As a child my dream was to become a professional baseball player. Why jump out of buildings on fire or drive a police car chasing a criminal when playing my favorite sport everyday seemed not only the best job ever invented, but also such a reality as a youngster? Here is how I pictured my life as I read Ken Griffey's autobiography in the third grade: play baseball, grow up, play baseball with Ken Griffey Jr. and be happy. It seemed pleasant and attainable.
I grew up.
I ended my dreams of playing baseball.
I coped with reality and changed my dreams to ...
That is just it--to what? I didn't know until tonight. No it is not a profession, nor a certain job with a secure fixed salary. It won't change with time or with the wrinkles in my skin. It is not dependent upon skill or who I'll know. It is not for sale; it is non-negotiable.
Last night as the sun was setting my date leaned in for a closer examination of my upper lip and asked, "Are you growing a mustache?"--indeed I was I informed her. As the sun set and the game rolled into the second half I wrote on my date's back, testing her drawing-on-back-guessing-skills. Despite my inadequate spelling-bee skills, my date proved herself a worthy contender and guessed my misspelled word correctly: mustash. She being potential first-place winner at this week's upcoming spelling bee, began by clearing her throat. "Mustache. M-U-S-T-A-C-H-E. Mustache." As she finished, the crowd went wild; however, the crazy fanatic screaming of the 11 year old boy coming from behind us came most likely in response to the returned kick-off touchdown by BYU, not at my date's incredible talent. Had he known though what feat my date accomplished he would have peed his pants in over-excessive excitement.
Upon further review of this mysterious word and the now splendor growing and gracing my upper lip, I stumbled upon an adequate explanation of the beef brewing between whether it is a 'mustache' or 'moustache.' Mr. Movember hats off to you: "We have been having a little debate in our offices today around whether it is a Moustache (pip-pip-tally-ho hurrah) or a Mustache (yee-har pardners) - there was even a descender who insisted on calling it Mustachio, but we will ignore him. From my own point of view, I think a Mustache is an unkempt version of a Moustache. Once a Mustache has been styled, groomed and waxed it becomes the gentleman's Moustache." Anchor's away on a journey of foreseen treasures and gold -- Mustache + Flannel = a woman who appreciates true beauty.
