So this beard I’m growing is getting a little out of hand. Never in my entire life have my jowls corralled this much facial hair. I’m not bragging, as I know of people sporting far more impressive manes ... but this is a lot of beard for me. And I’m not sure I can handle it.

Seriously, people are talking about it. I’m used to getting comments on my face-hair growth, but for different reasons. In fact, here’s what I had to say about beard-related conversations in a column I wrote many years ago.

And I quote (myself) ...

I just don’t have a problem with a small to medium amount of hair on my face cheeks. This is with what I have a problem: if I go a certain amount of time without shaving, say exactly forty-eight hours, people feel the need to say something about it. The super-creative people with whom I surround myself usually say something profound like, “Hey, what’s the beard all about?”

What the hell kind of question is that?

I can perhaps assume that by asking “What’s the beard all about?” they are actually saying, “Hey, you have a beard.” Or, “When last I saw you, your face was clean shaven. And now, there is hair. What a notable turn of events this is.” Or, “My god. The luscious mane of man-hair gushing from your face is driving me insane with rapturous delight. If you don’t mind, I would very much like to French kiss you and experience the full, unfiltered power of your bearded visage.”

But that’s silly. Asking me “What’s the beard all about?” really seems to imply the question “What is your beard for?” As if there is some sort of ulterior motive behind the beard. Like, maybe I need to go undercover and bust some bikers for dealing the dope to swarthy bearded bad guys at roadhouses up and down Highway 12. Or maybe it’s for a role I’m taking in a new Wes Anderson film that will show at Greng’s Theatre at 3:10pm on a Wednesday afternoon. Or maybe I’m training for an Arctic camping trip with competitive beard growers.

Exactly what do people want to hear?

... aaaaaand end quote!

Wow, that Mike Paulus quotation went on for a self-indulgently long time, didn’t it? And did you notice the reference to Greng’s Theatre? That’s some local history right there, people.

People assumed I had mulled things over, as if I’d made some kind of calculated decision to unleash a righteous whisker farm upon my friends and neighbors. I actually hadn’t thought about it at all.

Anyway, back when I wrote all that, I thought the attention I got – simply for not shaving – was pretty funny because I really wasn’t “growing a bread.” I was just “being lazy.” And yet people assumed I had mulled things over, as if I’d made some kind of calculated decision to unleash a righteous whisker farm upon my friends and neighbors. I actually hadn’t thought about it at all.

But I’m here to tell you this is no longer the case. I’ve thought about it. And the current, 2014 state of my beard is playing for keeps, y’all. It has purpose. I’m doing this for a reason. It’s so long that it no longer itches.  

Now, you’d think the whole trendy beard ironic hipster whatever-you-wanna-call-it thing would have faded out a good 10 years ago. But it didn’t. It evolved. Genuine, non-ironic beards are everywhere, and I couldn’t be happier. No one thinks I’m trying to look like a sensitive singer/songwriter/rustic furniture craftsman. (Or Zach Galifianakis.) I can just be the bearded me that I’d love to be. It’s a viable option for personal grooming.

That said, there are some people who will always pigeon hole your manly face and just assume you’re friends with every other bearded dude in town. They think there’s some kind of whisker-based secret society, and we have a country club festooned with framed pictures of Charles Darwin and Ernest Hemingway and Gandalf the Grey hanging next to fancy trimming stations. That’d be delightful, but if it exists, I have yet to receive the hairy secret invite.

Also, once you’ve grown one, many people assume you’re some kind of beard expert, like you’ve done research on both the historical significance and modern-day technology surrounding facial hair. But beard growing isn’t like bread making or home brewing, complete with manuals and websites full of recipes (not serious ones, anyway). Simply having one doesn’t mean you’ve mastered the art form. I mean, there are thousands of people in our fair city alone in possession of automobiles, despite having absolutely no idea how to operate them.

No, I’m no expert. I’m just a guy with a beard. I’m just like you, but maybe a little hairier.

Here I am, watch me grow.