My Book and My Mustache
I haven’t written anything in a few weeks – at least publicly. I write every day. Hell, I write several times a day. But lately, I’ve been busy. With what…you ask? Well, my first book.
Allow me to explain: I am not writing a book, per se (what the hell does that mean?). I’ve never used it until now. It slipped out like a silk sock in a leather loafer. But I’ll keep it. Is it grammatically correct? I don’t know. I really don’t. But it sounds good. It’s elegant…rolls off the tongue so beautifully. At this point it’d be a shame to lose it.
Anyway, I am not writing a book – I am assembling a book. I was reviewing my work and realized I wrote sixteen articles on New York in the last few months. So, I said to myself, “Self…put these together, add in some commentary, and get ‘em bound.” And I’ve had a fabulous time doing it. They’ll be on sale shortly.
I didn’t edit anything; in fact, I copied and pasted word for word (and photo for photo). I included what was going through my head or what was going on in my life when I wrote them, that’s it. Simple – right?
I’ve also been growing my mustache. Not that this has taken up a lot of my time, but in its own way it has. Allow me to explain what goes on when a man decides to let the hair above his lip grow.
Week 1 – Not a hell of a lot. In fact, no one knows what you’ve embarked upon. Self-Conscious Level: 3/5.
Week 2 – It’s coming in, but not enough to warrant a joke from a friend or a weird look from a stranger. But you’re quickly approaching circus freak by the end of the week. Self-Conscious Level: 4/5.
Week 3 – Now you’re in a land few explore, and for good reason. By this time, it’s obvious what you’re up to. Your upper lip has an inchworm living above it. You know it and people notice it. Mothers make sure their children avoid you. It’s terrible. Self-Conscious Level: 5/5.
Week 4 – By this time, you realize how asymmetrical your facial hair is. These things don’t arrive looking like a movie star at a red carpet premiere – they arrive like your alcoholic uncle at a wedding he wasn’t invited to. Self-Conscious Level: 4/5.
Week 5 – Now you have a mustache, but it’s not entirely there. Women have stopped ushering kids away from you, which makes you feel like you’ve gained entry back into society. You’re starting to trim it, give it an identity. God willing, it’s less Justin Bieber and more Bill the Butcher. Self-Conscious Level: 3/5.
Week 6 – You’re pretty much there. You don’t look like William Faulkner, and you sure as hell don’t look like Magnum P.I., but you can see the path. From here on out it’s a matter of perfecting your dirt squirrel. Friends are no longer calling you a pedophile, so you got that going for you. And by now you have a mustache comb (mine come from golf club locker rooms). Self-Conscious Level: 0/5.
That’s what I’ve been up to. Assembling a book and growing my winter mustache. And I’ve been to New York a few times.
P.S. I am OBSESSED with Faulkner’s mustache.
