The Grand Experiment

The really tragic thing about pencil-thin mustaches is that the better looking the man it’s on, the more it makes him look like Schneider on “One Day at a Time.”  My best friend and I were just having this conversation yesterday.  She had been watching some classic films and talking about the ruination of some matinee idol from the ’30s after he tried to work the caterpillar.  I was reminded of when the audience nearly lynched Craig Ferguson for growing one, and he still moans about it.  One of our favorite musicians, Bryan Fer*y (name asterisked for security reasons – don’t ask) was unable to stop himself from trotting out the look in ’76 and his dignity was saved only by the accompanying very strict looking uniform and completely incongruous designedly stilted stage personnae.  Nonetheless, we all breathed a sigh of relief when that era had passed.

Speaking of incongruous, something reminded me of one of my favorite movie lines, by Andy Hardy:  “The beginning was when debutants started to wear strapless evening gowns.”   It’s funny because it’s true.  For me, it all started the first time I saw John Kaye of Steppenwolf in leather pants.  I never really got over it.

Sorry about that.

An old not-at-all-serious boyfriend of mine once sprouted a Le Pew ‘stache.  I think I may even have a “photo machine” strip of us when he had that, and we look like Schneider and MacKenzie Phillips, only sexy.  Not really. 

Anyway, for some reason, ever since my friend brought up the subject, for some reason, I can’t get the song “Aqualung” out of my head.  I don’t know why that is, but I’m sure there’s some reason.

I was just reading a list of famous people with mustaches, and I’d like to think that if I’d known Guy de Maupassant, I would have loved him on the merits of his prose alone, but who’s to say.  My excuse is I’m part Cherokee, and indians didn’t have much body or facial hair, so I am genetically inocculated against men with mustaches.  That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

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