You can tell a lot about a man by his facial hair. Though it is never good practice to stereotype, particularly in a matter as personal as this, facial hair is a key to the core of one’s being. The goatee denotes a man hunched over his PowerBook G4 in the front window of Starbucks. You want his table, but with iTunes blaring Beck into his 20-something brain, you’ll be hard-pressed to let him know. However, things get slightly trickier with the full “Grizzly Adams” beard. This man could be a lumberjack, or he could be Santa Claus. He could just as easily be Blaine, who is supposedly neither lumberjack nor Santa Claus. I don’t buy it. Given the power of facial hair, the moustache alone can make these kinds of distinctions. The large, bushy mustache gives its owner a sense of control. In fact, many believe that William Howard Taft was never elected president, but that his facial hair alone was given his seat in the Oval Office. Similar folklore alludes to Confucius’ wisdom residing in his whiskers, and the impeccable dance moves and infectious disco beat of the “Village People” being due in large part to their signature handlebar moustaches. However, the facial hair most common to my daily routine is not a moustache like those of my heroes Taft, Confucius, and…the Village People? No, it is the dark, whispy, little-moustache-that-could known by many as, “The Dirty ‘Stache.” Despite your initial reaction to this term, “The Dirty ‘Stache” is not literally a professional wrestler, bar mitzvah dance craze, or slang term for a particularly pesky STD. Metaphorically, however, I consider it to be closely related to all of these things, in one way or another. Like Hulk Hogan, it has our fine place of learning in a headlock, showing up at every twist and turn in all of its pubescent majesty. Like the electric slide, it is a cheap excuse for something far superior, like the chicken dance or mutton chop sideburns. As for my last comparison… I imagine it’s itchy. As many naysayers around campus are aware, the Gillette Corporation has recently released the “Fusion” razor. This five-bladed razor ensures a close shave with every stroke, despite notions that the Fusion’s fifth blade does little more than one-up Schick’s four-bladed “Quattro.” Regardless of our fear of a hygienic cold war, one would still think that this new innovation in facial hair maintenance would be of assistance in the fight against “The Dirty ‘Stache.” This is clearly not the case. When I asked an employee at the Main Street CVS about sales of the razor, she had not noticed an abundance of “Dirty ‘Staches” on Fusion-buying patrons, but rather a large number donning PA varsity swimming jackets. Despite the glimmer of hope provided by the Fusion’s advancement in shaving technology, the Gillette Corporation will not be our savior in the fight against this unseemly trend. So, as you take a look around you, don’t write this follicle faux pas off as left-over chocolate milk. As a community, we need to be assertive. Think about the magnificence of a moustache done right. Don’t let its name be soiled by this ugly cousin. Shame on you “Dirty ‘Stache”…Confucius would be turning in his grave.
