A Weekend With A Mustache: A Social Experiment

Part Two: The Plight of Tom Selleck.

Its been a week or two since I first posted my blog about my little stash experiment and now here is the much anticipated second installment of my life as a mustached man. I think it would be good to start out with a little bit about this experiment and what my intentions were in performing such an awesome feat.
When I first decided to keep my mustache a couple Saturdays back, I did so because I wanted a real-life look at what it is to have a mustache in modern 21st century America. Having a mustache to go along with my police uniform for Halloween was great, but I didn’t want such an aw-inspiring thing to be wasted or taken lightly as just some sort of humorous accessory. For this reason I knew I needed a more accurate look at what life is like for these incredible men (and some Italian women). Much like a great actor researching a part for a movie, I wanted to delve into the psyche of the mustached man. I wanted to eat, drink, sleep, drink, shower, walk, drink, talk, drink, and just all out live “Mustache.” I wanted young men to look at me with envious admiration. I wanted women to shoot me scandalous, come-hither looks as if to say “you have a mustache and its not at all creepy.”
Now that you know my purpose, let’s just get right into it shall we? Many people take the mustache for granted, like it’s a simple outcropping which lives above a man’s lip, but truth be told there’s some history there. The word mustache itself comes from the French moustache, which is derived from the Italian mustaccio, from Medieval Greek moustakion which originates from the Greek mustax (mustak-) meaning “fucking sweet”. The mustache has had a rather spotted past with many ups and downs. The first known mustache dates all the way back to 300 BC to a portrait of a Scythian man on horseback sporting a rather impressive stash. Throughout history it has been a sign of nobility, poverty, power, rank, and of course sexual prowess. In many Western cultures the mustache was actually a requirement for military soldiers, serving as a symbol of rank or status. Higher the rank, cooler the stash (see civil war generals).
Throughout history the number of mustache styles has been rivaled only by the number of men who have adorned them. Some of the most note-worthy, and influential (for better or for worse) mustached men include: Joseph Stalin, Mark Twian, Adolph Hitler, Salvador Dali, Albert Einstein, Frank Zappa, Dennis Eckersley, Freddy Mercury, John Holmes, Derek Sanderson, Ned Flanders, Joe Dirt, and of course famed “Mike Tyson‘s Punchout“ boxer, Bald Bull.
Now that we know a little bit about the significant role the mustache has played in shaping the world today, let us move on to my own personal mustache experience. Up until now I have glorified the mustached man, however the life of Stashius Americanus is not all wine and roses. There are many aspects of having a mustache that most people don’t realize, for instance did you know that if you have a mustache the only cologne you are allowed to wear is either Stetson, or English Leather (though we are working on Sex Panther by Odion)? Also did you know that if you go to a bar and order a drink, no matter what you order they will always only bring you a shot of jack and an Old Milwaukee Tall. Its pretty screwed up. Also if you smoke, no cigarette other than a Marb Red will light. I’m serious you go to light it and it goes right out. And you have to use either matches, or a zippo that has the Jim Beam logo on it. Luckily I drive a pick-up, otherwise I’d have to walk everywhere. Or ride a horse who would also have to have a mustache which I’m not sure is even possible. Breakfast is particularly difficult. All you’re allowed to have is black coffee, cigarettes, and the Denny’s grand slam. You’re expected to dip during job interviews. People constantly mistake you for John Oates and ask you to sing ”Maneater”. If you get admitted to the hospital, no matter what ails you, they give you two Aspirin and tell you to stop being such a pussy. Ten AM is too late to begin drinking. No sports involving extensive running will work as you are constantly in boots. Finally you are required to visit a lumber yard at least once a day.
It is true that the life of the mustached man is one riddled with many different challenges, but if you can get by all that, you will find that having a mustache can be quite rewarding. I would be lying if I said I was 100% happy to shave my mustache on that cold gray Monday evening. I knew I looked good. I knew my friends wanted to be like me, wanted to wield such a chick-slaying weapon as I had done with such poise and class the three days prior. However out of fear of getting thrown out by Jule, and in order to avoid constant arm wrestling challenges at work, I knew that my personal stash-bashery, like all good things, must come to end. So in the same way I had brought my mustache into this world three days earlier, I would have to remove it…………with a razor in my hand, and a tear in my eye.