It’s November. That brings a few things to mind…
Election Day – Not gonna talk about that. Voted. Grumpy.
Thanksgiving – Not gonna talk about that. Family. Grumpy.
Movember – Gonna talk about that. Facial Hair. Grumpy.
Mustache + November = Movember, which is an international effort to raise awareness for men’s health, raise some cash toward education/research, and give gentlemen across the globe an excuse not to shave for 30 days.
“Awareness” activities – from colored ribbons to community walks to fundraising – have begun to leave me cold. C’mon. If there are any adults subjected to these campaigns that aren’t already aware that breast cancer is a disease, i’d like to meet them…and perhaps buy them a television, a newspaper, a magazine or computer.
But Movember strikes a special note with me every autumn. As i stood in front of the magnifying mirror in my bathroom last night -mindlessly tweezing the stubble from my middle-aged, pre-menopausal lip, it hit me.
i am a contender. If i failed to dispose of my ‘stache pixels for 30 days, through my endless battle rhythm of tweezing in between waxing, i could grow one.