No-shave November 2011, more commonly referred to as “Movember,” has finally concluded. As the visionary and captain of the Manitoban’s official Movember team, I would first off like to report on the success we had with the month-long campaign.
Appropriately named ‘The Mo-nitoban,” our eight-member team made up of Manitoban staff raised a good chunk of change towards the Movember campaign. According to the official Canadian Movember website, “the funds raised are directed to programs run directly by Movember and our men’s health partner, Prostate Cancer Canada.”
It was a worthy cause that our entire staff was willing to get behind, whether by growing a moustache, contributing financially or simply tolerating the excessive facial hair around the office.
Unfortunately not all moustaches are equal, and despite my desire to grow magnificent facial hair, my face simply fails to muster a decent duster.
After a full month of not shaving my upper lip, what remains is barely visible and more disturbing than impressive. It’s the sort of moustache one expects to see on a teenager whose dad has neglected to teach him to shave, not a 23-year-old university student.
Despite my detractors, I made it all the way through the month with the best moustache that my face could create. It’s not pretty; it can’t be curled, properly combed or waxed, but it’s there. And it demands to be respected!
I’m sure if I kept growing this thing out for a year or more, it might begin to resemble something that most guys can manage to grow within a month.
But you know what? On behalf of every guy who cannot grow a decent moustache during November, I’ve got something to say to all you moustache elitists out there: Keep it to yourself, all right?!
We all see how impressive your moustaches are, and I envy your moustache growing abilities more than you’ll ever know. It’s difficult walking around, seeing the magnificent moustaches everywhere you go during Movember, when you’ve got next-to-nothing to show for your own upper lip plumage.
It boils down to genetics, something completely out of the control of those who may wish to achieve the epic facial hair status of famous moustachioed celebrities Tom Selleck, Hulk Hogan or Gene Shalit. I suppose I could complain to my parents or grandparents for the shoddy moustache-growing genetics that they’ve passed down to me, but that would ultimately be as thin an endeavour as the whiskers adorning my upper lip.
As eager as I am, year after year, to grow a moustache for Movember, in truth I dread the month. I’m well aware I likely won’t start to see any results until the final week of growth, but I appreciate the process. I’m happy to attempt to grow a moustache to raise awareness for a good cause, and I especially enjoy not having to shave for a whole month. Organizing a team to raise money this year — as opposed to previous years where laziness was my primary motivation — made this year’s month that much more meaningful.
But for a month where most guys look more than slightly ridiculous with a lip tickler adorning their face, is it really fair for the elite to look down upon those with less-than-impressive moustaches?
The other Mo-nitoban members were merciless with their comments and critiques on my lack of moustache growing prowess. I took the jokes in stride, but they seemed to take the easy road by cracking jokes, instead of being supportive like a good teammate should be. Someone even mentioned buying me a box of hair dye specially formulated for moustaches; I’m still waiting . . .
This message goes out to anyone who has negatively critiqued individuals cursed with this unique brand of follicly challenged existence; we are legion . . . and count among our numbers someone who gets consistently lambasted in the public arena: Sidney Crosby.
Every year during the playoffs, fans and critics inevitably take their jabs at Crosby’s attempt at growing playoff beard. Is it justified? Perhaps. But then again, playoff beards exist in a different realm than the Movember moustache — the former being for luck, the latter in support of an important cause.
It’s the principal of the matter, taking a guy down a peg when he’s just trying to take part in a good thing. Maybe I’m bitter — I’ll just outright admit that I am — but it feels like no one has stood up for those men who can’t grow a good moustache.
Well, no more. To all those men out there who are afraid to grow a mo’ because they know they’re a few whiskers short of a genuine “Sniffer Swiffer,” let it be known that it’s okay to glorify peach fuzz for the cause of raising awareness of prostate cancer.
I hope next November you will stand with me in defiance against the mustachioed elite, as we raise money for cancer research and shout from the mountaintops in unison: “Yes, this is the best I could do. Deal with it!”