Tag Archives: The Daily Beast

Hair today, gone tomorrow: Ugly on the face of it


When I was not quite 19 and in fall term of my sophomore year in college I returned home for Thanksgiving dinner, bringing a housemate with me. I’d been growing a beard since beginning of term, two months before.

At dinner (and beforehand, while bustling over the Brussels sprouts and mashed potatoes in the kitchen) my mother kept staring at me oddly, as if something strange was going on and it just wasn’t quite computing. Finally I asked her what was wrong.

“You have a smudge on the side of your face,” she said.

She wasn’t kidding. I was crushed. So much for my hirsute abilities — and I heard that line repeated, with guffaws, for the rest of the school year from my turncoat housemate.

At last Monday’s Drammy Awards I ran into actor Todd Van Voris, who’d been playing Andrey Prozorov, the henpecked brother, in Tracy Letts’ adaptation of Three Sisters at Artists Repertory Theatre, and was sporting a suitably Chekhovian growth.

“How long until you get to shave?” I asked him.

“One more week!” he replied enthusiastically.

Then he added that it never fails: In the dead of winter he’s cast as someone clean-shaven and maybe even bald-pated; once the weather turns warm he’s cast as someone with facial hair in full sprout.

Apparently he can do full sprout.

In the movies, of course, you don’t have to grow ’em, although of course you can if you want. If you don’t, makeup will cheerfully slap a facial growth on you. That’s why I liked this post (the photo montage above is just a sneak peek) from The Daily Beast, of the worst movie facial-hair moments. You could adapt this to country-western singers and male perfume and underwear models, too — those guys who have the perfect two-day stubbles around their gorgeously dimpled chins no matter what. John Travolta is a double winner (or double loser) in the Daily Beast sweepstakes, but I’m quite fond of the Jack Black growth, too.

P.S.: I’ve been wearing a beard for most of the past 40 years. Every now and again someone looks at me and says, “When did you start growing a beard?” I refer them to my mother.

Happy 200th birthday, Abe — honestly!

A bouquet for Abe/Laura Grimes

Today is Abraham Lincoln’s 200th birthday, and as you might have noticed, he’s been getting a lot of press lately.

Books, books, books about him. Revisionist theories, counter-revisionist theories, bunkings and debunkings and outright frivolities such as Christopher Buckley’s spoof of Lincolnmania at The Daily Beast.

We don’t mind. We like Abe.
(I know, I know: We’re supposed to like Ike. He’s looking better these days, too.) And we especially like the little private celebration that occurs every year on this date at the Lincoln statue in downtown Portland’s South Park Blocks, near the Portland Art Museum. That’s where Friend of Scatter Laura Grimes discovered this bouquet of thanks this afternoon and quickly commemorated it with her cell phone, a year to the day after one of our very first posts, also on the subject of Ms. Grimes’ encounter with this selfsame statue. Thanks, Laura.

And happy birthday, Abe. Thanks for the guidance. We’re still trying to get it right.