"Fred R" writes to ask…
Where do you stand on facial hair? Have you ever grown and worn a beard and/or 'stache for an extended period of time and if not, why not? I'm asking 'cause after a few failed furry face attempts, as much as I find no joy in shaving, it's a routine I'll put up with as the results are better than the aesthetics of the alternative.
Where do I stand on facial hair? I think everyone should have as much or as little of it as they feel is right for them. You weigh what you think it does or doesn't do for your appearance against the task of shaving or of grooming your facial hair and you decide what's best for you.
I've never had a beard of any substance. When I'm in Hermit Mode as I am now and then, it might get ten days long but when it starts to itch or I'm about to rejoin the human race, off it comes.
Late in 1977, I grew a mustache because I figured every man oughta grow one at least once to see how it looks on him. Mine looked ridiculous. I kept restyling it and the more I did, the more ridiculous it looked on me. The following is not a joke: During this period, a couple of people meeting me for the first time stared at my face and said something like, "What's the deal with that mustache?" It just looked so misplaced to them.
Actually, I had a smidgen of a reason. I was then partnered in my comedy-writing career with a fine fellow named Dennis Palumbo. Dennis was much shorter than me and he had glasses and a mustache. We looked about as unalike as any two white guys could but people tend to confuse who's who in a team. I realized they remembered our names and they remembered our faces but they weren't always sure which of us was Mark and which of us was Dennis. One day, an exec over at ABC mentioned to us that he had memorized the fact that Palumbo was the one with the mustache.
So I grew one and, sure enough, the number of people who confidently greeted each of us by our first names went down…not a huge amount but my playful side was satisfied.
After that, I was trimming the 'stache one morn when I looked in the mirror, decided it looked stupid on me and removed it. I was then involved with a nice lady named Kristine and when I came out of the bathroom sans mustache, I expected her to say, "Thank goodness you got rid of the caterpillar." That's what she'd been calling it all the time, occasionally reminding me it would never become a butterfly. When she didn't say that — or anything to indicate she'd noticed — I decided to see how long it would take her. I don't know that she ever did, which I took as a sign that my face just looked natural without it. I've never considered sporting one since.
