Greg Price

At the rate I’m going, it’s going to be very easy to fill out my Christmas wish list for this year.
I’ve been more nice than naughty, and so Santa’s list for me could now be expanded to add a mustache comb, Just For Men or barber’s scissors, but only if some more donations start coming in.
You see, the editorial staff at The Taber Times has decided to grow facial hair in honour of Movember. But given the pittance we’ve received, despite postings in the new papers and mass e-mails, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth it.
I started growing my facial hair right after Halloween and I must say, I haven’t really done it with the spirit of Movember in mind, which is a fundraiser for prostate cancer.
I’ve already broken the rules in that you are only supposed to grow a mustache, not a full facial combo like I’m rocking with ‘stache and beard in tow.
But really, does Taber need to see me in just a mustache? I have a job reporting news and I am willing to bet if I had grown only a mustache, I’d be pinned up at the Taber Police Service next to suspicious-looking people who should not be allowed to roam anywhere small children are, like playgrounds, the swimming pool or schools.
If I grew just a mustache I’d probably give off one of those vibes of those late ’70s, late night-fare where women open the door in their lingerie as I enter the room with whispy ‘stache in tow, asking where the T.V. is that needs repairing, all the to a cheesy soundtrack playing in the background.
I may just pare it down to a goatee, but no siree will it likely be just a mustache. I have a sister with a young niece I like Skyping, and in no way do I need her running away in horror seeing the soup strainer.
But to reiterate, unless a few more donations come in, the woolly mammoth that is on my face currently is going to be extinct. As of Monday, the Taber Times team has only managed to raise $70. So my fellow Taberites, if you have not already donated to the cause somewhere else, get off your wallets and help a brotha out.
This is very hard for a person who has never grown facial hair in their lifetime (laziness of five o’clock shadow from not having shaved for a few days does not count). About the only advantage I’ve seen so far is that I look deeper in thought when I stroke my beard thinking, ‘Is that milk still good in the back of my fridge, I’m thinking of doing the breakfast for supper thing tonight with the Count Chocula.’
I’m still waiting on the advice from my more furry brethren of the time when I grow this out enough that it isn’t itchy anymore. You can still see me on occasion scratching away at it, as if I need to be deloused hankering down in my fox hole for too long after WW III breaks out.
Walking around the golf course a couple of weeks ago, I swear someone was going to drop some coins in my cup, thinking I was homeless with my scruffy self. With how unruly it’s getting right now, I’m afraid I’m going to get a lemon pepper wing caught in there during Wing Wednesday at the Tank. I’m sure the ‘How is your quest for fire going’ jokes are just around the corner.
My one sole solace right now is the facial hair is coming in pretty full and thick without those missing patches with people who can’t grow facial hair and the people around them scream sarcastically ‘ahhhhhhh... Wolfman!’
But I don’t know if the red-bearded Viking look is for me, so please give generously... before I change my mind.
The Taber Times team can be found at www.mobro/teamtimes to give a donation.