Mix'd Bag

For Charity | My Not So Private Stache

6 Comments 06 | April | 2011

In late October a fellow coworker asked me if I’d like to participate in Movember, a charity that raises money and awareness for Prostate Cancer.  My answer was, “Sure!….what’s a prostate*?”  Actually, my response was more along the lines of, “Ummm…what’s MO-vember and what did it do with NO-vember?”

*Per Wikipedia:  The prostate (from Greek ?????????prostates, literally “one who stands before”, “protector”, “guardian”).  Let’s put it this way, if a man’s heart were to win a medal of honor for serving his body, it would be The Purple Prostate.  Or in other words, it plays the part of Batman to a man’s reproductive system.  That’s why I named mine Christian Bale.  Respect.

My coworker went on to explain that the premise is to get men to grow moustaches, and in turn the public will witness the discernible increase in moustaches per capita and immediately head to the doctor to get their prostates checked.

Afterward I sought to verify my understanding of the situation.
Me: So I get to grow a moustache and claim that it’s in the name of charity?
Him: Yes.
Me: SOLD!!

Maybe I’m skipping a few steps.  Let’s try again.

The official website explains (in its own words), that a “Mo” is slang for a moustache in Australia.  This makes far more sense than most of Oz’ slang, so give them a break.  Seeing as how the moustache is a phenomenon specific to males (not counting oblivious females, which is a topic of its own that I will not venture to discuss here and now), it adds great symbolism to the cause.   Maybe not as direct a link as boobs are to breast cancer, but prostates aren’t known for their charisma.

Thus, as the website states, “the moustache become the ribbon for men’s health.”  The dedication to growing a moustache “from scratch,” starting November Movember 1st, provides the basis for collecting donations.  The basic assumption is that potential donors will think to themselves, “Wow!  He’s willing to risk his job/wife/girlfriend/social agenda for this charity.  The least I can do is give him $10 for his troubles.”  Hundreds, if not thousands of dollars later, a proud group of men stand united having done a great service for their “protectors.”

The bottom line (ba-dum ching!!) is to:

  • Promote consciousness in both men and women of the importance of loving and caring for a man’s prostate.
  • Raise money to fund research that will help find treatments and eventually a cure for prostate cancer.
  • Creep out as many women in 30 days as humanly possible.

It turns out the last one is the easiest.

“FAILING” would be an understatement when it comes to my fundraising effort, but I’m not the type to ask for money, so I’m fine with having only achieved items #1 and #3 (in roughly a 1:9 ratio).  However, my biggest success has been my commitment to transforming Movember from a one-month charity case into a five-month centerpiece of masculinity.  Powered by a few acute cases of moustache envy, a Christmas gift of moustache wax, a Monster Truck Rally, and an extremely tolerant girlfriend, I was able to justify keeping the cookie duster around for four extra months.  And much like a child’s first visit to Disneyland, it was magical.

Stache 11

But the time came when most everyone I know had witnessed it and commented according to the following dichotomy:

  • Males:  Holy shit!  Is that thing real?! That is so fuckin’ sweet.  I’m so jealous.
  • Females: (and I quote) “Nice douche-stache.”

Side Note:  I have not read “Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus” but I would be shocked if there isn’t an entire chapter dedicated to moustaches.

Aside from the binary response described above I have found the following to be true:


  • I smile every morning when I look in the bathroom mirror.
  • It’s like a bowtie on your face.  You’re instantly 10x more sophisticated than anyone else in the room.
  • It doesn’t break the ice…it obliterates it.


  • Everything gets caught in a moustache…and I mean everything. It’s equivalent to a whale’s baleen, capturing everything coming and going, from hot sauce to boogers.
  • Bagels with cream cheese are ridiculous.  It’s to the point where I don’t bother to wipe my face until both halves are gone.
  • Not all hairs are created equal.  If left to their own devices some hairs grow to a length such that (and this happened numerous times in my five-month stint) when eating they become lodged in your teeth like dental floss and are ripped out just as quickly.
  • Inevitably your tongue ventures out to “discover” the newfound presence.  This is not a problem when you asleep or alone in your cubicle, but when practiced in public it looks like Rain Man trying to lick his forehead and ears at the same time.

Yet, even though the cons seemingly outweigh the pros, I approached the transition back to stacheless with a degree of trepidation.  I liken my shaving to a woman getting a haircut.  I’m not talking about the basic removal of a ¼-inch of split ends and highlights that qualifies as “getting yer hair did,” I’m referring to the scenario when a female is going from mid-back to above the neck.  This situation leads to tears on both ends of the appointment, first due to anxiety and then due to the certainty that she has committed an offense that will socially castrate her (wrong verb?) from the rest of humanity for no less than 7 years.

The questions rain down…
“What if my friends don’t like me anymore?”
“What if it never grows back?”
“What will keep my upper lip/neck warm?”

Indeed, tough questions.  However, I’m confident that my social standing won’t falter and my approval rating won’t dip harder than a certain president’s upon involving his country in yet another war.  *yikes*

With an optimistic mindset, I have ventured back into a domain signified by normalcy, complacency and only mild attractiveness.  Brave?  Doubtful.  Stupid?  Hardly.  Hygenic?  Definitely.

The good news is that Movember is only 7 months away.  A month-long stache dash for cash.  And even if a year-round stache/stash is something only a pothead dreams of, you can be certain that a percentage of the population willing to “grow” will continue to grow as even after Halloween is long gone and the Ron Burgundy costumes disappear into the Dark Knight.

Just be sure that if you commit to the cause, you don’t (Christian) bail.  I know at least one prostate that would be severely disappointed.

What is the female equivalent of growing a moustache?  Not just hair growth, but something that would receive similar approval/disapproval from women and men, respectively?

How about the US involvement in Libya?  What’s up with that?  Are you for it?  Against it?  Unaware of it?  Does “Libya” remind you too much of “Dubya?”

Which of the Batman movies is your favorite?  (Check here for a complete list to choose from)

The Black Keys | Howlin’ For YouTube
Iron & Wine | Big Burned Hand
@Work | Outlook Not So Good
I Am “The Man” | Public vs. Private

San Diego Shows


© 2023 Long | Distance | Drunk. Powered by Wordpress. Login

Daily Edition Theme by WooThemes - Premium Wordpress Themes