or "You Gotta Get...That...Dirt..Off Ya...Shoulder...and Upper Lip"

[Editor's Note: Yes, this is more than a month delayed. Hush your mouth. I don't want to present y'all with sub-standard product. Appreciate that. Sassy]

Movemember took us by storm. It was a month of relocation, readjustment, uncertainty, and horrendous facial hair. The time really did seem to pass faster, as our days were occupied in great part by discussion of how rugged or "Megan's Law" everyone looked (fair enough, probably in poor taste, but there were a lot of "Good evening Sir, my name is So-And-So, and I am required by law to inform you that I have just moved into the neighborhood" jokes. They were funny.)

At the end of it all, our efforts in lazy grooming raised over $100. The silver lining to this cloud of Tom Selleck dreams.

The debate connected to this entertaining event is: Did I win, because my childishly incapable flavor-saver was so poor that it prompted more cringing than compliment, but I stuck with it? Or did I lose, because of the aforementioned facts?

If a hearty mustache is the measure of manliness, well shit, I guess I'm left with sports cars, guns, and developing a rabid football/hockey alliance. 17 days into the challenge, one of the Soldiers from the unit we replaced crossed me in the hallway and gasped "Sir! What is that?" 17 days in! To add insult to injury, old JMiah decides he want to get in on the fun, on or around the 25th. Within 3 days, that swarthy son of a, had a legitimate Highway Patrol caterpillar growing, thick and full.

This all took place as we were:

1. Meeting the unit we were taking over for (didn't really care too much, they were going home,screw them)

2. Being introduced to our higher headquarters (not the best first impression, looking like a 14 year old that hadn't had THAT talk with his Dad yet)

Once the finish line was in sight, it got much worse. I felt like everyone I interacted with, in person, was staring at it like it was a new pair of implants. "MY EYES ARE UP HERE, you're a pig." It became a big self image concern. Do I have any credibility with this thing? Whatsoever?

You'll all be glad to know that this adventure cemented my lack of desire for excessive facial hair. Not a strength of mine.

I will offer a challenge though: Hair Hole April. If you are one of the lucky LumberJacks that can grow a dense beard that connects your chest forest, eyebrows, and around to the back of your neck, this one is for you. Invented by me and Secret Squirrel, it's a full mustache that continues all the way around your mouth. So moustache, soul patch, and whatever you can incredibly fill in between. We see a lot of Afghans in the chow hall, these dudes can bust out a beard, for better or worse. Let's just say, if smooth facial skin were real estate, these fine gentlemen would be dead broke. Foreclosure.

That's it. 2012 for life.