The Great Goatee Caper
Holy mackerel, I never thought I'd end up in a windstorm like I did over this goatee business! The missus says to me one day, “You should grow a goatee. It would look nice on you.”
Well, she shouldn'ta said that.I sit here every day lookin' at a picture of Buffalo Bill who had a magnificent moustache and goatee. The only thing I'm missin' is the ten gallon hat. An' I'm thinkin' maybe it's not such a bad thought. I can always go buy a hat. After all, both my grandpas had goatees at one time or another. So I figure, why not? At my age it's a miracle if anythin' grows where it's supposed to so it ain't all that certain that anythin's goin' to happen. If Don Cherry can grow one, so can I. Heck, he's a year older than me an' he looks pretty snappy.
About a week or ten days into it I go down to Sunshine Records for some business, sporting this ugly white stubble that's growin' crooked on my chin an' what do you suppose? Both the guys over there are sportin' goatees. What the H E double hockey sticks? I feel like we all got the measles or somethin' and the beards are a rash that's developed. The only thing is, it's never gonna go away.
Let's face it, these attachments are just plumb ugly. Don't take my word for it. Look it up on the internet. I did an' was dismayed. The only people who looked good with that chin scrubble were also wearin' ten gallon hats. It seems you gotta cover what's missin' on the top o' your head so the junk on your face looks a little better.
I said that to the missus an' I could see by her expression she didn't agree so I didn't talk aboit it nomore. I shouldn'ta mentioned it at all 'cause she started on about puttin' a special conditioner in the blamed thing to make it nice an' soft. Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna let her take ownership o' stuff on my face. I don't think so. She done that before on my eyebrows an' my moustache without my knowin' what she was up to. She had a handful o' purple jelly she painted all over them things an' told me not to wash it out for two hours. What – now she owns my face too? Well I sat there, starched for two hours like an obedient little boy. Then I went an' cleaned it off an' sure enough everythin' was whiter but I think it only looked like that cause of the purple. Actually, I had in mind to clean it off with the razor instead of soap an' water. Well that's what happened to Ab Marley way back when. He was one o' them WWII air force men whose most distinguishin' feature was his pencil moustache. He went all through the war wearin' it an one mornin' about ten years after he gets home he walks into the office without the thing. Seems he was day dreamin' while shavin' and before he knew it, half the moustache was shaved off. Over forty years he'd worn it and suddenly half of it was in the sink. Well, nothin' to do but shave the other half off an' start over.
Well that's what I was thinkin' about. Now I got a whole new protocol of shavin' an' it seems I got to do acrobatics to keep the thing straight an' not carve a piece out of it in the process. The last thing I need is a gapin' hole in the blamed thing if I slip up. An' the second last thing I need is some o' that purple starch on my kisser an' I'm gonna tell the missus that too! What I do need is a ten gallon hat an' I'm gonna get me one. Then maybe I'll look the part an' the goatee will start to grow on me. At least that's how it seems from up here on the top shelf.