Lest I create the wrong impression via the picture that accompanied last Sunday's rumination on all things metal, my facially tonsorial tribute to Sir Ian Kilmister was rather short-lived (not because I'm a ridicule-phobic wimp, bur because it simply made me look too jowly). I rocked the Lemmy handlebars for a couple of hours, but ultimately decided to finish shaving the rest of it off --- yes, I know, I should have a "breaking news" banner at the top of this post -- because, well, why wear a sweater on your face when the weatherman is threatening record-breaking heat? Also, it just seemed like time for a change. I've been sporting the face-fur on and off since the summer of 2001 (I inexplicably decided to grow one during my honeymoon). I kept the beard the longest for this last stretch if for no other reason than to maintain a sense of physiognomical consistency for the benefit of my childrens' developing cognition. So much for that.
Peg, Charlotte and Oliver stayed out on Strong Island for an extra couple of days following this weekend (as the thought of being cooped up in our apartment in 102 degree heat was less than enticing). They're back home today. It remains to be seen if Charlotte and Oliver -- let alone my wife -- are going to freak out at the sight of my newly beard-less face. I'm sincerlely hoping not. I mean, I can always grow it back, but it'd be nice not to traumatize them this early in their respective little lives.
Stay tuned.
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