Let's be honest, commuting sucks whether you're driving 15 minutes or 1 hour and 15 minutes to get to work (we're in the later boat). I caught Amanda in a fit (honestly, this is as wily as my calm-as-a-nun wife gets) earlier in the week and told her that I would take note of her issues on my phone. I lied. I videotaped it. Enjoy.
Food porn: Picatta di Pollo
A fave from my days cooking at the old man's restaurant. Amanda kinda sorta demanded I make it, or else.
Mustache Discrimination
Have you seen those undercover TV shows where skinny, universally attractive women put on "fat suits" and go out into the public eye to be scrutinized, always to their surprise? This week I put on my fat suit equivalent -- a mustache -- and the results were just as startling. Before I divulge, I should note that I shaved down to the stache to inspire morale around a Mustache Madness contest I've been working on at the office. So, I rolled into work on Monday looking something like this:
Notice the pine needle-like hairs and the width just outside the upper lip. It was an 80s masterpiece. It was real.
I knew I'd get some good looks at work, but I had no idea that people would treat me like an entirely different person. I felt like I had put the fat suit on! Interestingly, the reactions I received seemed to divide down gender lines.
Feedback I got from men:
- "Dude, that is awesome. My facial hair only grows as a goatee. I can't even get my cheeks going."
- "That is frickin' awesome. YES!!!"
- "Let that go long enough that you can gel it into some curls."
Feedback I got from women:
- "You look like a creeper, dude. A serious creeper."
- "I can't talk to you today. I can't even look at you."
- "How does your mustache look so blonde and come in lighter than your eyebrows?"
In summary, the guys respected the mustache and the women despised it. I managed to keep the mustache through Tuesday, but by the end of day two it was in the interest of maintaining all of my female relationships that I shave the stache immediately.
I know what you're thinking: What was your wife's reaction? Amanda was actually the best sport! She told me in several iterations "You look weird," but she put up with it and it's probably not the worst she's seen of me. I'm sure she'd take a full-time mustache for more foot massages.
I learned a few things through this experience: I still have a few years ahead of me before I can grow a mature mustache in the model of the great mustaches that came before, like those donned by Burt Reynolds, Tom Selleck, John Oats, Sonny Bono, Freddie Mercury and Geraldo Rivera. As a society, we still have a lot of work to do to accept people of all mustache-growing capabilities and accept people for their facial hair shapes, colors and size. I'm proud that I was able to expose these challenges in the hopes that all men will be accepted and celebrated for their mustaches one day.
Finally, I learned that mustache should not return. I did look like a creeper!
Surviving Squaw Valley by Skis
I had a blast exploring Squaw last Friday before a work event. However, the problem with skiing at a new place is not knowing exactly where you're going. After following a group out behind a chairlift, I came up to a lot of signs that said "Danger Cliffs." The signs didn't lie. I ended up dropping through a chute that definitely pushed my abilities, but I got down without a fall and some cousin of grace.
That was the chute down the center. This was my relief.
And this was what was left ahead of me. Awesomeness!
Here are a couple more shots of Squaw Valley. You can see Shirley Lake in the distance.
Off the Bucket List: Skiing Alta and Jackson Hole
I have a fairly amazing job on regular days when I'm in the office for eight hours. I just plain live the good life on work trips like the one I had last weekend. In between events, I got some great ski days in with my new frolleagues (friend + colleague; credit Mark Moh for coining the term) Nick, Sarah and Kent. I'll let the pictures tell the story. Alta!!! The deepest snow I've ever encountered. Chest deep!
Jackson Hole!
