BIStrash talk

It occurred to me recently that my dome hair – for lack of better terminology – can be explained in three different parts: my sideburns, my hair, and my beard. With that revelation came a further conclusion that each piece relates significantly with a particular part of my personality and my personal experiences. Irrespective of its potential value to you, I've decided to explain those three connections. Let's begin.

My sideburns, which are usually pretty long and bushy, remind me of my childhood because I was the only five-year-old who could grow sideburns, but also because my grandfather had pretty prominent 'burns at one time. When I started growing sideburns in college – about 15 years after I developed the ability – they were even longer and bushier (and wider) than they are now. I'm always stupefied by my burnage in this picture:

There's no way I could have maintained that, but I decided to keep (more reasonable) sideburns because my grandmother once told me that they reminded her of her late husband, my grandfather, a man I greatly respected.

My haircut, which is usually pretty short, reminds me of my brother, a man who I don't respect at all but obviously love and care for. It also reminds me of college and of being young and foolish. When I was growing up, I always assumed that when I finished that process – when I was "grown up" – that I would get a haircut like my father had, which was the prototypical man-part haircut. It is classic and respectable.

Since then, I've decided (a) that I'm never growing up and (b) that I don't want to comb my hair in the morning. (The sideburns and beard are needy enough.) My short haircut is the one I decided on when I entered college (after my brother got it), and it very much represents the carefree lifestyle that I lived then and still try to emulate to this day. It's simple and low-maintenance, especially when it's this short:

The beard is something else altogether. Not since the days of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle-sponsored hair gel have I spent this much time on hairstyling in the morning. (This morning my beard needed some extra attention and has taken on a slightly different look.) But rather than harkening back to my fresh-faced childhood, the beard represents my future.

If I ever want to be a tenured professor with a Don Draper bar in my office, I feel like I need a beard. Obviously, that's not essential, but I think beards are relevant to my profession. Beards speak of respect, something that I don't demand from my students through my teaching style, which is practically dependent on leveling the respect scales so my students feel comfortable in class. So the beard represents things that I need to create and maintain my desired lifestyle (distance from my students, a successful career, booze). It's also useful for pictures like this:

Quote of the Week:

"Mustrash Talk (n): A form of trash talk where Keith Hernandez delivers the trash and the talk… and the mustache."

Bloomberg sports. Hilarious.