No more hair…

… on my face that is. I was getting a little wild looking and it was time for a haircut. I could sorta, kinda get away with a wild looking beard with a lot of hair, but when I got that cut, the beard looked really crazy. I asked him to trim it, just to get the wildness under control. Well, he hit me with the beard trimmer instead. I think he was going for that whole George Michael circa 1992 look, the really close, stubbly look that is still very popular here. Of course with my lightish, thinish facial hair, it barely showed up when he was done. It just looked like I needed a shave. The mustache was looking a little too Hitlerific, especially with the way my hair tends to fall down across my forehead, so it went too.

So I gave it a shot, but I never really warmed up to it. Tami was shocked to see me without hair on my face, it’s the only way she’s ever seen me. Karl told me, in his great Bavarian accent, “Ya, your beard vas coool.” I dunno, I like having a clean face, and really like not having to worry about getting stuff in it. I never liked the feeling of my whiskers hitting the glass ahead of my lips, my first drink after I shaved was really nice:-) So expect a clean shaven look from me if you see me this Christmas…