GIMME SOME LIP!

     Cops. Texans. Bikers. Latin Jazz Musicians. A particular type of gay dude. I am none of these things. But now we all have one thing in common -

A MOUSTACHE.

Yesterday, I shaved. My face. Except my upper lip. 

Why? I know not, but that’s what happened, so stop asking me. 

I thought I’d give it a whirl. It is, after all, my God-given right as a man to have one, right? There was a time when that was actually a sacred symbol of all things masculine. We call this time “The 70’s”. My age was in the single digits in this decade, but I remember a lot of them being around. They were all over the friggin’ place. And it wasn’t just relegated to the aforementioned (stereotypical) categories of gentlemen. General practitioners, stock traders, optometrists, dentists, film directors, shoe salesmen, deli clerks, game show hosts - all sorts of studs sported the lip candy. My dad had one for a while for cryin’ out loud. It looked natural. Why now, does it appear as foreign on a man’s face as, say, a lobster? 

...I don’t know...

It was never something that I had a kinship towards. Mainly because, at that period of time, I worshiped guys that never in a million years woulda’ had them. The Sex Pistols. DEVO. The Cars. The Misfits,(Et Al). These dudes HATED moustaches. Moustaches were for stupid hippies! A fucking moustache was as much a symbol of everything they stood against as conformity, tradition, and all corny bullshit that existed before them. A moustache sucked in their eyes. Billy Idol would’ve shoved your moustache straight up your ass! Joey Ramone and Johnny Rotten would’ve ganged up to kick your moustache’s ass!

But, ironically, this was the impetus for my impulsive shaving (or lack thereof), decision. Shouldn’t I be able to re-invent myself at 38? Isn’t it possible to get a new perspective on yourself if you “shake it up” a bit? (No “Cars” pun intended). These days, for a dude like me, having a moustache seems unusual. Subversive. Kinda punk rock.

Not to mention, I’m a dad now, and maybe a moustache might make me feel more like a “dad” instead of feeling (mentally) like a 22 year-old in an “adult” costume. A moustache may project to the world, a “grown-up” that commands respect. 

...Or so I thought.

It didn’t. 

All I’ve noticed is that everyone I come in contact with reacts toward me like I’m either an escaped mental patient, a pedophile or a narc.

Now, granted, I opted for the “Perez prado”-style moustache, (if you’re not familiar, it’s basically the moustache equivalent of what Abe Lincoln had as a beard). Think the "Errol Flynn" with more sculpting. Similar to the one Johnny Depp decided to impose on his characterization of Ed Wood, (even though Ed Wood never really had a moustache). I guess it may come off more like a “John Waters/Snidely Whiplash” kinda thing, but what the hell is wrong with that?! Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t (genetically) grow a gloriously full nose sweater (a la “Magnum P.I.”) - so give me a goddamn break! 

But this one’s perfect for me anyway. That is, if I have to have one. I can get behind all those dudes. Me ol’ soup strainer kinda harkens the “Big Daddy Ed Roth” era of mischief makers, hoedads and hot-rod reprobates. It’s kinda bad-ass. I think I’m diggin’ it. (I’d use the phrase “it’s really growing on me”, but again, I’m trying to avoid puns).

But, I've noticed that since it's been on my face, people react to me totally different than they used to. My moustache has become a sociological experiment. I think people may have actually started to hate me. This decade may, very well, HATE a moustache! I think the baristas at Starbucks may be spitting into my Venti iced. I think the postman threw away my unemployment check. I think the dude at Ikea short-changed me! In the last couple of days, I’ve gone from flashing a friendly smile - met with reciprocated politeness - to skeptical looks of mild contempt and skepticism. I may as well be wearing a friggin' bloody clown suit, holding a rag soaked with Chloroform.

WHEN THE HELL DID THE WORLD DECIDE TO CRUCIFY A MAN FOR EXHIBITING WHAT IS A NATURAL FUNCTION OF TESTOSTERONE?! 

     It ain't right!

     Now I find myself concerned about the rights of men! I think we should show 'em all and form a moustache army. Create a union, perhaps! Send a memo to our gender and hit some sort of reset button that reminds everyone of what we're capable of! Dudes in their thirties in this era should be able to rock the soup strainer just as the men in generations of yore! 

I think about dudes I know that have been wearing moustaches as long as I’ve known them. And as far as I can tell, no one seems to be shunning them for the flava sava. And then it occurs to me, these guys are 10 years my senior, and they own it. They’ve probably had them since the 70’s. You could probably carbon-date those fuckers. Their’s probably still have Pablo Escibar’s cocaine molecules imbedded in them. Those moustaches saw Black Sabbath play the Forum! Their ‘stache seems as natural on them as nostrils. 

Maybe the answer is, you need 'creds". A “grandfather clause” sorta thing. 

Who knows?

What I do know, is that today is Earth Day, and by having my moustache, I saved electricity by not using an electric razor and saved water by not shaving with a blade. 

It’s also happens to be (coincidentally) John Waters’ birthday - and that dude has a famous moustache, (as small as it may be and is mostly eyebrow pencil). So everyone can suck it!

So I’ll see how long I can pull this thing off and while I try I’ll give mad props to all the mad geniuses throughout history who have cleverly used the negative space between their nose and upper lip. To you, gentleman, this rant is dedicated.

With (new-found) deepest respect:

Albert Einstein, Groucho Marx, Salavador Dali, Gene Shallit, Friedrich Nietzsche, Hulk Hogan, Tom Selleck, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Clark Gable, Burt Reynolds, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Dr. Fu Manchu, Geraldo Rivera, Frank Zappa, John Oats, Gen. George Armstrong Custer, Freddy Mercury, Errol Flynn, Sonny Bono, Cheech Marin, Charlie Chaplain, five out of the six members of The Village People, and all the other brave men through history that exploited and displayed this manly moniker.

(honorable mention: Marcel Duchamp’s Mona Lisa).