Something a person does for six months , even something one does without effort, is an achievement, however meager. My beard was just such an achievement. It was strange and ugly, it made me look homeless or more to the point like the "unibomber" or a old testament wilderness prophet. The sad thing is that it made me look really old. It came in white and gray. People treat you differently, they give you more space because you look like you may snap at any minute. Dropping Tom off at school, the well coiffed and splendid young parents looked at us like we were not there. One morning at breakfast at McDonalds (the great evil feeding tube) the cashier gave Tom a happy meal toy with his mcmuffin, I'm sure because she thought we were living in our car. It was sort of ridiculous and wonderful. The kids hated the beard. Laurie was very understanding about it and feigned ambivalence until she could stand no more. I think she missed her husband and started refering to it as my "mask" and told me I looked like the Ayatollah when I wore a knit cap. Laurie finally told me, unambiguously, to shave last week. It was time. I shaved last Saturday to a disco soundtrack. My face felt instantly lighter and I realized how much the damn thing itched. I don't miss it but what an achievement...
