No Shave November is quickly coming to an end. My beard, not having been this long since college, is coming in full if not a little grayer than I remember it in the 80s. So much for memory.
Marcy sent the picture below of the two well bristled manly chaps with their hairy chops done up for Christmas.
I did not find it humorous. Beards are far too serious a thing to be done up so. It gives in to the whole notion of Santa Clause and the commercialization of this Holy Day. Let us remember that the original story on which this day is based contained many beards too. St. Joseph is oft depicted follicularly decked out and fashionably trimmed. And heaven knows that those rough and tumble shepherds who spent so much time out in the fields (at night for goodness sake) did not get up early in the morning before moving the sheep to greener pastures and grab a can of Bermashave, walk down to the outhouse with mirror in hand and scrape the stubble off of their chins so that the sheep might be impressed. Even the goats and possibly the ass in the manger had beards. Beards are holy. Beards are Scriptural. Beards are intimately tied to the whole Christmas story.
So here is my pushback. The THREE KINGS (+ one camel) BEARD!
Talk about imperial beards! Talk about the royal stubble that proceeded this august personages leading them to the manger. This advent these wise men and their camel shall be led by my beard during my sojourn to seek out the Christ Child at Christmas until, coming to the manger at Christmas at last, I shall remove them and place them at next the Divine Babe in Arms.
However, I think I may not use paps clips with such heavy ornaments.