Hubby’s facial hair.

Grown Man wrote a cool blog entry yesterday about facial hair, Get Your Facial Hair Under Control.
And it got me thinking about the nuances of men’s facial hair, particularly my husband’s facial hair.  (In all fairness, I have warned you before that I think too much.)

Generally speaking I agree with Grown Man’s post.  The key being the “under control” part.

So in case you were wondering (which I’m absolutely sure you weren’t) here is Dorky Deb’s thoughts on men’s facial hair:

Generally speaking, I like it.  But it’s not for everyone.  It really depends on the person.  Some men look bizarre with facial hair, some look bizarre without it.

My father falls into the first category.  My husband falls into the latter one.

These are the types of facial hair that I find “acceptable”:
(Doesn’t that sound prissy? As if I am the queen of all male appearances – “I dub thee acceptable”…LOL)
– full beard
– mustache (depends heavily on the person)
– goatee

All need to be kept clean and under control.

No varying lengths.  No food.  No grime.  No woolly mammoth stuff.

Creative artistry with facial hair?  No.  Seriously – that dives WAY too far into metro-sexual land for me.   I would never want a man who spent more time in front of a mirror than I do.  And I am for the most part, a shower and go kinda gal.  So…  the idea of any man sitting in front of a mirror daily carving out little designs down his jaw bone…. No.  Just no.

Now let’s get personal, at the expense of my husband of course.  Poor guy.

We’ll travel back to a time to when I first met my husband.  You know that saying about how when men meet a woman they want her to stay the same forever, and how when women meet a man they want to “improve” him.  Well…  I must plead a little guilty to that one, at least on two counts.  (Dorky Deb hangs head in shame.)

My husband is 10, almost 11, years older than I.  When I met him there were two things I wasn’t too crazy about.  One, he had positively hideous glasses.  Dude was still rocking the glasses he got when he left the Army.  And let’s just say the Army wasn’t into looks.  And when you combined his big beefy build, excellent posture, flat-top haircut, and a big thick mustache – the overall look was one that screamed, “I am a cop!”  and made me picture him standing outside my driver’s window saying, “Mam, do you know how fast you were going back there?”

I actually didn’t know what he did for a living or what his past work experience was when I first saw him – but let’s just say I wasn’t far off.

Someday I’ll tell you the story of what happened to the glasses.  It’s actually pretty funny, I think.  He doesn’t think it’s funny at all.  But right now I’m talking about facial hair, so I’ll make an effort to stay on topic.

I didn’t mind the stache, it was just too thick.  WAY too thick.  It wasn’t long or unkempt or anything.  It was just WAY too thick.  I thought, “I could fix that.”   hehehe (yep there’s that pesky theory again.)

Later in the relationship I talked him into whacking down that stache a bunch and later on trying a goatee.  The result was something we were both happy with.  I guess that statement makes me sound vain, but honestly there is just no reason for a man to wear a facial hair style that ages him.  Seriously.

Don’t believe me?  Take a look.  I wish I had better, close up photos.  It took some serious digging just to come up with these photos because my own Grown man is very anti-photo.  Grrrr  Anyway… I give you example #1:

Note big thick stache, and the style of glasses that I hated.

~

Example #2:
See how much better?  I rest my case.

Personally I like the goatee even more.  But again, my grown man is difficult when it comes to photos, so you’ll have to take my word for that one.  Over the course of our relationship he has on occasion shaved the goatee.  But typically he keeps it.

Once (for reasons I will never understand) he went into the bathroom and gave himself a clean shave. Clean. His entire face.  We were all traumatized.  You think I’m kidding, but I’m not.  My big beefy guy had somehow morphed himself into a soft-looking government type.  He hates that description, but I don’t know how else to describe it.  In a matter of minutes he warped from being my big strong veteran, into looking like he belonged in Washington D.C. wearing a blue suit and a red tie.  It was bad.

When he exited the bathroom he said, “Um, Deb…  I think I..I.. … um… did something bad.”

The kids mouths gaped open, then they ran (seriously).  The baby cried.  (No joke.)  She cried every time he picked her up for 2 days.  And she is a total Daddy’s girl.  He looked that different.

I got a horrible case of the giggles every time he tried to kiss me.  To the point that I think I started to hurt his feelings and I felt absolutely awful about it.  I would try soooooooooooooo hard not to giggle.  But, as anyone who knows me knows, I am not good at suppressing giggles.

We all rejoiced when it grew back in enough that he was recognizable again.

The clean shave is not a good fit for everyone.  But under control?  Absolutely.

Advertisements

Mimosa Tree

I took this photograph this week of my grandmother’s Mimosa Tree.
Each year since her passing, it has produced more lovely blooms than ever before.

It’s much nicer in full size.  But I thought I’d share it with my readers here.

The Forgotten War

Today, June 25th, 2010, is the 60th Anniversary of the beginning of the Korean War.   Yet, you see almost no media attention, remembrances, almost nothing.  So many brave souls lived and died in service to this country.

My grandfather served in WWII, the Korean War, and volunteered for Vietnam.  When they told him he was too old for Nam he did everything he could to convince them otherwise.  He was furious when they wouldn’t budge.

He is 89 years old now and still with us, Thank God.  He is the quintessential “hard-ass”.   A man with a good heart, a real tough exterior, and some nasty demons that still haunt him.  He doesn’t talk much about his time at war.  If he does, it’s typically a silly story about something that happened involving friends, or a dog.  My grandmother told me that his best friend died in his arms during the war (not sure if it was WWII or Korea) and he was never quite the same she said.

When I was a little kid I remember how Grandma wouldn’t make certain recipes because they contained rice and Grandpa wouldn’t eat rice.  I asked him why and he would say in a gruff voice, “I just don’t like it.”  I would say, “Why PawPaw, it’s just rice?”  And he would say, “I just don’t.”

Later in private, Gram told me that where PawPaw was stationed during the Korean war there were many starving children.  She said he came home from the war terribly thin.  He had given his rations away everyday to begging children.  Some were no bigger than toddlers and he would spoon feed them.  He had to be careful and sneak his food away because they weren’t supposed to give away their food.  Some superiors knew and turned a blind eye, but others would have been very upset had he gotten caught.  Not out of cruelty, but just because they didn’t want their men collapsing from lack of nutrition.  He told my grandmother that he just couldn’t eat knowing there were so many hungry children nearby.  So he continued this process of giving away his food whenever possible, and he lived on mostly rice alone.  Rice (unlike other more nutritious foods) was plentiful in the area.

My Grandpa is a very tall, big broad shouldered man.  When he returned home from Korea he was so very thin.  And he told my Grandma that he would never eat rice again.
He said, “I cannot look at rice and not think of hungry babies.”

Today he’s 89 years old and still hasn’t touched another bite of rice.

If you would like more information about our veterans and Korean children www.koreanchildren.org is a good place to start.

If you can find a veteran today, please take a moment and thank them for their service.

I’m tough, want me to show you?

Today a conversation popped up in which I got the distinct impression that my son had somehow gotten the idea that boys were a great deal tougher than girls.  This little theory didn’t set very well with me.

So I pulled him aside and explained to him that I was getting the impression that was what he thought.  And I told him if that was what he though, he was wrong.  I told him that boys & girls might be tough in different ways and strong in different ways.  But they are both tough and both strong.

My 6 year old daughter was eavesdropping on that conversation and walked in beside us and with a smile on her face said,  “I’m a tough girl.  Want me to show you?  I could punch you in your face.”

Yep, that’s my girl.     🙂

This morning…

This morning I decided to go back to bed and snuggle up to my husband for a bit.  I tucked in beside him with my head on his chest.

husband:    “Awww   Nice.”   And he wraps his arms around me.

a minute later:

me:  giggles

him:  “What?”

me: “Your chest hair smells like waffles.”

🙂

You’re a Grown Man

It’s rare that I find a blog that I like as much as You’re a Grown Man.  Ok, I know – I’m a gal.  And a dorky one at that.  So I am admittedly not the target audience.   But I LOVE the blog.

If you haven’t seen it (you really should), essentially the dude gives men tips on being grown men.  Or as he puts it, “I believe men are inherently good creatures who are in need of some council on living up to their potential.”  However you chose to describe it, it is a blog that is striking a really nice balance between educational and fun.

And before any of my male readers get their tighty whities in a bunch, I am not a over-the-top feminist here, promoting a blog that tries to wimpify the men of the world.
Trust me, it’s not that kind of blog.

It’s kind of sad that there is a need for a Grown Man blog.  But without a doubt there truly is a need.  I live in a part of the U.S. where most of the things that he speaks of, are (thankfully) still the norm.  But I see the changes all over other areas.  And even here, especially on trips to town.

Myself being a woman who is really not into the whole metro sexual trend,  I have found his blog to be a breath of fresh air.

I like the blog so much that I find myself scared that it will get ruined somehow.  Like when they try to make a sequel to one of your favorite movies, and you don’t know if it is going to be amazing or just plain suck.  I get that type of feeling of apprehension.  I enjoy reading You’re a Grown Man so much that part of me fears logging on someday and he’ll have a new post titled, “Yes Men, it’s ok to put clear gloss over your mani-pedi”  or something equally horrifying. But so far no such horrors have greeted me.  🙂

I’m convinced that the dude that runs this blog should give a structured class in grown manhood.  A class that men could graduate from, if they choose – kind of like a driver’s license – for manhood.   🙂

And when men graduate, they get a card.  A Grown Man Card, if you will.

I created this post on a whim with all of about 5 seconds of thought, and then it occurred to me that there could be tiers the classes.  Start out with Grown Man 101.  And move up.  Because let’s face it, some men have it down well enough they could clep many or even all of the classes.  But we all know a few men that could truly use a very basic starter course.

Dating sites, Facebook pages, etc. could reflect a man’s “Grown Man” status.  It could be listed in Facebook under “Education”.

….  Yes, the class part of this post is partly in jest.  But honestly it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Oh and Mr. Grown Man – I see a book deal in your future.

Ask me Anything

Ok here’s the deal.  Ask me anything and I will choose one or more questions per week and answer them.  But here are the rules.  You have to email the question  (I am turning off comments on this post, so don’t cheat!)   And I don’t have to answer every single question.  Hey, I said you could ask me anything.

But seriously, it can be silly, funny, random, serious, whatever.  But not kinky – sorry Dorky Deb is not answering kinky questions.      😉

So… have at it.  Please make the subject line of the email “Ask Me Anything” that way it will be easy to catch if it accidentally bumps into my spam folder.

So if you like, ask away…..     iamdorkydeb@gmail.com