stache dreams and rambling

Another good thing about landscaping is that you are not so concerned about your appearance. It is a good time to take some facial hair risks and maybe grow those porkchop sideburns or get that Mr. T haircut you've always wanted. On a lesser level, it is certainly a better environment than an office for taking another shot at that moustache you've sometimes dreamed of.

I thought we decided to give up on that.

We did, but this is not unlike a time of employment limbo. People don't care what I look like, so long as they don't have to prune and weed their own damn gardens.

You'll never look like Tom Selleck.

I know that now, but I can still be my own mustachioed icon.

You remember the last time, don't you.

Of course.

You looked like a really bad Freddie Mercury impersonator.

That really had more to do with the leather pants and the dog collar.

And all that man-love had nothing to do with it?

Stop that! These people don't know when you are kidding.

Why the hell aren't you at work right now?

I have the day off, and the cruelest of ironies is that my own yard desperately needs some tending to.

Ain't that a bitch.

It indeed is, disembodied voice. But I do prefer landscaping in Murfreesboro to working in the yards of west Nashville, as I am less likely to have to mow around a passed out Mindy McCready down here.

Laughing at others makes us feel better about ourselves.

It does when they are famous.

Or when they are sporting a subpar moustache.

You make a good point, italicized bastard. There was a guy who worked at Kroger's with a Hitler moustache a couple of years back, and my ego was certainly not threatened by him.

That was just bad taste.

Maybe it was, or maybe it was just a poor knowledge of history. Then again, maybe it was just that a forty year old guy who bags groceries for a living really has nothing to lose.

So, what have you learned from this?

That there are fates worse than weed pulling.