Dogs... and cats, too

So, Anthony has finally managed to not completely pass out from exhaustion before giving me a chance to have a word or two. Sure, he moved into a new apartment and started back to work this week, so I'll cut him some slack. None of his students have beards. Weird. Most of his colleagues don't either, with the notable exception of the Teacher of the Year who, by his own admission, has returned to school sporting a decidedly "Duck Dynasty" look. Fortunately, in spite of his aching body from the move and his lack of sleep, Anthony has managed to keep me fairly well-trimmed and presentable, with minimal neck beard... Neck beard is not appreciated so much in his job.

The new neighborhood, McKinley Heights, is remarkably full of humans walking their dogs. At the crack of dawn, throughout the day and in the dark of the night, neighbors are out for a stroll with their canines. I, of course, am a big fan of dogs. They are, essentially, all beard! It's ironic that there should be so many more dogs here than at my previous abode, located in the now seemingly misnamed neighborhood of Dogtown. Cat lovers don't hate. Anthony and I have developed a renewed interest in cats, too, being also all beard, but way softer than any other beard I have met!

Human Language

Just a short comment and clarification about how you humans communicate. I know it may seem silly, what does a beard care about how humans communicate with each other, especially via text messages? However, I do see a lot of them and have noted a common miscommunication that I think needs to be cleared up... Leave it to the beard to have to say it, but:

yeah = an understated affirmation, "yes"
yay = celebratory reaction, "hurray"

That is all. Yay!

Baseball

So a couple of nights ago Anthony took me to see the Cards vs. the Dodgers at Busch Stadium. It was a lovely night to be there, but the Cardinals kind of stunk. The lone run they scored basically came from an error by one of the Angelinos, not that I now that much about baseball. I have seen a decent number of games since Anthony moved to the Lou in 2000 and I love the enthusiasm of the fans, but I know it's a lot more meaningful to Anthony than to me. Since long before I was around, when Anthony was around 7 or 8 (I still wouldn't be in the picture for another decade), his dad used to take him regularly in the summer to see the Charlotte Orioles play. They were the AA farm team of the Baltimore Orioles, so he got to see Eddie Murray and Cal Ripken, Jr. play in the minors before they went on to Hall of Fame careers in Baltimore. His dad would smoke a cigar and Anthony would eat peanuts. Sounds like it formed some pretty great memories, so it's no surprise that Anthony would be so excited, 35 years later, to find himself in a great baseball town with a great professional baseball team to root for. Here's my view of the game:

I did notice that hardly any of the players have beards. What's up with that? Maybe that would explain while even the best of players fail something like 70% of the time to even get on base...!

Gender

A few of you have asked, "How do I refer to you, as he/she/it? What is your gender?"

So, I thought I should clarify. I am a masculine beard, so if you feel the need to refer to me in third person, I suppose you should use the pronoun "he." However, to be clear, I recognize that there are female, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender beards (did I cover them all?) and that they should all be afforded the same respect and access to a full and happy life that I enjoy. Also, beards exist for a variety of reasons, including religious/spiritual requirements which, although have no relation to my existence, should be met with equal acceptance (unless of course you just hate beards in general, which is fine as long as you express your hatred of them equally, without regard to race, gender, religion or sexual preference).

Perhaps a visual would help. Anthony found this representation of "Family" that works for him:

And I'm down with that, but this works better for me:

Don't feel left out, kids, you'll probably get a chance for a beard at some point and, hey, if you already have one, awesome! But parents of beardy children, you might want to see a pediatrician to check your kiddo's hormone levels...

Skepticism

Well, I resisted using my superpowers to cause the Lexus to burn up in a fiery crash, but I could have, mind you! I try to use my superpowers only for good. As another empowered (and I know, fictitious) being once said, "With great power comes great responsibility." I realize you may have your doubts about my abilities. I don't have any hard evidence of my anti-aging skills, but for those of you that like/need scientific evidence, check out these undeniable science-based facts:

What do you have to say now, eh, skeptics?

Driving

I am completely nonplussed by your urgency, silver Lexus. Also, I know because Anthony reads those informational electronic signs that there is an accident ahead that will bring us all to a grinding halt at any moment... So, you are riding up his (and my fellow body part's) butt fruitlessly. It's polysyllabic word day! Everybody slow down and be safe out there today. Take care of your beards (or your non-beardy chins)!

Superpowers

Oh, so Anthony reminded me that I should probably tell you about one of my superpowers or you might get bored with my stories... Here's me now, 20 years later. You'll notice that Anthony looks pretty much the same. Impressive, right?

He hid me for a little while after he had his son, Oscar, and boy did he age fast! He brought me back so his high school students would stop thinking he was only in his late 20s or early 30s. He was looking for a more "adult" look. Then a year or so ago I started to gray... I say it makes us look more distinguished, but he was slightly dismayed recently when a young woman actually guessed his age correctly (43). He was astonished that she wouldn't have started guessing with 30 something. I mean, I totally understand where he's coming from... Unless you're really sure a guy is at least 50, you don't want to start guessing in the 40s for crying out loud! So now he's thinking about putting some goo in my whiter parts to make them look like my darker parts. Not sure how I feel about that!

The beginning

This is the first memory I have from my youth (I'm on the far right). Anthony brought me to life because he played drums in an alt-punk-country band, Shinola, worked and hung out with hippies in the produce department of Whole Foods and was generally lazy about upkeep with hygiene. In the band we opened for Spoon once, but we almost missed it because Anthony overslept and the Spoon drummer offered to fill in for him! Humans are so unreliable. I've always wondered, looking back, if Anthony's bandmates wouldn't rather have had the Spoon drummer play with them. Would have made for a good story. Occasionally Anthony would come from behind the drums to sing (scream, really) the band's version of Iggy Pop's "Search and Destroy." The grill on the microphone would pull at my hairs, but I was excited to be up front and center stage for those brief moments.

Eventually, Anthony took me out from behind the drums permanently and put me behind a sound board at two really cool music venues, the Cat's Cradle in Chapel Hill, NC and the Music Farm in Charleston, SC. I saw some amazing bands: Pavement, Ben Harper, Flaming Lips, They Might Be Giants, Buzzcocks, Cowboy Junkies, Soul Coughing, Rusted Root, Motorhead, 311, Ben Folds and more. It's hard to remember all of them, but I always had the best seat in the house!