I Tried Beard Oil

I’m not sure what led me to it – perhaps some combination of mustacheod woodworker commercial and that one conversation with the aspiring barber at the bar – but after a stellar career of 14 years, my beard met oil.

The beard oil came in a small bottle and complimentary dropper, which I used to deposit three mounds of liquid on the tips of the index, middle, and ring fingers of my left hand, palm facing ceiling in ritualistic praise. It smelled good. Really good.

First contact [cue Close Encounters theme] changed everything. Time melted and I was sitting on my high school gymnasium stage, responding to the cute JW twins, “ya, I use conditioner because my hair is so curly.” Read more “I Tried Beard Oil”

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My Childhood Fresco

My parents sold our house from my childhood recently.  Vicky and I had visited a few weeks beforehand to gather our left-over things, reminisce, and enjoy it one last time.

It was an odd thing to walk away from something so attached to the life of my mind.  The spaces and smells which gave context and meaning to most of my growing-up experience… left vacant and somehow less meaningful.  I wondered how many treasured things I had left buried around that property, things I would never see again.

So I took something with me.

There is a patch of plastered wall in my parents’ bedroom Read more “My Childhood Fresco”

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