Once again, I am "doing Movember". For the uninitiated (of whom I'm sure that there has to be close to zero, but hey, who knows what kind of rock you might be living under), Movember is a yearly campaign to raise money and awareness of men's health - primarily in the battle against testicular and prostate cancer. Also known as cancer of the man-parts.
As the owner and guardian of some of these man-parts, supporting a cause like this is a no-brainer. Even though there is one little catch.
I hate moustaches.
|"Do I detect something in your voice that says I am in disfavor with you?"|
I don't mean I hate them on you (although I do hate them on you, and I don't even know who you are). The entire premise of grooming one's facial hair... well, it goes against my grain. I mean, if I'm going to legitimately go through the effort to shave my face, I want to get it all off. Anyone who has a baby-face like me will tell you, shaving sucks. It doesn't matter how many damn blades and moisturizing strips Gillette tries to shoehorn into a cartridge, and it doesn't matter what kind of chemists they hire to create a shaving gels and creams and lotions. It doesn't matter if I've got the temperature of the water at a perfect 36.8°C, the bathroom mirror is positioned for the optimum Qi, and I have spent an hour meditating before I take up my razor. I will bleed and I will burn.
I despise facial hair thoroughly, but not as much as I loathe shaving. This is why most people see me with a scruffy beard at all times. I like to clip it with the shortest setting on my beard trimmer about once a week. This way I can avoid shaving, but still am not required to tolerate a proper, itchy, ugly beard. The idea that someone would intentionally leave a moustache or a goatee (or as I like to call it, the "face-mullet") behind after shaving cuts against my core. I would gladly donate to a charity that puts massive research dollars into eliminating facial hair.
|Pretty much how I feel after shaving. Every. Single. Time.|
I am not aware of any such charity, so it is not without a sense of irony that I put my effort into raising money by growing a moustache instead. I originally did it as a bit of a joke. When one of my close friends was diagnosed with testicular cancer, it became a bit more personal for me. I am aware that testicular cancer, like breast cancer, does get a disproportionate amount of attention and funding when you consider that our society would be much more effective at saving lives and eliminating suffering if we went after more general ailments, for example heart disease. I know that, like we did with the ALS ice bucket challenge, we often tend to give our attention and dollars to causes that com eup with clever fundraising ideas rather than the ones with the greatest real impact, like helping prevent strokes. Personally, I need to be better at prioritizing my missions: I know this. But I also know I can always give more, because the need is great - and Movember's cause does represent an important need.
So here I am, villainous moustache and all. My face will suffer razor-burn. My wife won't kiss me for a month. I look like a seventies porn star - I've even got the hair to go with it this year. But, by Thor, I am doing my part.
If you want to help, you can donate here: DrWhizBang's MoSpace