Monday, October 16, 2006
My little brother is officially white trash. He's trying to grow a ratty little goatee, thus making him the first male in my immediate family to attempt such a feat. He reminds me of a high school sophomore with one of those bad teenage mustaches, only this once covers a bit more real estate.
Goatees, in and of themselves, border on white trash, unless you're one of only a handful of men who can pull them off. Guys with really dark hair can do it. Really hard-core guys, regardless of hair color, are entitled to grow them. And any non-white male has the right, since they don't have to worry about being white trash because they're not white.
My brother somehow avoided the red hair curse that afflicts my sister, older brother, and me, but he still doesn't have a goatee-worthy hair color. I'd call his hair dirty blonde, and his facial hair is an unnatural gold color, like the color of those Sacagawea golden dollars that no one uses. It looks like he was huffing gold spray paint from a paper cone behind the hardware store downtown and all that's left is the golden residue. He looks like he's trying to be cool, which, I guess, he is. And that's even more annoying than the stubby little yellow hairs.
My older brother and I both have enough social consciousness not to even attempt growing anything on our faces. We're not cruel, and forcing the rest of the world to stare at whatever reddish creations we'd happen to grow would be unethical. While I got the better end of it, with hair that can pass for brown in bad light, I still wouldn't consider it.
There are only two types of redheads who can pull off having facial hair: vikings, and pirates. In their heyday, Vikings could get away with pretty much anything, pillaging Northern Europe almost as a form of amusement. Since Gillette had yet to invent the Mach 3 razor, I'm sure shaving wasn't a big priority, so they're forgiven. And pirates...can't you just imagine a Captain Redbeard? He'd have a single-shot pistol in his belt, a puffy black hat, and a green parrot on one shoulder, along with a long red beard, braided, of course. Arrr matey! A guy like that could pull it off. Since vikings and pirates are both extinct, no redhead on the planet is entitled to grow facial hair. Sorry guys. You were cursed at birth, and this is part of it. Same goes for you blonde guys. We don't want to see it.
My mom told me not to say anything to my brother about the little rat that's been growing in our home for the past week. I'm sure he'll be too lazy to maintain it and it will disappear soon enough. But until then, since I'm already white trash by association, I might as well enjoy it. I'm heading down to the gas station in my tank-top and mullet to get some potato logs, a sixer of Natural Light, and a pack of smokes. Then I'll relax on a beat-up sofa on the front porch, blasting a cassette tape of Def Leppard and dreaming of fat chicks who are too trashy to know that big bangs and hot-pink tube tops died back in the Reagan administration.
Goatees, in and of themselves, border on white trash, unless you're one of only a handful of men who can pull them off. Guys with really dark hair can do it. Really hard-core guys, regardless of hair color, are entitled to grow them. And any non-white male has the right, since they don't have to worry about being white trash because they're not white.
My brother somehow avoided the red hair curse that afflicts my sister, older brother, and me, but he still doesn't have a goatee-worthy hair color. I'd call his hair dirty blonde, and his facial hair is an unnatural gold color, like the color of those Sacagawea golden dollars that no one uses. It looks like he was huffing gold spray paint from a paper cone behind the hardware store downtown and all that's left is the golden residue. He looks like he's trying to be cool, which, I guess, he is. And that's even more annoying than the stubby little yellow hairs.
My older brother and I both have enough social consciousness not to even attempt growing anything on our faces. We're not cruel, and forcing the rest of the world to stare at whatever reddish creations we'd happen to grow would be unethical. While I got the better end of it, with hair that can pass for brown in bad light, I still wouldn't consider it.
There are only two types of redheads who can pull off having facial hair: vikings, and pirates. In their heyday, Vikings could get away with pretty much anything, pillaging Northern Europe almost as a form of amusement. Since Gillette had yet to invent the Mach 3 razor, I'm sure shaving wasn't a big priority, so they're forgiven. And pirates...can't you just imagine a Captain Redbeard? He'd have a single-shot pistol in his belt, a puffy black hat, and a green parrot on one shoulder, along with a long red beard, braided, of course. Arrr matey! A guy like that could pull it off. Since vikings and pirates are both extinct, no redhead on the planet is entitled to grow facial hair. Sorry guys. You were cursed at birth, and this is part of it. Same goes for you blonde guys. We don't want to see it.
My mom told me not to say anything to my brother about the little rat that's been growing in our home for the past week. I'm sure he'll be too lazy to maintain it and it will disappear soon enough. But until then, since I'm already white trash by association, I might as well enjoy it. I'm heading down to the gas station in my tank-top and mullet to get some potato logs, a sixer of Natural Light, and a pack of smokes. Then I'll relax on a beat-up sofa on the front porch, blasting a cassette tape of Def Leppard and dreaming of fat chicks who are too trashy to know that big bangs and hot-pink tube tops died back in the Reagan administration.
