It’s been two weeks since I last shaved. How does it look? Suffice it it to say that I look like an extra in a Zombie apocalypse movie, or for my older readers, I very much resemble Humphrey Bogart in the African Queen. I haven’t had a haircut since the 3rd of March which only adds to the stranded on a deserted island look. I could allow Pam a turn at giving me a trim, and, I could shave. But I choose this version of myself for the moment. Why? Because frankly, it feels right. Call it my protest beard.
Don’t misunderstand. I’m not “protesting” against government overreach or bureaucratic incompetence. I’m kinda over that. I’m not even protesting the orgy of corporate greed on display as publicly traded companies with full access to capital markets gobble up stimulus money designed for small, closely held businesses...greed being an ancient vice, nothing new under the sun and all that. No, I’m just protesting the giant, unmitigated disaster that 2020 has become. I figure if this entire year is going to slouch along in such an unkempt, disheveled, thoroughly unbuttoned fashion, why shouldn’t I??
But, I am supposed to be a professional man. Consequently, I feel a twang of guilt when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, enough to make me question the whole no shaving thing but not enough to make me change my behavior. So, like all emotionally conflicted people, I have constructed a compromise...just for today. Wednesday’s agenda does not include any FaceTime appointments. Today is full of case planning, bill paying, and an online continuing education course, all of which could be done in my underwear. Instead, I have decided to get dressed up today. For the first time in over two months, I am going to put on dress pants, a dress shirt, real shoes and socks and see if I have forgotten how to tie a tie. Yes my friends, I am going to dress like I used to dress for a face to face appointment with human beings back before the Coronavirus. I can only hope that I don’t get pulled over by a cop on my way to work:
Me: Yes, Officer? I feel certain that I was going the posted speed limit.
Cop: What? Are you some sort of wise guy? Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?
Me: Like...what?
Cop: What’s that thing around your neck?!
Me: It’s a silk tie.
Cop: So, you going to a funeral or something? You expect me to believe you’re headed to church??
Me: No no...I’m going into the office. It’s just around the corner.
Cop: Out of the car please!! And keep those hands where I can see ‘em! Wait...you’re wearing dress shoes, with SOCKS? That’s it buddy. I’ll have to take you in for questioning.
Me: But I’m not...
Cop: Save it for the judge, fancy pants!!
LOL you're hilarious! Emotionally conflicted people? Let's start a club. Oh wait, you'll have to set up a Zoom first because we would definitely be arrested if all the emotionally conflicted people met at one time in one place (is there a place big enough to hold all the emotionally conflicted?! Okay, skip the club. Just keep writing. Ah, that's what it is - you look like an Ernest Hemingway wasting away again in Margaritaville writing some great fiction - when the mood strikes! Carry on!
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