The Epilogue

So Mustache Challenge 2011 has come to a close.

It's been a wild ride ... one might say a wild mustache ride (sorry, couldn't resist and no, not proud of it either). Though I was certain my mustachey antics were wearing pretty thin by the end of the week, I was surprised that come the following Monday people were actually asking me why I wasn't still doing it. As if I had an endless supply of fake facial hair stockpiled somewhere. And though I wasn't able to go the full 7 days as I had originally pledged (due to the aforementioned mysterious disappearance of one of them), when it was all said and done I was able to collect and turn in over $200 for my daughter's school's art and music project. Very, very cool and very, very appreciated.

So what have I learned from this once in a lifetime experience? A little about proper mustache placement (very important), a little about fake mustache adhesive (being clean shaved, ironically, is also very important) and even a little about myself. For example, here's a couple of my favorite, actual comments I received from coworkers over the course of the week:

"That mustache makes your teeth look big."     Nice.

"That mustache looks too fake ... it needs more gray in it."      Thanks.

And, interestingly enough, the mustache that I got the most compliments on, by far, for being the most realistic looking was the one called ... The Square. Great. What are you guys trying to tell me here? I'd like to think that if people got the chance to see me in The Hero, that would have been a different story.

Well, it's time to close the door on this particular challenge. It's been fun sharing it with you all. For those who contributed, I offer a sincere and heartfelt thank you. For those who haven't, I plan on leaving this blog and the donate button on it up and running until my 6-month old son starts high school as he will, more than likely, attend the same grade school as his sister and I'm sure they'll continue to need funding for their music and art program. So if you're feeling charitable some day down the road, please feel free do it here and I will make sure it finds it's way to the school.

By the way, I was at a local novelty store recently and stumbled upon the following ... can you say sequel?  :o{D

And I'm still waiting for my call from Conan and/or Dave.

Day Seven

And on the seventh day, the upper lip rested.

As of today, I have collected close to $200.00 to give to my daughter's school's art and music program! Thanks so much to all who donated and, for those who haven't yet, I'm keeping this blog and it's donate button active so if you're ever feeling charitable, please do so here! :o{D

Epilogue coming soon.

In the meantime, here's a smattering of pictures from my daughter's requested, aforementioned "mustache fashion show" for your viewing enjoyment ...

Also, a picture of my son not quite enjoying the mustache as much as he clearly should. Please do not report me to child protective services ...

"No me gusta!"

Day Six: The Grandpa

With The Hero (the mustache that I had originally planned to wear today) still MIA, I was forced to move The Grandpa (my final remaining mustache) up a spot in the roster. An hour before leaving for a kid's birthday party, The Grandpa and I conducted one last hunt for our fallen (out of the packaging) Hero. Reinforcements soon arrived when I heard my wife say to my 5-year-old, "Come on Zoey, let's help daddy find his mustache." I don't expect many other guys out there have had this problem. So we all searched high and low and even in-between, but to no avail. Time quickly ran out and, with a heavy heart, I called off the search and proceeded to install The Grandpa below my nose (now that's a phrase I bet you never thought you'd read).

The birthday party was at a small bowling alley that had been completely rented out so everyone there was either a friend or a family member to the birthday boy. A lot of the people there were also our friends and, interestingly enough, it was only them who either asked what was up with the mustache (being unaware of what I had been up to this past week) or stopped to admire it and ask how the donations were coming along. Everyone else at the party, assumedly, saw the thing and chose to think I was just some sort of weirdo in a fake mustache. If so, that's okay because they were pretty much correct in their assumptions, fake mustache or not. I just hope no one saw it and thought I was just some elderly fellow who would probably throw his back out if he attempted to throw a 12-pounder. Of course, when you put on a mustache called The Grandpa, you've got to expect that you'll be the target of a barrage of old age jokes. That or some boy scout will try to help you across the street.

After the party, we hit the In-and-Out drive-thru. Yes I realize that this was technically cheating and that I should have gone inside and ordered to get more stranger exposure, but time didn't allow it as we had another get together to attend to in the park shortly after. By mid-afternoon, fittingly enough, The Grandpa was seriously losing steam, meaning the adhesive was wearing out and it kept falling off. So instead of risking it falling into my food, me eating it and then either choking on it or hacking up a hairball, I decided to give Gramps the rest of the day off. By that, I meant I set it on an easy chair and turned on the game. It was snoring loudly in minutes.

So, with my 7th mustache's whereabouts still unknown, this technically could be it folks ... the end of Mustache Challenge 2011. Kind of anti-climactic to say the least. Sure I could reuse one of the previous 6 on Sunday, but, as I have no plans to even leave the house, it seems kinda moot. I mean seriously, sitting around the house all day with a fake mustache on seems even more ridiculous than leaving the house with one on, wouldn't you agree? That said, I hope those of you who have been generous enough to donate don't feel short changed by this development. If so, I apologize. Perhaps, if by some miracle The Hero finds his way back to me, I just might make it up to you by giving it one more go. Until then ...

Stay tuned for tomorrow's Epilogue.

Day Five: The Sheriff

Day five ... my final mustached working day. I still have 2 more days of this challenge, but the next time my coworkers will see me, I will be hairless. Well, my upper lip anyway. [I will, however, still be accepting donations until the day my 6-month-old son starts high school].

Though it's Friday and I typically like Fridays (no, really) I have to admit to being a bit disappointed about one thing. You see, I was scheduled to start work on a certain classic Burt Reynolds movie this week for which I had hoped to wear a cheesy 'stache to the creative meeting ... it would have been perfect. Nay .. it would have been EPIC (I don't care what Lake Superior State University says, I'm still gonna use that word, dammit). Alas, such serendipitedness (you can't refutiate that one, LSSU, I just made it up) was not meant to be. If I wore a mustache next week, it would be like wearing white after Labor Day. Instead of getting smiles and applause, I would only get eye rolls and murmured mocking comments. Okay, I admit the aforementioned applause was only in my head, but regardless, it's clear that my faux 'stache would then be a faux pas. Dare I say FAIL? No ... but I do dare type it.

But here I am, going on and on about missed opportunities and I've neglected to give today's mustache a proper introduction. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you (pause for dramatic effect ... no, really -- DO IT!) ... The Sheriff. After 2 consecutive days of ruffian-types (The Weasel and The Bruiser), today I graced my face with the facial hair of a law man. Once donned, this 'stache was ready to serve and protect.

Yes, all was well, but then tragedy struck. Shortly after carefully positioning The Sheriff (which I have learned over the last 4 days is very important to a mustache's visual impact) this morning, I happened to glance down at the original mustache packaging and noticed that something horrible had happened. It seems that, just one day before it was scheduled to grace my face, the mustache known as The Hero somehow got dislodged from it's plastic cradle was MISSING! After a panicked, extensive 2 and a  half minute search of the surrounding areas, The Hero has yet to be found. I will keep you all updated in my continued search. In the meantime, if any of you feel compelled to conduct a candlelight vigil, please do so. 

Day Four: The Bruiser

The Bruiser. The images that name conjures up: tough guy, brute, someone with a nasty temper who's quick to instigate a fight. Mess with me and there's gonna be trouble, see?

Yeeeeaaaah, that's not really me, so it came as no surprise that when I put it on this morning that's not quite the impression I got of myself while looking in the mirror. Not even close. Not even when I made my "angry face"; which, incidentally, not many people have seen. Truth be told it's pretty similar to my mildly irritated and constipated face. I meant those as two separate kinds of faces, by the way. Not that being constipated couldn't make someone mildly irritated, but I'm digressing again.  

Where was I? Oh yeah, looking in the mirror. Actually, in all honesty, the first thought that popped into my head (and I realize the danger in what I'm about to say) was ... "Daaa Bears." Now, for my friends here in California, that particular phrase probably doesn't mean much (it's actually from an old, really funny series of Saturday Night Live sketches mocking Chicago Bears fans), but for those of you in Wisconsin, it's a whole 'nother deal. You see the Green Bay Packers are playing the Chicago Bears (their bitter rivals) this weekend to see which of them are headed for the Super Bowl. Coming from a family of (mostly) hardcore Packer fans, I wouldn't want to lead anyone back there to think I won't be rooting for the green and gold via a fake mustache. Thems would be fightin' whiskers. Anyway, enough football talk.

So after installing The Bruiser, I walked out to greet the wife and kids and was shocked to hear not a single comment about the new 'stache. Not even my 5-year-old daughter acknowledged it. Could it be true? Just four days in and daddy's sudden admittedly odd behavior of wearing a different fake mustache every day had officially (apparently) become "normal" to her. I started to wonder what kind of psychological impact this was having on her, not to mention on my 6-month-old son who has absolutely no clue what's going on and now probably thinks he has 5 different (one without a mustache for those of you who thought I did the math wrong), yet somewhat similar fathers. Ah well, they gotta have something to tell their future psychiatrists, right? Enough about your mother; tell me more about your father ...

Off to work. Someone gave me the simple, yet brilliant idea to get a bucket and set it out so people could drop their donations into it. So I made up a sign, added a couple of my goofiest 'stache-ified pictures to it and put it out in a common area. It worked great -- people really started showing their support, but it also had an unexpected side effect. I'm now known to several people at work (some who I don't think even know my real name) as "Mustache Man" -- as in "Hey, it's mustache man!" I'm a little concerned this name may stick long after this is over ... not sure I want to be remembered as Mustache Man. I did this to myself.

One more thing worth mentioning is the fact that a friend of mine by the name of Bridget McCarthy was nice enough to mention my plight in her own blog and, as a result, I actually got a donation from someone I've never even met. That, my friends, is the power of the internet right there ... very cool indeed. Thank you Bridget and thank you stranger!

So thanks, too, to all of you who have already donated ... it is very much appreciated. We are, generally speaking, at the halfway point of Mustache-a-palooza, with only 3 more days to go. What will tomorrow's be? Something tells me there just might be a new Sheriff in town.

Yee-haw!

Day Three: The Weasel

Today's mustache is called The Weasel and I have a feeling it's not because of anything related to Pauly Shore. No, one look at this slick set of whiskers and I could tell right off that it wouldn't be projecting a very positive image. You wear a 'stache called The Weasel and you can be sure that people are gonna probably think negative things about you ... at least subconsciously. A man with a lip warmer like this is up to no good ... in fact, he's probably up to something dastardly. Turn your back on this guy and next thing you know he's tying you to a railroad track or somethin'. Or maybe he just might ...

... go to Target for some hair gel and contact solution. Okay, so my mundane lunchtime activity today probably didn't do this particular mustache justice, but it did give me a chance to collect some more double-takes and strange looks while I strolled the aisles in search of hair treatment (only now I realize that I should have looked for a mustache comb). I even walked there in order to get maximum mustache exposure.

Per request, I asked someone to take my picture while at Target as (more or less) proof that I am actually doing this out in the wild. At the time, it seemed more crowded where I was having the picture being taken (honest), but perhaps once I turned my back people realized that I was one of those types of people you should steer clear of and quickly dispersed. Only a theory.

On the way back, at a bus stop, an oddly stereotypical Californian stoner-surfer type guy (I didn't even know they still existed ... he seemed like he was straight out of Ridgemont High) jumped out of nowhere and asked me bluntly, "Dude, is that mustache real or fake?" Of course I immediately slapped him and shouted back, "How DARE you!?" Okay maybe I didn't, but ten minutes later I thought of how funny that would have been if I had.

One great thing that has happened since I last typed ... I got my first (and only, so far) donation. So, because of that I can now officially say this hasn't been a complete waste of time. Hooray and thank you! For those who haven't donated yet ... what, do you think I'm just doing this for my own amusement?! Okay, so I kind of am, but a donation would be nice, too.  I was also excited to see that my blog just got it's first "follower", too. Kind of a weird term there -- follower. It sounds like I'm the leader of a cult or something. Well regardless, welcome loyal subject! Now put on your fake mustache and turn to page 42 in our hymnal.

Well, I've had enough fun for today ... it's time to put The Weasel to bed. Yup, I just said that and no, I'm not entirely proud of it.

Day Two: The Square

And we're back again for another rousing edition of Mustache Challenge 2011! 

Today's 'stache du jour was a little ditty known as The Square, assumedly named this because it's style is one that is primarily preferred by the non hip and/or the ungroovy (or me) and not for it's actual shape which, upon first examination is actually rectangle-ish or, upon even closer examination, a trapezoid. That's a little geometry for the kids out there. Another thing to note, if you gaze upon the pictures below, it actually is closer to my actual hair color than The Hollywood was which made it a bit less obvious in it's fakeness ... not necessarily a good thing, though. I picked this one because I could place it well beneath my nose -- after yesterday's tickle-athon, my proboscis needed a serious break.

Anyway, the day started the same as the previous one ... bleary eyed, slightly grumpy (or was it cranky?), but this time I added "lazy" to my morning attributes and chose not to shave. [Fascinating fun fact: Brian does not usually shave every day as he assumes the ladies appreciate a bit of stubble on a guy; he also does not often talk about himself in the third person.] I suppose this goes against the overall theme of the mustache since I would assume that most squares shave daily (hey, maybe I'm not a square after all!). Or perhaps I'm putting way too much thought into this.  After completing the rest of my morning beauty regimen, I slapped that sucker on my upper lip and wandered out to greet the family before heading off to work. My 5-year-old daughter seemed a bit confused that I was wearing yet another fake mustache, but I was able to avert the question by exciting her with the promise that I'd let her have a "mustache fashion show" this weekend so she could try them all on for herself. Yay! Yes, there will be photos taken and posted (and said photos WILL make an appearance, along with several others I have stockpiled over the years, minutes before her first date).

Skip ahead to my work day (because nothing notable happened during my 45 minute commute, which is, believe me, a good thing). Many of my coworkers appeared as confused as my 5-year-old, but I didn't think the offer of a mustache fashion show would work on them so I mostly just smiled and continued on. I figured it's early in the week, I'm sure at some point the curiosity will get the best of them and then I'll give them my salespitch (hey, speaking of that, now would be the perfect time to head on over to that "donate" button at the upper right and support my daughter's school's art and music program!).

People's wildly varied reactions -- that's actually the funniest thing (to me) about this whole mustache silliness I've decide to partake in. I actually had a normal, 5 minute conversation with a coworker today (they were off the day before and were completely unaware of my shenanigans) before they paused a beat and finally said, "So what's up with the mustache?" That's amazing to me ... it took all of my efforts to try to keep a straight face during that first 5 minutes. I also ventured out to lunch today to (product placement) Subway and most of the people behind the counter didn't say a word; though I did get one lady to crack a smile. That said, this is Hollyweird we're talking about -- they've probably seen far crazier things and have learned that it's safer not to say anything. I was tempted to ask to have a photo taken with the manager (so at the very least I could offer some proof that I'm actually doing this), but they were busy and I figured that would be pushing my luck.

In the end, I find myself second-guessing the name of this particular mustache as well. Though upon application I did get a Ned Flanders (of The Simpsons) vibe from it (especially after the addition of the reading glasses I bought originally for my Dwight/Nordbergh Halloween costumes) in the end I think I wound up looking a bit more like Jeff Foxworthy. I do have to admit to a constant desire to say "okalee dokalee" during the day, though.

Well, it's late and I've got to wrap up today's post so I can get going on getting cranky and bleary-eyed for tomorrow morning. Thanks yet again for continuing with me on my journey into merry mustache madness! Be sure to tune in tomorrow for ... The Weasel!

The Informant 2?