Gentlemen of the household of Gheorghe, I call on you to stand and be counted.
Cancer, as we know, sucks. Fuck Cancer, as a matter of fact. There are a number of excellent charitable organizations raising funds in support of cancer prevention efforts, but none of them combine noble aims with Gheorghian dipshittery quite so well as does the Movember movement. TR first brought Movember to our attention all the way back in 2008, and in typical G:TB fashion, we ignored it. I submit that this must change.
In a nutshell, Movember seeks to raise funds for cancer awareness, research, and survivorship support through the growth of lip hair (male, preferably, but to each her own - and check out this great Reddit story on the topic). Mo Bros (that's a painfully awful name, for sure, but I'm grudgingly willing to overlook it in the name of charity) begin November 1 clean-shaven, then spend the rest of the month growing the most spectacular facial topiaries possible. They raise money by engaging sponsors for their 'stachinations.
I propose to you, men of G:TB, that we initiate our own Movember chapter and join 1.9 million men worldwide in telling cancer to eat a bag of dicks. Discuss below, and if you're interested, I'll take care of the logistics.
I freely and routinely admit that I’m an idiot. I don't understand a lot of things. Things like string theory, the Dave Matthews Band's popularity, Basque, calendars, short stocky women who wear knee-high boots, the iPad, the appeal of items decorated with Burberry plaid or those weird Gucci and Louis Vuitton logos, why people buy Saturns, the factors that led to World War I, people who aren't lactose intolerant but nevertheless don't like cheese, Sarah Palin, the midget in front of me at Obama's motorcade, Flemish sours, the DC area's snow removal policy or lack thereof, the evolution of the Supreme Court's commerce clause jurisprudence, religion, transplant surgery, how anyone ever came up with the idea for circumcision and said "eh, let's give it a try and see if it pans out," the telegraph, telephones, television, telekinesis, kinases, knitting, silent k's, why the "g" is silent in "gnat" but not in "gnu," and the final scene of the final episode of the Sopranos.
And soccer. I just don't get it. It seems like everyone around the world is head-over-heels* in love with soccer. I’ve tried to watch but it’s just terrible. Nothing happens. I thought the problem was that I just don’t understand the finer points of the game, or that I haven’t seen an excellent display of soccer prowess. So I looked around on the ghooghles for some soccer clips and I found “The Goal of the Century.” Should be pretty amazing right? It has to be! It’s The Goal of the Century!! Wanna see it? Here it is:
I still don’t get soccer. Particularly if this is the best soccer-related occurrence in the last 100 years.
But with the World Cup nigh upon us I felt that I should try to adopt a team to root for. The US team was a logical choice until I looked at the roster. The closest thing to a zman on the team is "Jonathan Spector." It might be fun to root for Herculez Gomez because then I can yell "Herk-a-LEEZ! Herk-a-LEEZ!" like in the Nutty Professor. But they'll probably lose early so I need another team if I want to follow one deep into the tournament.
So I sloppily searched the FIFA World Cup site for zmen. It appears that there isn’t a single Zoltan to be found on anyone’s roster. Slovakia has a Zdenko and a Zabavnik. The Serbs really bring the zheat: Zeljko, Zdravko, Zoran, and Zigic all rock the kokarda. Ivory Coast has some dude named Didier Zokora which seems cool at first but I'll wind up making "Didier, I hardly know her" jokes and that gets old fast. Brazil has no zmen, probably because they're a bunch of fatherless bastards - about 69% of the team has no last name. One Brazilian is named "Grafite;" maybe he's into mechanical pencils? Cameroon has a Zoua and cool jerseys but I can't find their country on a map. Slovenia has a Zlatko AND a Zlatan, and I work with a cool guy from Slovenia so they have good watercooler potential. The Nordic teams have no zmen but they have tons of names with no consonants, as opposed to the central Europeans who would like to buy some vowels.
Accordingly, I'm rooting for the Slovenians. I understand that they may be even worse than the US team, which means my approach to finding a team that can go deep in the tournament is less than scientifically sound. But this also means I'll likely have an excuse to stop watching the World Cup without having to admit I don't understand why it's entertaining or even interesting.
I'll try to drum up more information on the Slovenian squadron from my inside source. Keep an eye out for some Slovenian/Ghostface crossover fillah.
*I also don’t understand the phrase “head-over-heels.” My head is always over my heels unless I’m executing a bicycle kick. Which will never happen.
The mustache has been creeping back into America’s consciousness of late, an event that could not make me happier. Perhaps, as the son of a Middle Eastern immigrant, I stand apart from the crowd in my hirsute jubilance. Do I (or, for that matter, Should I) feel incomplete as the son of a Persian man because I don’t sport upper-lip hair? Whatever the answer may be, I may have a lower social hurdle to overcome in the near future, for the mustache appears to be making a comeback (or, at the very least, a death rattle).
As a product of 1980’s pop culture, I was raised with images of alpha males like Tom Selleck, Ron Guidry, Charles Bronson, Keith Hernandez, Bobby Nystrom, Billy Martin, Ron Jeremy, Don Mattingly, Burt Reynolds, Joey Silviera, Goose Gossage and Hulk Hogan. Even the Hulkster’s first big rival was the mustachioed Iron Sheik! They represented the end-all be-all of tough guy cool. They drove fast cars, won World Series, had money, and/or banged Nina Hartley. I also envied Mr. T, but his look was a bit audacious for all but the most enterprising suburban 9 year-olds. It wasn't until I was older that I realized how much he looked like a cross between a gay genie and a seventh member of the Village People. Is that redundant?
(Brief aside: When I was a kid, my father tried to get me backstage at a WWF event in Asbury Park, NJ so we could meet the Iron Sheik. My father phonied up his Persian accent and convinced the security guard that we had traveled a great distance to meet the Sheik. The security guard bought our story, went backstage, and came back with….Salvatore Bellomo. That’s like trying to meet Mike Schmidt and getting Garth Iorg.)
In the last year, the sports world has shown us a ‘stache resurgence. Jason Giambi let it rip on his upper lip for a while last season and maintained the look because he was hitting fairly well with it. Just recently, Jason Kidd sported some hair up there. I wish I could complete the New York-area pro sports angle four ways with Jasons, but Jason Sehorn and Jason Blake are long gone from metropolitan area teams, and neither really seemed like the type.
We’ve even seen hipsters adopting the mustache these days. Johnny Depp is doing his own thing with it, but he may as well be a Frenchman these days, so we can discount him. Same for Sean Penn. Billy Crudup has occasionally sported a ‘stache since his stint as Russell Hammond in Almost Famous, as has co-star Jason Lee in his current performance as Earl. In the 1990’s, fellow William & Mary graduate Jason Ross, from Seven Mary Three, was an early adopter of the retro-handlebar mustache look, but that look is one that lies on a slippery slope. To wear a handlebar mustache is to risk being classified like the Sopranos’ own Johnny Cakes, inviting some unwanted attention (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
I am rooting for a mustache revival, not only for selfish reasons, but to redeem a generation of film idols, rock stars and professional athletes that established social norms for millions of American youngsters like myself in the 1980’s. For when we think of the decay of the mustache, we think of the ascension of the hair metal era. And that evokes painful memories that none of us want to revisit.
In a nutshell, Movember seeks to raise funds for cancer awareness, research, and survivorship support through the growth of lip hair (male, preferably, but to each her own - and check out this great Reddit story on the topic). Mo Bros (that's a painfully awful name, for sure, but I'm grudgingly willing to overlook it in the name of charity) begin November 1 clean-shaven, then spend the rest of the month growing the most spectacular facial topiaries possible. They raise money by engaging sponsors for their 'stachinations.
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