They say that it’s probably smart to play your hand close to your vest.

When it’s a bunch of hair growing out of your face, that’s a hard thing to do.

I’m growing my beard out as we speak.

I am letting it grow…it’s not a SpongeBob situation where I can make it pop out with supreme effort….it just grows on its own.

I know what kind of beard I want to grow this time.

It’s the beard that dare not speak its name at my house.

This time, I’m going FULL VIKING.

Isn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?

Just look at that hat. I’d be the most styling mailman in the world if I could pull off that look.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve worn a beard off and on for years…had little short groomed ones…and rascally inappropriately ungroomed ones…but I’ve never gone FULL VIKING before.

I think it may be like some sort of mid-life crisis (that’s cool…do the math…52 times two is 104.  I can live with that)…no fast cars or anything like that…just a monstrously huge ball of fur sitting up low on my face.

I am excited.

My wife will be horrified.

I should have done the smart thing and just let it creep up on her.  It’s easier to take in small increments of growth than it is to see the desired result all at once…and I should never have shown her the “planned for” hat so soon, either.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I do know that I don’t want the little metro sexual ultra groom that looks like it was airbrushed on.  What’s the point of that?  Maybe it looks good in the board room with all the other fine dandies…but step up and out into the real world….stand on your hind legs and BE A MAN already.

My wife says that I have a lot of grey in my beard now.

I do have some grey in my beard now.

I do.

No one will notice the beard when I start wearing the giant fur hat, anyway.

FULL VIKING….that’s the way to go.