As of this past week, your humble blogger P-Dawg has had a beard for 2 years.  I like it, I’m totally used to it, and I thoroughly enjoy being able to shave my neck every other day instead of every day while still looking presentable.  All that said, it wasn’t a slam dunk from the very beginning of this facial hair experience.

I’d gone a week plus without shaving once before, about a year and a half before this time.  Then, I shaved my neck to get a good shape to it and tried it out for one day at work to get a feel for people’s reactions.  My lovely wife was very diplomatic, saying that it looked cute but she preferred me clean-shaven.  My boss took a look and said something completely without opinion like, “Hey, look at you!”  I asked if he liked it and he said, “It doesn’t matter if I like it; it’s how you feel about it.”  Not quite a ringing endorsement.  My co-worker Rob walked in, saw my new facial accessory, and said, “Put that thing away, you’re scaring the children.”  I’d gone in saying it was a one day experiment, and I shaved it off the following morning.

This time, however, I realized that I actually liked how it looked and was determined to live with it for a little longer to make a full assessment.  I remember a handful of reactions from people seeing me for the first time as a bearded man.  Fellow blogger MC Squared said, “What’s up, Grizzly Adams?”  Our friend Dave turned to him and said, “You gonna let him keep that for your wedding?”  (It was 7 months from then, but he seemed genuinely concerned that I might have a beard in wedding photos and then not have one later in life.)  The next week I saw the guy who cuts my hair.  “Mountain Jim!” he yelled when he saw me.  While I’m not sure who he’s referencing, at least it sounds like a manly comparison. The same co-worker Rob from earlier thinks I look like Pau Gasol, which is simultaneously insulting and flattering. 

There are two comments that I heard far and away more than the rest.  In second place: “You look like a rabbi!”  I heard that most when I was wearing a suit, but maybe it was the Torah that I was bringing everywhere with me.  (Actually, though I kid about the Torah, I was a co-officiant at Mike Honcho’s wedding and probably looked super rabbi-like.)  And in first place: “Jesus!”  I suppose being thin, Jewish, and bearded could give one a Jesish appearance, but I don’t really see it.  The best of that bunch was when I texted a guy I work with occasionally in New York telling him that I hoped the Knicks would get LeBron when he became a free agent.  He wrote back, “Your lips to Your ears.”  Nice.

So it’s been two years now, and the questions have all turned from “Are you going to keep it?” to “Do you think you’ll ever shave it?” and “Would your kids recognize you without it?”  Yes, I see myself being unbearded again sometime, but I don’t know when.  If it starts going gray I think it’ll have to go, but hopefully that’s a while from now.  As for my kids…I don’t know.  My daughter looks at me confused and has even started crying once when I’ve put on a baseball hat, so I think I might have to shave in stages to make it less drastic.

In any case, I did something new earlier this week.  I was looking at a document on my computer, said “Hmmm,” and stroked my beard.  When I realized what I had done, it weirded me out and I immediately emailed myself to write about it.  I really hope that was a one-time thing, because while I’m fully comfortable being Beard Guy now, I don’t ever want to transition into Creepy Stroking Beard Guy.  Wish me luck.