Schematic of Ramble: Coldplay Compromise, Thoughts on Couch, Too Much Stache

Thanks a lot 40 Year Old Virgin for messing with my perception of Coldplay. I'm sitting in the front room of my brother's place in Duluth, looking out the big front window. I'm listening to Coldplay. I've spent a lot of time in this room, and I just saw the girl next door get her daughter out of the car and they both walked to the house. I remember sitting here when she and her husband were moving in; I remember sitting outside and hearing that they were going to get married; I was helping out, mowing the lawn, when I first realized she was pregnant; life is great and moving and I'm slowing it down, writing through windows. Wild man, wild.

Anyway, after writing that, I feel equal parts Rear Window, The Burbs, and Lady in the Water.

I'm in town for a good friend's 30th b-day tonight. I got here yesterday afternoon, and of course, as so often happens, many of us who will meet again tonight, got together for a rehearsal happy open ended hour. It was fun. I learned that there's a Mustache March movement among my friends here. Being bearded, I find myself a part of the gang.

Each summer a group of us go to the BWCAW to fish, have adventures, and recharge our mental batteries. It's a big deal to have the newest and lightest equipment. I completely understand the idea of reducing weight in the pack, but this whole concept is often taken to silly extremes. I know that REI and the Mountain of Gander make money hand over fist during the week prior to our departure. More than once have I run into a fellow member of the team up there, purchasing the very item we'd all laughed about as being unnecessary and excessive the night before at a planning meeting. It seems that each year there's one new item that everybody derides initially, but purchases eventually. It's an honor to produce the newest and coolest item. To watch all your buddies fall in line with your suggestion. No one really ever takes credit, and we don't really keep track of this honor, but somehow it remains important.

One implement that has been nixed from day one is the razor. Though there are camp shaving kits available, our group has avoided them. Actually, one rookie brought one once, and he's never been on the trip again. This has less to do with the contraband razor, and more to do with the fact that he hoarded communal jerky. He admitted this to us once when a few of us were in St. Cloud. After his one and only trip, he threw his clothes and gear in the basement and forgot about them. I guess that two months later he remembered the secreted jerky when he found a mass of maggots among his gear. Gross, I know. Serves him right. Anyway, in the absence of razors, everybody's face gets bushy. One fun tradition that we share and laugh about (though I've learned that the humor isn't universal) is going out the first night we get back. Everybody agrees to clean up, but leave the stache. I think that this only happened once. There are pictures though. I think they're hilarious. I showed them to my mom and she didn't understand why I was laughing so much. She grew up in the 60's and 70's and the mustache was common.

So, last night when I learned of the Mustache March movement I took a little trip down memory lane. And reader, you came with me. Here's a group shot from a few years back. In this picture, taken in the Huntley Acre Wood, you see, from left to right, Ben, Joe, Matt, Myself, and Dave. Now in order of mustache creepiness: BEN.

Many heads were nodded about the idea of Mustache March, and tonight I guess that I'll see how many people remember their pledges. Five o'clock shadows all around I'm guessing. Only one brave character attended last night's gathering with a true stache, and his name is Dan. He was a good sport about it. He got a lot of crap, but in the end I think his beery and bleary bearing triumphed. I think there will be more than a few lip warmers beginning today.

Another funny term and phrase:

Catterlipper: this is a term that Joe and I came up with a few years back. It references the peculiar mustache of an upstairs neighbor. We kept imagining a caterpillar on his lip.

Stache must ride! :This was a silly and mashed up battle cry a couple years back. It came up multiple times last night, but originated within a Chester Park home. Actually, it was Chet's house, but not really his park.

It's been quite a ramble thus far. The sun is out and I'm feeling good. Phones are ringing and people are getting ready to assemble. Stories are emerging: "where'd you end up staying last night?"; "what time was it when I left?"; "did the band really play that song, or was that guitar hero?" Ah yes, back in Duluth, and it feels a lot like those heady days of my freshman year. However, now I should be grading papers, rather than writing them. Shoooooooot, it's Saturday though! Daylight Savings tonight. . .oh boy, an extra hour.

I better get back to reality. I'm going to quit looking through windows. I'm going to put on The Hold Steady in favor of Coldplay, and get ready to laugh and hang out with friends. Happy Saturday.