Eulogy for a Beard

James had a job interview today---a white shirt and tie, clean-shaven kind of interview.

So last night we had a brief "goodbye to the beard" party, mostly to make sure the boys would still recognize their daddy.

James set up a chair so Ji could see the process very clearly. Boo was standing on another chair, but it broke about ten minutes into the farewell gathering. I held onto Baby who was most excited to be by the mirror.

And James turned on his clippers.

Buzz, buzz, buzz---down one cheek, sideburn left intact.
Little hands rub the shaven fuzz.

Buzz down the other cheek.
"Am I still me?" Daddy asks.

Baby smiles at his daddy.

"Mustache or goatee next?"
One says goatee. All is gone but a tiny strip at the chin.

"Mustache!" the other cries.
Clip, clip---the mustache is gone.

"Who is this man?" Baby wonders.
"Why is his smile familiar?"
Baby feels shy and hides from the stranger.
Stares at the stranger with his daddy's voice, then hides again.

Daddy takes his baby's hand and rubs the last of the beard,
"It's me, Daddy."
Baby recognizes Daddy from his beard and smiles.

"It's just so different," Boo cannot stop herself from saying. 

White cream smothered on face inspires Ji to call out "Joker!"
White face, red lips, and a smile.

It was a good beard:
The beard of an innkeeper.
The beard of a teacher.
The beard of a writer.
The beard of a brother.
The beard of a husband.
The beard of a father.

The beard will be back. It can't be helped. The beard wants to grow.

HairStories

It's funny that the primary way we identify people is by their hair since hair is the easiest part of our appearance to change. We tend to describe people as "the red-haired woman" or the "dark-haired man with goatee." Of course, goatees can be shaven; hair can be dyed. I've been unrecognizable to people I've seen every day of my life because of a drastic hair change.

Me? I'm always a long-blonde-haired person.

Mostly always.

I was a long-haired little girl:

Adults would notice me because of all of that hair. Since I was a quiet and shy child, the attention would embarrass me--but I loved having long hair.

When I was twelve, my aunt cut off all of my hair at my request. My mom was so upset she cried. It would have been better if I had talked to her about it first. I think she would have been all right if our family weren't having such a hard time. That was the first time I changed my hair as a protest for all that was wrong in my life.

The short hair didn't last. It was long again by the time I was fourteen. I had Michelle Phillips hair, the ultimate hippy hairstyle. During the adolescent madness (or brilliance!) of my sixteenth year, I recruited a friend to help me dye my hair pink.

I felt like a Krystal Princess. Again, my mom was terribly upset. I can't blame her too much for that. It took about two months for the dye to wash out. 

The next drastic change came just before my eighteenth birthday when I cut several inches from my hair and permed it for the first time. It was a fun hairstyle, but my hair is a little too heavy for spiral curls. So it ended up wavy within a couple of months. By the time I started college the next fall, I (once again) had long blonde hippy hair.

Over the next few years I had a pretty steady pattern of cut off a few inches, grow several inches, trim, cut, leave long. It was always past my shoulders and mostly straight and always blonde. People recognized me from a distance by my hair.

2003 was a pretty bad year for me. That's the year I ran off to Florida "for an adventure" and met the man who would end up my ex-husband. I had already started off the year by creating some new ex-boyfriends, so I can't say romance was my strength that year. The best indication that I was going through some drastic period was when I cut off thirteen inches of hair and permed the rest.

I let my hair grow out again. As usual.

But a divorce seemed a good time for a change. My sister and I had found some really lovely photos of women with deep red hair and fringe. I hadn't had bangs for years. Well, maybe I had. They grow away so quickly, I don't remember. But the divorce took forever, so I delayed the hair change. When it did finalize, I threw myself a party (James was one of my guests). I was teaching two classes that semester, working on the first chapter of my thesis, and starting to spend a lot of time with James, so I delayed the drastic hair change until just before finals. James was pretty overwhelmed by the bright red dye.

So was my poor mother. (I think I've tortured her enough with my hair changes for a lifetime.)

It had faded by the time he came back from Ohio for Christmas break. Plus, his beard had grown in. We were hair happy.

Last summer was my latest drastic change. It came from pure exhaustion over brushing my long locks. So, I asked my friend Grace to cut them all off, and I sent another ponytail to Locks of Love.

A few days ago Boo was at her friend's house and gained several stripes of pink and turquoise throughout her golden brown hair. I admit I'm a little envious, but I need to keep my hair conservative for work.

And people always mistake Ji for a little girl because of his long, curly golden brown hair. I know we need to trim it, but how can I take scissors those curls?

Summer term started a few weeks ago, so James cut his hair and beard. His time as an actor and male model is closing down. He may not be mistaken for a Muslim or homeless man once he has a short beard and hair, but he's still recognizable to our children. I worry the most for Ji if he ever shaves his beard completely. I think Ji will search everywhere for his daddy.

Mostly Cozy: Photos and Adventures

Baby is scooting and rolling around the floor. Boo and Ji are running through the sprinklers. I'm still in my jammies, listening to Baby gurgle and sing. James is fixing our vent covers since it's June and we're freezing from the air conditioning upstairs.

A few days ago, my brother-in-law told me that I might have more than four readers. That was sort of exciting news. So, sitting here in our cozy living room, I decided I should share some photos and thoughts from the last few weeks.

Halfway through May, we celebrated James's thirtieth birthday. In the spirit of Abbie Hoffman, he declared it was the Never Trust Anyone Over Thirty party.

We are fortunate to have good friends and family who are amazing artists.

Our friend Jeremy is a balloon artist extraordinaire. (He's the famous Balloon Guy.)

He also created this life-size portrait of James as the circus strong man:

If you want to see something even more impressive, watch his Balloon Bag End video.

Our friends Jen and Mark, who are both professional illustrators, came and created terrific caricatures for our guests:

Their oldest daughter decided to join in the fun.

You can see how they really captured their subjects.

James's sister Elisabeth is a fantastic henna artist (and photographer) and shared her talents.

Boo's fortune telling booth was wildly successful.

She would have her guest close his or her eyes and hold out a hand while she cracked open a fortune cookie and read the fortune. The guest was then given the fortune and the cookie. She came up with the idea herself. I'm so proud.


James decided he and I needed to man a booth for Limericks. Who doesn't want to be the subject of a bizarre, possibly insulting, poem?

James was the much more prolific limericist. I roamed around a lot, and I'm much slower. James's genius is quite unparalleled. Here's a sample:

Mark gathers and hunts at DI
With his weapon: a very sharp eye
He'll find games or a toy
From a girl or a boy
Who'll come home from their mission and cry.


Pin the tail on the pinata is all the rage this year. . .

 

Followed closely by pinata futbol.

 

 Which one is the real James?

All in all, it was a truly fantastic party.

If having a big party weren't enough for May, we thought we might as well spend some time with our family in California.


Boo and Ji spent the first day in Pawan and Mahavir's pool.

Uncle Mahavir was a good tiger with Ji and taught Boo games on his phone.

Our adventure day was at the Los Angeles Zoo. (I know it's not the San Diego Zoo, Dave, but we couldn't put our children through all those extra hours on the road.)

 

 

 

Mona's wedding was awesome, of course.

 

 

 

The newest family members were glad to meet each other.

Brothers together

Boo adores her Aunt Lizzy

Uncle Paul was as dedicated a photographer as the one they hired.

Grandma and Bapuji with Baby

Nacheter Uncle, Harjinder Uncle, Surinderpal Uncle, Kulwinder Auntie, Mohinder, Bapuji with Baby, Bacheter Uncle, Balbir Auntie. Quite a group!

Mona and KP, the bride and groom

Beautiful sisters: Sheila, Janice, Vilo, and Susan

Pawan has assured us she's kidnapping our children. (James is supposed to be photoshopped out of this picture.)

We went north from the wedding and spent time with our newest nephew.

 

And Grandma Vilo is always the best storyteller.

 

We spent Memorial Day in the magic of Muir Woods. It is a faeryland.

 

 

 

 

My little geese in the goosepen tree.

 

 

 

It was a fantastic two weeks. Needless to say, we were exhausted and happy by the time we returned.

We are indebted to the family who let us stay in their homes and so generously invited us into their lives.

We are looking forward to more adventures this summer. :)