The Mustache Diaries X

Tuesday number 10.  

People have asked, "Chris, if you like the mustache so much, why don't you keep it after the wedding?"

Forgive me for not explaining the situation better.  It was decided that as great as 7 guys with mustaches is going to look together, having them for the actual wedding ceremony would be a bit much.  We're going to be rocking the stache's for the rehearsal & dinner on Friday night, and then for the pre-wedding pictures on Saturday of just the guys.  We are then going to shave off our pride and joys so that we look a little more presentable during the wedding and the post-wedding pictures of the guys and girls together.  

All that being said, this means I only have a mere 4 days...

I'll make sure to have video rolling and photos snapping during the painful mustache divorce.  If you don't hear from me for a while, it's because I'm probably going to have a tough time coming to grips with this.  I'll be parting ways with something that's really grown on me.  I've tended to it, and nurtured it, and even cultivated it for over 10 weeks.  There are marriages out there that don't even last that long.  

I'll tell you one thing:  The 'stache and I are going to live it up these next 4 days as if they are our last, because quite frankly, they will be.  I can't imagine ever putting in the time and effort (not to mention embarrassment) of growing a mustache again.  It's been a good run, pal.

Check back next week to hear all about the big wedding, and the aftermath of the mustache divorce. 

Merry Christmas! 

   

The Chris Aderhold Inaugural Deer Hunt Journal

Approximately 40 hours spent outside in an effort to kill my first deer resulted in two kills. Unfortunately, neither was a deer and both were squirrels. 

So, the cat's out of the bag. That beautiful 10-point buck I posted a couple weeks ago wasn't mine. Rebecca & Kevin's Dad bagged that bad boy during a deer drive near Black River Falls, WI.

However, in all that time spent out in the cold, I learned much about hunting deer, and came away from this experience with some pretty good stories. Additionally, I feel confident that during the special Holiday Hunt in late December-early January, I'll finally take care of business.

So, please sit back and enjoy a few stories and a few lessons I took away from my first Gun Deer Season in Reedsburg, WI 53959.

Odor is Bad

The night before my first day of hunting, I felt like a kid the night before Christmas. I gathered all my cold weather gear, pulled my .30-30 out from my truck, and went to bed early (my brothers famous Christmas Eve speech was ringing in my ears: "The faster you go to sleep, the faster it will be Christmas" - and yes, I'm looking forward to hearing it again on Wednesday).

During hunter safety class, and in talking with friends about hunting, I'd heard that it's important to have absolutely no odor while you're out hunting. I couldn't help but scoff at the notion that deer would smell me and run the other way, mostly because you can't walk anywhere around Camp without seeing their footprints.

Because of this ignorance, I headed out to the far side of Camp at 5:45 on opening morning with a steaming thermos of starbucks coffee (sans sugar because my Dentist recently used the analogy that sugar attacks my teeth more ferociously than Candace Parker attacks the rim -apparently that's really good, and apparently he's a WNBA fan).

Surprisingly, I didn't see even one deer that morning. Apparently, every other shmoe hunting that morning knew not to bring coffee with them because it sounded like I was in the middle of a war zone. I'm guessing I heard close to 60 gun shots that morning. 

The next night we had our Thanksgiving Dinner at Camp, and I had a lengthy chat with Tom - 'The Official Camp Gray Hunting Expert' and one heck of a Turkey fryer.

Tom stressed to me how important it is to be odor free, telling me he even went as far as rubbing cedar leaves on him on the way out to his stand.  He even suggested that I leave all my hunting clothes outside on my porch so they don't pick up odors from my home (which made for some chilly early mornings), and recommended that I go without showering during hunting season, and that I wait to brush my teeth until after the hunt because deer can pick up the smell of soap and toothpaste.  I decided to take this odor thing a little more seriously and tried all of his suggestions (and quite honestly, I so badly wanted to shoot a deer that had he told me to eat black licorice and pee on my leg before every hunt I probably would have tried those, too). 

Because of the amount of effort I took hunting without smell, from that point forward, I think I can officially say that my inability to shoot a deer was not directly related to scaring off deer with my human scent. 

Standing is Discouraged

On one of the last mornings of the initial 10 day hunt, I was perched on a tree stump over looking a creek at the bottom of a valley.  

After waiting for a couple hours, I heard movement to my left.  As I slowly turned my head toward the sound, I saw two decent sized does staring right at me 30 yards away. 

I slowly lifted my rifle, but couldn't take a shot because there were too many shrubs between me and the deer.  Realizing this was obviously my best chance at shooting a deer and not wanting to miss out because of some stupid honey-suckle bushes, I slowly rose up from my stump to get a better shot.  Before I could take aim at the two girls though, they decided they had had enough of me and jogged back into the woods.

I reported this exciting development to Kevin and Jeff (I had finally seen a stinkin' deer!), only to be informed that standing to shoot a deer is dumber than putting cocoa mix in milk before warming the milk (which also recently happened).  You live and learn.          

Sunrises are my favorite

Many people will argue that sitting in single digit temperatures for hours trying to shoot a deer is a waste of time.  It can feel like that somedays.  But somedays, when you arrive in your tree stand at 5:30am and you get an all access, front row seat of creation waking up all around you - the chickadees chirping, the woodpeckers pecking, and the sun rising up over the hills in all its splendor and glory, shining brightly on the snow covered earth - it's so very much worth it.  

Squirrels make an easier target

Although the meat on a squirrel isn't quite as substantial as a the meat on a deer, hunting squirrels with a trusty .22 and a trusty friend can be quite fun. (I watched National Lampoons Christmas Vacation last night, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud - LOL - when the squirrel gets loose in the house because Clark cuts down the tree in the front yard to replace the Christmas tree that Uncle Lewis burns down.  Clark says, "Where is Eddie? He usually eats these gosh darn things", to which Eddie's wife responds, "Not recently Clark.  He read that squirrels are high in cholesterol."  My loudest LOL of the night however, was when Eddie says to Rusty, "Hoo Hoo Hoo, Let's go find your sister.")  

Sledding is as fun as it was when we were kids

As much as I enjoyed hunting this past fall, whether it be deer, racoon, or squirrel, you just can't beat a good sledding hill (and jump) in the company of fine people.  

Last weekend, Nicky, Mo-T, Sean & I built a jump at the sledding hill at Camp.  After enjoying it a handful of times, I wasn't fully satisfied, and knew I had to attempt the unthinkable - a Knievelesque jump over three human beings.  In this unedited, never-before-seen (except for 30 Explorers and the Camp Gray staff) video, you can witness history, as I go for a new amateur recreational sled jump world record.    

Cya Tuesday, friends! 

The Mustache Diaries IX

The top 8 things I've learned during the nine weeks of The Mustache Diaries:

1. Egg nog is not fun to scrub out of your mustache after you get a little excited and drink it too fast.
2. The thicker and fuller your goatee, the better people treat you. 6 weeks ago, when I would go to town or walk through Wal-Mart, people would stare and point at me as if I looked like this guy. Tonight, I went to McDonalds to get a mocha, and the lady smiled at me warmly and then did the unthinkable - she put extra whip cream on top.
   
3. I got cut from the freshman high school basketball team, and I ran JV cross country all four years, however, I'm more accomplished than this pro basketball player, simply because of our upper lip growth comparison.
4. Not this guy though, again, simply because of our upper lip growth comparison.
5. Sometimes it feels like I have hair in my food, but it's just my mustache sneaking into the corners of my mouth.
6. I'd pay close to $20 to be able to grow hair in the gap on my face between my side burns and goatee. As it is, I'll probably never be able to grow a beard.
7. This advice I found on a women's hair website: "Be gentle with your hair and use a deep conditioner twice a week to help prevent damage," says DJ Freed, Aveda Global Master and owner of the Key Lime Pie Salon and Wellness Spa in Atlanta. works wonders on not only women's hair, but men's goatees as well.
8. Patience is a virtue. My Dad used to always tell us, "If it were easy, everybody could do it." He would say this to encourage us to work hard at things such as soccer and school work, because the more effort you put into something, the more you'd get out of it. I always thought this was great advice, but it's taken on a whole new meaning after dedicating myself to this assignment 9 weeks ago. The finish line is still 11 days away, but I can't help but swell with pride over all I've accomplished in this time. Sure, I graduated from college. I have an amazing job. I once stayed awake for 78 straight hours. I can clap with one hand. I'm an incredible dancer. But nothing I've accomplished in my short 25 years can compare to growing a mustache the quality I'm growing. And darn it, the reason not many people have mustaches as sweet as mine is because it wasn't easy. Not even close. Thanks Dad.
   

Stay warm out there friends, and remember, if it were easy, everybody could do it.

- The Toph

The Mustache Diaries VIII

17 days and counting...

Another Tuesday is here, friends.  

As the hour glass gets closer and closer to running out on my upper lip masterpiece, I was told by Jeff that there is still one thing I need to accomplish before it's time to shave the 'stache off: The highly coveted icicle beard.  It just so happens my friend Andy wrote about this very topic a couple weeks ago on his blog.  You should check out his excitement at successfully getting an I.B.  Click Here.  I'll have a good chance at accomplishing my own icicle beard as this Thursday starts a special 4-day anterless deer hunt here in Wisconsin.  Seeing as how we got 9 inches of snow last night and we're expecting a high of 21 on Thursday, I'd say I've got a good shot at the I.B. (speaking of hunting, this weekends hunting efforts will be included to the not yet published but nearly finished "Chris Aderhold Inaugural Deer Hunt Journal")

I don't have much more to say this week, other than I've been pretty melancholy thinking about having to shave this bad boy off soon, in addition to the fact that I have received very little feedback on what I should blog about post-Mustache Diaries.

I hope y'all are well!  

The Mustache Diaries VII

I got food caught in my mustache on Thanksgiving.

I'm not from around here, so I didn't realize this, but apparently when you sit in 18 degree weather for 9 days trying to shoot a deer, your facial hair thickens in ways you never thought possible.  That's the theory I was told by Kevin anyhow.  We're coming around the final turn and heading toward the home stretch on this bad boy.  Gary & Heidi's Big Day is 3 weeks from this Saturday.  The only thing keeping me from shaving off the bottom of the goatee is the thought of taking Christmas photos at Grandmas with just a mustache.  Though, 20 years from now those pics could be quite priceless.    

Speaking of shooting deer...  You're probably wondering why I haven't yet posted the "The Chris Aderhold Inaugural Deer Hunt Journal".   I haven't had the time to finish it, but this should whet your appetite:

That thing is huge!  Did Chris shoot that?  Check back soon.

Lastly, I need your help.  What the heck should I post about weekly after the Bailey wedding comes and goes?  Please email all suggestions to christopher.clyde.aderhold@gmail.com. Thanks y'all!

The Mustache Diaries VI

I can't believe we're already on the 6th installment of The Mustache Diaries!  Time flies when your cultivating and grooming a mustache.  

Things up in the Cheese State are well.  We had a few inches of snow the other night, and we're smack dab in the middle of a 10-day rifle deer hunt (I'll be posting 'The Chris Aderhold Inaugural Deer Hunt Journal' sometime early next week.  Trust me, you won't want to miss it!)

More importantly, another week of upper lip hair growth has come and gone, and it's still flourishing in ways I never thought possible.  And heck, I still have over a month of growth left! 

Did you know that according to dictionary.com the definition of a mustache is: 

"The hair growing on the upper lip, especially when cultivated and groomed."   

Cultivated and groomed?  I'm not even sure what that means.  

I finally got a photographic mustache update from groomsman Wes:    

 

Wes' beard looks good, but dare I say somebody's mustache is better?

Should I go ahead and shave off the bottom of the goatee now?  Hmm...

Coon Hunting WIth Jim Riggs

"We will either find a way, or make one."

This famous quote said by Hanibal, took on a new meaning for me last Sunday...

Two years ago I had the distinct privilege of living with some wonderful people down near Dallas who own a coon hound. Maggie's her name, and she is quite a lady. I got pretty close with Maggie over the course of the 6 months I lived with her (most likely our bond became strongest after I made and ate a peanut butter sandwich out of the peanut butter jar that was used to dip Maggie's dog bones in, which happened to be kept in the human food pantry - how's a guy supposed to know that one of the peanut butter jars is not for humans - possibly when I found chunks of bone in my sandwich I should have stopped eating and realized something had gone awry). I thought to myself many times, I wonder what it would be like to actually take a coon hound out on a hunt, because obviously living in the Dallas area doesn't present many opportunities for this.

I finally had an opportunity to experience a coon hunt last Sunday. Jim Riggs, the gentleman that runs the stables next to Camp, came over around 5:30 on Sunday evening with his coon hound, Bruno. We enjoyed a delicious 3 meat Roma oven pizza, and then met up with Jeff and Kevin. As we walked down to Lake Jake, I began to imagine us being in a movie and trying to decide which song would be playing in the background as we approached the lake. I'm thinking anything country would have sounded good.

Coons like to be near water, so releasing Bruno near the lake, which is a stones throw from Harrison Creek, seemed like an obvious choice. It was a chilly and overcast evening, perfect for coon hunts, but it was going to prove difficult for us to navigate through the woods.

There was no need to give Bruno a pep talk before Jim took him off his leash. Bruno knew he had a job to do, and he wasn't going to give up until he was successful. He took off like a flash towards the blue trail, and then back tracked and headed towards the creek near the settler girl cook-out area. Harrison Creek is narrow and shallow, overgrown with honey suckle, and surrounded by a forest of oaks and pines.

The four of us waited near the canoe rack at Lake Jake listening for the howl from Bruno letting us know he'd hit a scent. Only a couple minutes passed before we heard the sweet sound of joy coming from our little buddy. Immediately, Jim took off around the lake and started bushwacking into the woods near the rope swing. The rest of us did our best to keep up, as this was our first times.

Finally after what seemed like half an hour of blind bushwacking, we caught up with Bruno on the far bank of the creek. He was scrambling around howling like crazy, unfortunately though, he wasn't howling up towards the direction of a treed coon.

The ideal coon hunting scenario would have the dog chase a coon up a tree. The dog would then stand guard at the base of the tree until the hunter caught up. From there it's pretty simple: just shine a light up at the coon and pull the trigger of your gun of choice.

Things are a little more difficult when the coon runs under a bank, which is where Bruno's coon saught refuge. The cave under the bank was too deep to see up under, and the countless roots of nearby trees made it impossible to dig the coon out. We did our best to aid in Bruno's digging, but I think we all knew that this was going to be an undertaking we just weren't prepared for.

Bruno would not give up. He was howling like crazy and running back and forth between the two openings of the cave, and he kept looking up at us for help. Unfortunately, the two openings of this cave had roots nearly the diameter of a Nalgene bottle covering the holes. A dog the size of Bruno was too big to get in after the coon, and the roots were too big for us to pry apart or dig out.

After about an hour, and with the coon still perfectly intact under the bank, we tried twice to move Bruno elsewhere in the hope he'd pick up on the scent of a different coon, but both times, even though we'd moved him several hundred yards away, he immediately returned to the site of the original coon.

We caught up to him again, and this time there was a sense that if Bruno wanted the coon that bad, nothing could stand in our way.

Bruno was determined as ever, even in the face of doubt and pessimism, not unlike how I've felt in my quest for the finest mustache west of the Mississippi on Dec. 27, 2008 in Duncan, OK.

Finally, with the aid of Kevin's shotgun, we were able to find a way to get Bruno through the roots and into the cave. Before he slithered in after the coon, he looked back and gave me a wink.

Okay, he didn't wink at me, but in my mind I had a dramatic movie moment of him giving us all a head nod and a wink, as a way to tell us, "Hey, I'll be fine guys, don't worry about me".

Before I could get caught up to much in this moment (the song "The Final Coundown" was playing in my head), the loud squeal of a coon fighting for his life could be heard echoing through the pines as far away as the Ho-Chunk Casino.

Finally, realizing he didn't have a chance for survival against Bruno, he decided to run from the cave, not knowing that he had a better chance against Bruno than he did versus Jim's .22.

It was a victorious and manly walk back to Tom's maintenance shop to skin the coon.

Bruno was happier than Bill after a Red Sox World Series Championship, and the song playing in my head for that walk, covered in mud and carrying a dead, 20 pound coon was "I'm Shipping up to Boston" by the Dropkick Murphys.

Much joy for all parties in this photo (minus the coon).

Kevin and I are happy to pose with the coon.
Bruno is ready for the next hunt.

The Mustache Diaries V

Happy Tuesday Friends!  

I don't have much of an update this week other than I still haven't used any Just For Men, and I enjoy Starbucks coffee just a skosh more than Dunkin' Donuts coffee. 

I lied last week when I said in only a couple days I'd have the story up about my first coon hunting experience.  Look for it later tonight or tomorrow. I promise it will happen...

Hope you're well friends.

  

  I know what you're thinking... 

"Which one is Chris and which one is Pistol Pete?  

They both have such full and luscious mustaches."

The Mustache Diaries IV

It's Tuesday again, which of course means its again time for the weekly update of the growth on my upper lip.  I am proud to say that this past weekend I was drinking a beverage and some of my mustache became moist because its getting so long. 

 

I do feel though, that with the honor and privilege of writing a blog comes the responsibility to report 100 % honestly in all that I write about.  That being said, allow me to divulge some rather desperate thoughts I've been having lately regarding my 'stache.  I'm pretty bummed about the inconsistencies in the color and overall appearance of my whiskers.  I'd say only about 65% of the hairs in my goatee are brown, while the other 35% is a color that can only be desribed as 'peach fuzz blonde' (I don't think you'll be finding that color in a box of 64 Crayola crayons with a sharpener on back).  In fact, at a meeting last week in Madison for Wisconsin camp directors, a gal referenced me to Jeff as "the tall guy with peach fuzz".

  

Truth be told, I've been tossing around the idea of using 'Just For Men Hair Color for Mustaches and Beards' to help give me a more full and vibrant look. I was at Wal-Mart last Friday to pick up a few things (I decided to make the switch from Starbucks coffee to Dunkin' Donuts coffee based on some recent ads I have seen on television touting the superior taste and overall customer approval of Dunkin's coffee compared to Starbucks, plus it's $1 less - I'll let ya know my thoughts in a future post). Curiosity got the best of me, so I ventured over to the old people aisle and did some investigating.  Turns out, this Just For Men stuff is pretty hard core. On the side of the box they have a warning: 

 

"In rare cases, use of hair dye has been associated with skin depigmentation (skin lightening or loss of skin color), which may be temporary or permanent.  If you notice any skin depigmentation or other allergic reaction such as discomfort or severe itching, discontinue use immediately."

  

It goes on to say:

"Do not use this product at all if you have skin depigmentation problems such as white patches on your skin (a condition called vitiligo) or if you have a family history of skin depigmentation problems, as an allergic reaction may cause temporary or permanent loss of skin pigment."

You're probably wondering how I remembered all this information.  Well, it's because I decided to purchas this product anyways.  Is it worth using this stuff if there is the chance of losing the color of my skin on my upper lip?  Great question.  I haven't decided the answer yet.  It's certainly a gamble, but I'm nothing if I'm not a gamblin' man.  Ask my father.  I lost nearly $23 of his own hard earned money on the craps table at the Ho Chunk Casino.

     

Anyhow, thanks for checking in for the fourth installment of the Mustache Diaries.  If in fact I decide to do some mustache coloring experimentation, I'll no doubt document it for my loyal viewers.

Be sure to check back later this week for the story and pictures of my latest adventure:  Coon hunting with Jim Riggs...

God Bless, and God speed in all your facial hair endeavors.  

"17?  Nope, I'm actually 25."  - me

The Mustache Diaries III

Greetings all.  

What a beautiful Tuesday we had here in the great state of Wisconsin.  

Speaking of the great state of Wisconsin, I am now officially a resident of the aforementioned state.  The timing of this whole thing couldn't have been any better because as you know, when you get a new license, it comes with a new picture.  I say it was great timing because of course I now have photographic proof until 2012 that I actually attempted to grow a mustache. 

Thanks Gary.  

On Friday, some friends of Camp Gray came by with their 4 kids in their Halloween costumes to show off before they headed out to trick-or-treat.  Collin, their 6 year old boy asked me, and I quote, "Hey Chris, is that a fake beard?"  Thanks Collin. 

Anyhow, I did receive photographic evidence that Gary is in fact growing out his upper lip as well, and I'm proud to present that below.  I also was able to finagle photographic evidence of Gary's best man, Jason, and the awesome 'stache he's rocking these days.  I'm still waiting to get some photos from two other groomsmen, Mr. Hedger and Mr. Gutekunst... 

   

3 weeks down, 7 to go...

The Best Man

The Groom

The Mustache Diaries II

It's Tuesday again, which means it's again time for The Mustache Diaries.

Another week of growth has brought noticeable improvement, however, I'm still getting funny looks from people when I go into town.  People can continue to mock my facial hair, but people should know I'll do just about anything for a friend.  I once stayed awake for 78 straight hours in college because two friends asked me to stay up with them.     

What if I'm actually getting punk'd by Gary?  What if he made this whole mustache thing up to make me look like a real bagadonuts?  Folks around here have hinted at this theory... 

Gary, if you're out there, please send me an updated picture of your facial hair.  Any other guys in the wedding party, please do the same.  I will be happy to post them on this blog to keep folks updated.  

 

Gary & Heidi's Big Day is in two months...

  

Bucky the Deer

Having recently graduated with honors from the Bellville, WI Hunter Safety Education Program, (I wanna give a shout out to my two new friends from class, 7th graders John & Kevin), I was eager to get out and learn the art of taking down a deer.

The week following the graduation ceremony (which was eerily similar to an actual academic graduation with a line of students that were given a rolled up piece of paper-proof of completing the class-plus a new blaze orange hat, key chain, patch, and gun lock, followed by handshakes from the 4 course instructors (one of which was legally blind, but that's a different story for a different day)), I was talking with Tom, Camp Gray's Maintenance Man, about how little I knew about field dressing, skinning, quartering, etc. Tom didn't seem too concerned with my lack of knowledge, and he told me if I was fortunate enough to get a deer during the upcoming special 4-day hunt, he'd walk me through everything.

Well, as fate would have it, that same evening, I was heading back from a delicious barbecue dinner at Famous Dave's, with 4 pals from Camp. It was a cool, autumn evening, with the fall colors about a week from being prime. We were about a mile from Camp, when we spotted a dead buck (or so we thought!) in the ditch on Shady Lane Rd.

We continued on to Camp, but one of the guys in the car, Kevin, didn't seem satisfied with just leaving that guy laying out there. He wanted to go and at the least cut off his antlers. A couple of us didn't have anything else to do on a Wednesday evening, so Kevin, Sean, and I headed back out to go check on our new friend.

As we got close, we noticed there was a Sauk County Police Officer pulled over next to the buck, and as we slowly crept by, we could see that the deer was in fact not dead, but flopping and flailing about right there in the ditch.

We turned around and pulled up next to the officer to chat with him, and found out that the buck had been hit by a car in his hind quarters, and wasn't dead. Well, he wasn't dead when we first drove by, but the cop went ahead and finished him off with a bullet to the neck.

So, here was a perfectly good (albeit road kill) 5-point buck that had basically just fallen into our laps. We asked if we could cut off his antlers, but the cop told us that that wasn't going to happen. Well, logically, if a cop isn't going to let you cut off a road kill deer's antlers, you should probably just ask him if you can take the whole darn deer, to which he responded, "If you guys really want it, you can have it."

Initially, we decided against it, and headed home, but after discussing it further, (this was basically a free "field dress teaching tool") we borrowed Bill's truck, made a phone call to the police dispatch, picked up the deer, took him into town to get him registered, and then finally found ourselves standing over him near the Camp Gray burn pile.

We had tried to field dress Bucky earlier on the side of Shady Lane Rd., but a handful of cars kept stopping to see if we needed help (that's Wisconsin for ya).

No surprise to any of you out there with hunting experience, but apparently when you field dress a buck, before you can start cutting him open, you have to remove his manhood. Being my first experience, I was justifiably concerned. Also, because this was my first experience, I was given the "honor" of lopping 'em off.

As you can imagine, this didn't come easy for me. Ultimately though, I knew what had to be done. So, with much laughter surrounding my every move, I stepped up to the plate, and you know what? I don't care if I sound a bit boastful here when I say this, but I think I hit a home-run.

The rest of the night was a blur. We finished cleaning him out and hung him in Tom's maintenance shop. The next evening we went to work skinning and quartering him. After nearly 6 hours of work, we had roughly 60 pounds of delicious venison.

What's the moral of the story here?

Always have your new blaze orange hunter safety hat close by for pictures.

Yeah, check me out. I'm a hunter.

"You want me to cut off what?"

If you want some d-lish deer jerky, come by Camp in a couple weeks.

The Mustache Diaries

What do you do when a good friend is getting married and he asks you to be a groomsman?

Well, of course, you tell him you'd be honored!

What do you do when that same good friend decides that all the groomsman should grow mustaches for the wedding, which is in late December?

Well, if you're like me, you start growing it out in October...

I have roughly 10 weeks until judgement day.

I'm not expecting anything like this: click here

But, please, I hope to goodness it is better than this: click here

I'll tell ya what, I'd be happy with this guy's 'stache: click here

Anyhow, it's been exactly one week since my last shave. As you can see in the picture, I have alot of work left ahead of me. Be sure to check back next Tuesday for the weekly Mustache Diaries.

Yikes!  Chris has a long ways to go!

I decided to be a blogger

I don't particularly enjoy blogs.  Matter of fact, I've only ever read one blog in my entire life (click here).  However, I feel as though I have some good stories to tell, and I have friends all over the world that I don't get to speak with very often.  This is dedicated to you.  May you read my words of type and smile.  And laugh.  And cry.  And then pay .25 cents more at the Internet cafe to get 10 more minutes so you can do it all over again.  (unless you're in Wagoner, or Bartlesville, or the Outer Banks, or Stillwater, or Chicago.  Then hopefully you are sipping bottomless coffee at a Panera while using up some of their Internet for free).