's most famous line:
'We won't get old, and we won't ever die.'
That's from the movie Cocoon, of course. It was about some old people who didn't want to die so they hitched a ride on a spaceship and left this little shooting match of ours behind. It also starred Steve Guttenberg. The 80's, man. It was one wild time.
Anyway, that's what's going on with me today. All this talk about whiskers makes me think of my old nemesis, The Moriarty Whisker. But if I write about that today, what will I write about tomorrow?
I don't think you want to know.
Until then, compadres, keep it at least partially real.
Alright, that brings us up to the present. I've observed recently a silver whisker in the mustache part of my goatee. I've had and have many gray whiskers in the lower half of my goatee, but this is the enemy's first foray into the northern quadrant of my goatee. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I don't mind getting older. In fact, I'm down with that. But the physical manifestations...this I'm a little uneasy about. I keep hoping the darker whiskers will take this straggler out back and teach him some manners. But I have my doubts that will happen. If anything, this foreign agent will likely turn my darker whiskers into double agents, and before too long I'll look in the mirror and see Wilford Brimley looking back at me. I'm down with that, too, I'd just like it to be a few years from now, not an overnight process. Just in case, though, I've been looking at myself in the mirror recently and practicing Mr. Brimley's most famous line:
'We won't get old, and we won't ever die.'
That's from the movie Cocoon, of course. It was about some old people who didn't want to die so they hitched a ride on a spaceship and left this little shooting match of ours behind. It also starred Steve Guttenberg. The 80's, man. It was one wild time.
Anyway, that's what's going on with me today. All this talk about whiskers makes me think of my old nemesis, The Moriarty Whisker. But if I write about that today, what will I write about tomorrow?
I don't think you want to know.
Until then, compadres, keep it at least partially real.
posted by Citizen at 3:24 PM
2 Comments:
You've just got the one? Lucky you. I just grew a goatee this year, and the grey is all over.
That's one in my mustache (moo-stash), Crag. Trust me, if the silver in my goatee were real silver, I'd be worth a mint.
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