A time when our reserves of strength and good humor-so depleted by the dark cold days of december, january and february- begin to replenish. The promise of summer seems almost believable, from here. We are laughing more in
March: at the dog yawning, at miraculous basketball plays, and, of course, at moustaches.
Yes, everyone laughs at the moustaches. But I’m wondering, what’s the big joke?
Men of a certain age and standing here in Portland are living in constant fear. They’re scared of wearing moustaches because of a stigma. One friend told me he was having second thoughts about rocking his stache because, “I’m starting a new job and I want people to take me seriously as a professional.” Others have also expressed worry about
whether their stache would have ill effects in other parts of their lives.
This is an outrage. When did a moustache become a symbol for amatuerism? How can we stand idly by and tolerate these threats to our freedoms? How can we allow these pervasive stigmas against moustachioed-men? We, and our moustaches, must make a stand.
I propose our first action be a decisive one: beers.
If you gentlemen will allow me to be so presumptuous as to call the
first meeting of the 2009 edition of the Moustache Support Group, then
I say it is to be held this coming Friday at Novare Res in Portland at
In solidarity with the moustachioed, Eric, the proprietor, has
gracioulsy agreed to give us a 15% off our bar tab.
So, please bring your moustache and I hope to see you this Friday.
We have big things to discuss.
Yours in facial hair,
Nick “Bean Sprouts” Callanan