We do not get a lot of lightening on the Oregon coast, but I am not counting on statistics alone to counter those that may pray for the occasional bolt to strike me on the top of my head out of a clear blue sky for what I am about to commit to print. The longer my years, the more I think about higher purpose and the struggles of humankind to understand our universe and our place within it. Call it what you will, but “woo-woo” moments come even to those of us who count more on science than faith to bookmark our place in the world. One such moment struck me recently while preparing to shower.
It began by thinking about how my older brother and I were blessed with extremely heavy beards at a very early age and how what I thought was really cool at 18 years of age has turned to poop after 40 years of continuous scraping of my face with various torture implements. I was recently appalled at how much facial hair was evident after I cleaned my reading glasses and looked in the mirror. I had not shaved in about 36 hours, my eyebrows resembled Andy Rooney’s, and my moustache was more like a late summer garden full of weeds than the picture my mind painted. Much of my time is my own now, as opposed to belonging to an employer, and most days I do not care much about style and appearances and simply go about my daily business oblivious to others concerns about looking like a hobo. If I have grungy work to do on the house or in the garage I am not going to wear a suit. Same with shaving. If I do not plan on having to “go to town” and see someone my wife might know who would report back to her about my deteriorated condition, I will not shave sometimes. This is happening more and more as I find that my beard is becoming even more of a forest than I ever thought possible. The EPA has proposed setting aside some of the territory on my chin for Spotted Owls to increase their chances at species survival. The current technologies available to cut or yank these hairs from my epidermis are woefully inadequate for the expanded diameters and diminished spacing between the follicles.
So, this got me to thinking, after shaving, cutting and combing. While showering, for some unknown reason, phrases of The Lord’s Prayer began misfiring through my grey matter and I began reconstructing the lines to my own design – which just happened to have something to do with facial hair. I do not mean to insult anyone and bring placard carriers to my front door, predicting doom or worse for me and those of like mind. This is simply one of my diversions from everyday concerns. I know this will not stop the hand wringing by some or the earnest prayer for my wayward soul, but to me it is just a bit o’ fun. And my brother will understand.
The Lord’s Prayer – Completely Changed
It began by thinking about how my older brother and I were blessed with extremely heavy beards at a very early age and how what I thought was really cool at 18 years of age has turned to poop after 40 years of continuous scraping of my face with various torture implements. I was recently appalled at how much facial hair was evident after I cleaned my reading glasses and looked in the mirror. I had not shaved in about 36 hours, my eyebrows resembled Andy Rooney’s, and my moustache was more like a late summer garden full of weeds than the picture my mind painted. Much of my time is my own now, as opposed to belonging to an employer, and most days I do not care much about style and appearances and simply go about my daily business oblivious to others concerns about looking like a hobo. If I have grungy work to do on the house or in the garage I am not going to wear a suit. Same with shaving. If I do not plan on having to “go to town” and see someone my wife might know who would report back to her about my deteriorated condition, I will not shave sometimes. This is happening more and more as I find that my beard is becoming even more of a forest than I ever thought possible. The EPA has proposed setting aside some of the territory on my chin for Spotted Owls to increase their chances at species survival. The current technologies available to cut or yank these hairs from my epidermis are woefully inadequate for the expanded diameters and diminished spacing between the follicles.
So, this got me to thinking, after shaving, cutting and combing. While showering, for some unknown reason, phrases of The Lord’s Prayer began misfiring through my grey matter and I began reconstructing the lines to my own design – which just happened to have something to do with facial hair. I do not mean to insult anyone and bring placard carriers to my front door, predicting doom or worse for me and those of like mind. This is simply one of my diversions from everyday concerns. I know this will not stop the hand wringing by some or the earnest prayer for my wayward soul, but to me it is just a bit o’ fun. And my brother will understand.
The Lord’s Prayer – Completely Changed
Our Father, which art in the supermarket shaving aisle
Hallowed by thy trademark brands
Thy delivery trucks come
Thy will be done with safety blades, in earth as it is, hopefully, in heaven
Give us this day our daily beard
And forgive us our no-shave days, as we forgive them that evolve to peach fuzz
And lead us not into temptation of hormone therapy
But deliver us from evil electric razors
For thine is the patented kingdom, and the three head electric power hair plucker, and the smooth skin glory, for ever and ever. Amen
1 comment:
hee hee hee
Post a Comment