How Growing a Mustache Changed My Life

Growing a mustache is a lot like having a kid—it's a life-altering experience that teaches you about love, heartbreak and teeny, tiny combs. When I set off on this quest, I was young, immature, irresponsible and reckless. Just 30 days and one thick lip-sweater later, I can honestly say I've changed.

Now I'm young, immature, irresponsible and reckless ... and mega-handsome.

In the beginning, I knew there would be risks. After only three days of growth, my sisters-in-law called me out on Facebook: "I seriously can't believe that's all u have. Thought for sure it'd grow faster" and "I agree with Mel, I thought it would be full by now." How could they expect me to grow a mustache that fast? Was I letting them (and everyone else) down? After hours of contemplation, I could come up with only two possible explanations:  Either 1) They were kidding around or 2) Their leg hair must grow at a ridiculously fast pace. To this day I'm torn between the choices.

There were other hurdles as well. Every morning we had to set aside 25 seconds for my beautiful wife to take my daily head-shot photo. This eventually turned into a 6-minute affair because both girls wanted to be in the picture with me. They'd stand on each of my sides, lean against the faded yellow dining room wall, smile big, look right at the camera and saying "CHEESE!" Of course, neither seemed to realize that my wife had the camera pointed at my head—and they weren't actually in the photo. But that didn't mean they weren't a valuable part of my morning ritual. They were overjoyed to be included in my mustache journey, and I was overjoyed to have them along.

My work life changed a bit too. Coworkers who stopped by my cube on a regular basis were now bringing friends to catch a glimpse of the spectacular-ness of my face. Some chatted up mustache etiquette while others shared stories of family members who had grown their own "mos." All of them, though, would stick around for a few extra minutes to see if my mustache did anything magical, like curl before their very eyes or transport us both to one of those calming, beach-themed Corona commercials. Nearly always, it did—and they walked away impressed.

Over the past month, I've learned a lot about myself. I learned how to set goals and stick to them, a quality I hope to pass on to my kids. I learned that my wife will still love me, no matter how ridiculous—or, in this case, awesome—I look. Most important, I learned that I have wonderful friends, family and Life of Dad fans who took time out of their busy schedules to "like" my mustache updates on Facebook, send me supportive comments and e-mails, read my mustache posts and compare my face to that of a budding young porn star. For all of these (and all the other support you always offer), I will forever be grateful.

This concludes my month-long Movember quest to grow a mustache and raise money/awareness for Prostate Cancer (if you haven't already, there's still time to make a tax-deductible donation to my team). It's been a lot of fun and I hope you were able to get a few laughs out of it as well. Tomorrow is shaving day and my face will return to its normal level of awesomeness. (I know, I know—my eyes are tearing up at the thought too.)

In these final hours before Hector is set free to go and grow into a full beard and make some other family happy (yep, I named the mustache Hector), I'm reminded of a classic mustache-shaving song that's stood the test of time to become one of the greatest mustache-shaving songs of all-time: "End of the Road" by Boyz II Men.

"Although we've come
To the end of the road.
Still I can't let go.
It's unnatural.
You belong to me.
I belong to you."

So long, my friend. Until we meet again in Movember 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Missed my daily Movember progress and diary? Check it out by visiting
the About Movember tab at the top or by clicking here. 

 

The Life of Dad is updated every week. Thanks for stopping by and following my attempts to be a good dad, husband and co-ed softball player. I hope you visit again. -- Brian

How to Tell Your Boss You're Growing a Mustache

It can be a difficult task telling your boss and coworkers that you are growing a mustache. When you do share the news, most of them will be happy for you, saying things like "Congratulations!" and "Your wife must be so excited!" and "Was this planned?" But they will undoubtedly start to consider how this may affect them, so you will need to take several things into consideration before letting everyone in the office know that, by the end of the month, you'll be the proud father of a glorious mustache.

To help with this, I've developed list of the three most Frequently Asked Questions, along with answers, on how to tell your boss and coworkers that you're growing a mustache.

FAQ#1: When is the right time to tell?
It's a general rule-of-thumb for men to wait until after the first trimester to share the news, when the risk of Turns-Out-I-Can't-Really-Grow-A-Mustache-Even-Though-I-Thought-I-Could- Syndrome (also known as "CantGrowNoMo") passes. If you are dealing with a bad case of CantGrowNoMo, you'll likely be very emotional. It may be in your best interest to take a day or two off work and come to terms with the fact that you may never be able to grow a mustache. And, if need be, search the phonebook for local CantGrowNoMo support groups.

When the first trimester ends and you've established some healthy mustache growth (and are confident a full mustache is imminent), it may be time to spread the news.

FAQ#2: What if the boss asks before I'm ready to tell?
Most members of management are taught not to ask questions like this and to be sensitive to their employees' personal lives. Occasionally, though, a boss may slip—I mean, hey, bosses aren't perfect (Except for mine. She's perfect. She's totally perfect. She couldn't be more perfect if she tried. Have I told you how perfect you look today, boss?). In the event your boss mistakenly says something, it's important to be prepared.

If your boss confronts you and asks you point blank, "Are you growing a mustache?" keep in mind you do not have to let him or her know if you aren't ready. Simply turn to your boss and say, "I have no news to share at this time." This is a flexible response that is not a lie (lying to your boss is very bad) and also allows you to deliver the news on your terms (via Twitter).

FAQ#3: I'm afraid of what my boss will say. What should I do?
Unfortunately, some employers are less than enlightened about mustachioed employees. If you're concerned about your employer's reaction, proceed cautiously.

Remember, it's acceptable to wait to tell your boss until your mustache has secured 14-20 days of growth. This allows you to point out that you've already demonstrated that you can successfully do your job while having a mustache.

Also, consider timing your announcement to coincide with the completion of a major project. By doing so, you'll send a strong message: I'm almost halfway through growing a mustache and my productivity hasn't been affected. Finally, you may want to wait to tell your boss about your mustache until after a salary or performance review to make sure the news doesn't influence how you're treated. Of course, if your boss is a handsome, mustachioed man or a woman who thinks mustaches are super sexy, then it may be advantageous to divulge the news during the review. It may also be advantageous to take off your shirt.

Take into account this advice before making your announcement. Who knows—your boss and coworkers may be thrilled with the news and may even offer to take you out to lunch or throw you a surprise Mustache Shower, where they "shower" you with gifts off you Mustache Registry (I'll cover this next week). And if you're still worried, then just quit. There's always a job for you in the adult entertainment industry.

Also, don't forget to check out my daily progress and diary by visiting
the About Movember tab at the top or by clicking here.

Reasons Not to Grow a Mustache:  

Your boss' husband recently had an affair with a mustachioed man.

Reasons to Grow a Mustache: 

Super Mario 

The Life of Dad is updated every week. Thanks for stopping by and following my attempts to be a good dad, husband and co-ed softball player. I hope you visit again. -- Brian

Growing a Mustache Week 1: The First Trimester

When I first hatched the idea to grow a mustache for Movember, I received a lukewarm response from my wife. Sure, she had dreamed of one day marrying the type of man who had a good job, would treat her well and could raise a happy, healthy mustache. But she still saw the mustache as something we weren't ready for yet. Something we weren't financially prepared for. She made excuses as to why now wasn't the right time:

• I'm too focused on my career to give it the kind of attention it needs. 
• I'm nervous to bring anything into the world in THIS economy. 
• What will the kids think of the new addition?
• Are you sure we're mature enough to raise a mustache?

As if these same concerns hadn't crossed my mind; but it was time to throw those worries away. At 31 years, I was not getting any younger. My mustache clock was ticking. It. Was. Time. With a little help from our good friend, Cabernet Sauvignon, my wife and I agreed—together—to take the leap. So on Halloween we kissed for the last time as DINMs (Double Income, No Mustaches).

The next morning our prayers were answered and my upper lip tested positive for mustache growth. We were so happy! I called family and friends to share the good word. I posted to Facebook for the entire world to see. I even attempted to create a Twitter account to "tweet" our news, though apparently MustacheMania had already been taken.

At first I felt like a superstar because everyone showered me with compliments. "I'm so happy for you guys," they'd say. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer couple." Women gave us hugs. Men would give me the half-handshake, half-hug. Some weathered men, who watched their own mustaches grow up over the years, shared tales about how their little ones eventually fell in love with a pretty little razor and left home—much to the heartbreak of their family. Even one guy joked that, after 35 years, his mustache was still living under his roof, living by his rules.

When the excitement of the news finally died down a bit, the symptoms started kicking in. Fatigue. Nausea. An urge to crush beer cans on my head. I noticed changes—emotionally and physically. Emotionally: I wanted to yell extra loud at the TV as my favorite sports teams fumbled their ways into crushing defeats. I wanted to say "Nice buns" and wink at my wife each time she waltzed by me (though I used all my willpower to refrain). Physically: I started retaining water, not to mention the fact that my potatoes began to swell.

This process was proving more difficult than I had originally thought.

Next came the hunger cravings: mostly big slabs of meat, Slim Jims and jelly (who knew?). I drank more beer—and none of that light stuff, only the calorie-filled leaded beer—because it helps fertilize the mustache for thicker growth. And, just as the doctor recommended, I cut back on watching "Glee"—part because musicals can stunt growth and cause mustache defects, part because it was a rerun this week.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to face these early challenges alone. My daughters—bless their hearts—did their best to comfort me, giving me hugs and kisses, while offering to grow their own mustaches in a sign of support (I didn't have the heart to tell them, but it's the thought that counts). They also generously offered to "watch as many episodes of Dora as needed in order to stay out of my hair." Bless their hearts indeed.

As I near the end of week one, I've noticed many of the symptoms are fading away. The morning sickness is gone, and some even say I now have a special glow about me, an extra skip in my step. I'm beginning to see some results and, according to the medical journals, the growth is in line with what's to be expected during the mustache's first trimester. And from what most men tell me, it only gets better from here.

I wonder if that means I can start watching "Glee" again?

Also, don't forget to check out my daily progress and diary by visiting the About Movember tab at the top or by clicking here. 

Reasons Not to Grow a Mustache:  

Your girlfriend already has one—and it's nicer than yours.

Reasons to Grow a Mustache: 

Tom Selleck

The Life of Dad is updated every week. Thanks for stopping by and following my attempts to be a good dad, husband and co-ed softball player. I hope you visit again. -- Brian

A Movember to Remember: The Diary of One Man's Quest to Grow a Mustache

I've done a lot of crazy things in my life—jumped into a bush, funneled a beer, bought Crystal Clear Pepsi—but the one wild thing I've never done but always wanted to do was grow a mustache.

A thick, grizzly, glorious mustache.

One that fills men with envy and ladies with lust.

The type of mustache that, when you look at yourself in the mirror, causes you to forget to put on pants because all you can see is reflection perfection.

That's right. Reflection. Perfection.

Before I was a Dad, I'd gone through the annual "We Should Grow Mustaches" ritual that all men make in the smoky confines of their favorite pub. That evening always plays out the same way: It's late. You're at the bar shooting pool with your buddies. A row of empty shot glasses clear the path for one of your friends to make that bold, prophetic statement that one of your friends always makes:

"You know what I need to do? Grow a mustache."

Like a choir of off-key tubas, the rest of the guys enthusiastically support this idea: "Hell yes! We're in." After 10 minutes of rock bumps, chest-thumping and the occasional foot high-five (also known as the "Tripped-And-Fell") you and your friends throw back a binding shot as a solemn vow that, starting the next morning, you will all grow a manly mustache.

But no one ever does. Instead of growing a magical "mo", the next morning is filled with a typical bucket of lousy excuses. "My employer won't let me." "I forgot." "Sorry I puked in your car."

Now I know what you're thinking: You're a Dad; that means you can grow a Dad'Stache no matter what. It's your right. Not so. I learned from several credible sources that you don't just get to grow a Dad'Stache, you must earn the right to grow one. (Or you must have started to grow it before 1974.) After learning this it was with a heavy heart that I resigned myself to the fact that I would never, ever grow a mustache from scratch. That was, until a few months ago when I learned of this spectacular event called "Movember."

Movember is a month-long event starting November 1 where men across the world grow a mustache to raise money for prostate cancer research (oh yes, it's real). You start clean-shaven, then "grow a mo." All donations go directly to efforts to save men's manly parts (and lives). Because of this, I've decided to take a pledge and ask you to join me.

I, BRIAN A. KLEMS, founder, CEO and gardener of The Life of Dad, vow not to shave my upper lip for the next 30 days starting Movember 1, growing the most manly Man'Stache I can. I will document each day's growth on the blog here in the About Movember tab and in a rotating box of photos on the right so you can see my progress. I will also enter weekly, diary-style updates, so you can follow along on my quest.

I've already added a link with a logo on the right-hand side of this blog where you can donate to the cause if you like. Donate $10. Donate $20. Donate $0. I just thought this would be a fun way to support a good cause by doing something I've always wanted to do but never had the guts to do (and by "guts" I mean "wife's approval").

And, if you're extra awesome, join in the fun! Become a member of The Life of Dad's team "REFLECTION PERFECTION" and grow your own "mo." If you join and send pictures, I'll find a way to work them into the blog. I'll also try to donate some money in your name. Grow any kind you like—a Dadly mo, a curly mo, a fu-manchu mo, a porn mo. It's all up to you. And, if you're not convinced, I've created a list of reasons "For" and "Against" growing a mustache to help make your decision easier:

Reasons Not to Grow a Mustache:  

You are in a horrible boating accident and your doctor—after looking long and hard at your medical chart—explains that if you don't shave your upper lip every day you will die.

Reasons to Grow a Mustache: 

Burt Reynolds

So join me in my quest to save manly parts everywhere. At the very least, follow along as I create the best Thanksgiving family photo our family has ever taken. I will, in turn, make sure to get my photo updated daily during the month, so stop by each day and Watch My Mo Grow!

It'll be reflection perfection.

The Life of Dad is updated every week. Thanks for stopping by and following my attempts to be a good dad, husband and co-ed softball player. I hope you visit again. -- Brian