Friday, October 16, 2015

HARRY'S STORY (WHO AM I - A MOUNTAINMAN?, A METRO-SEXUAL?, OR A NEANDERTHAL? 2ND RELEASE






HOW TO SELL THE SPOUSE ON THE SCRUFFY LOOK?

I was now "all in" on growing the beard, for Harry and who knows how many other old guys who are groveling in their castle just to sprout some facial hair. I've learned over the years that timing is everything when dealing with sensitive subjects in our castle. I needed to wrap together facts with feelings. My partner would need reassurance that my beard would be a good thing for both of us.

Beard research had to be done quickly, and in depth. Game time was coming on fast. I hadn't shaved for a few days and and the verbal 'post its' were popping up all over the place, almost hourly - "YOU need to shave, we're going to out with --(who), (when), (why), (where), (what)!" My stubble was turning grey prematurely.

Online investigation took many directions; the history of the broom, celebrities with soup strainers, Gillette Razors, why do Amish elders get all the chics. I actually found a chat room called Raw Feelings of the Bedded Bride of the Beard. 

There was no turning back. I now had skin in the game. I just  assumed that she would support me in  my new look.  I mean, after all,  I had backed her throughout 40 some years of different hair styles, colors, and  quarterly wardrobe changeouts so this shouldn't be a big deal for her.

I had to wait for the right time to bring up my new look.  It was a beautiful fall evening; not a cloud in the sky. While cleaning up the dinner dishes  I sheepishly said, "Honey, what would be your feelings if I wanted to grow a beard?"

There was a sudden change in the barometric pressure as a dark cloud suddenly appeared over head  Like a lightening bolt, the interrogation began before I could wince another word  -- "are you dying?", " you're having an affair!!", "are you coming out of the closet?", "what will my friends say?", "your daughters won't like it!" , etc, etc.!!!!"

Something in my grin must have provoked her so I went right to my ace card.  I reminded her how George Clooney used to turn her on before grandkids. She would boast, "I wouldn't throw him out of bed for chewing crackers". "Ha, ha --  gotcha, put your money where your mouth is woman", I smirked flashing a recent picture of the bearded George from People Magazine.  I assumed the Clooney fantasy should still have some sensual sway only to be let down by her gross graphic response, "Yuk, he has leftover Cheese Whiz and Ritz residual in his beard. What a turnoff!"

Amazing how women pick up on the slightest details when it suits them.  I became indignant, defensive!!


SO MUCH FOR PLAYING THE AGING CLOONSTER CARD!

 So on I went, bringing up historical facts that I thought would be helpful --- " Look honey, if it weren't for King Camp Gillette who introduced the first razor in 1901, guys would never have had to shave. If a the little woman didn't like the whiskered look, her man would have to take his hunting knife and sharpen it on a stone to cut off some face hair.  Then she probably complained about the bloody mess he made in the cabin."

My brides look changed from no luck mister to "you are on thin ice." I don't know if her reaction had anything to do with the guys name of King. I mean, I was just citing history; she assumed King was a chauvinist.

I went on to quote Raw Feelings of the Bedded Bride of the Beard that "we'd save big money by not having to buy razor blades at Menards anymore";  that she could use the extra $$ for her makeup, or whatever. The silence became deafening. I was sinking!!

FOR EVERY JACK THERE'S A JILL!

I guess I really hit a nerve next by showing her pictures of Neanderthals Jack and Jill. I pointed out  that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder."  Jack (I think he's the one on the left) was not the best looking dude in the hood and Mary Kay products were not yet available to Jill. Love was blind!




HE: "UNK JUM AKKA HIBIBA"(Great meal beautiful, let's go to the cave & have some fun after dessert!!!!)
SHE: "NIK NO! WPEO YJUI O STASH" (Not until you get that dinosaur drip off your beard idiot!)


I was about to bring some humor into the subject with my Flintstone slides, when I noticed she had left the kitchen sometime during my presentation and was watching C-Span reruns on cable. Could this have been her way of saying, "I don't want to talk about it!", or "go ahead, make a fool out of
yourself!" or "I would prefer watching C-Span instead of listening to you."


 LOOKS LIKE I HAVE TO MAN UP AND MAKE A DECISION: LET IT GROW OR NO? 



"OH FRED, YOU TASTE SO GOOD!!!"