Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones

A friend, Bob Cook, is growing a moustache for Movember. No, that’s not a typo. Movember, as in Moustaches in November. Movember is a fundraiser to support the fight against [...]]]> Padme: “You’re making fun of me!”
Anakin: “Oh, no, I’d be too frightened to tease a senator!”

           Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones

A friend, Bob Cook, is growing a moustache for Movember. No, that’s not a typo. Movember, as in Moustaches in November. Movember is a fundraiser to support the fight against prostate and testicular cancer. Seeing as how prostate cancer runs in Dad Windu’s (and by default, Padawan Learner’s) family, I’ll definitely be popping some money Bob’s way before the end of the month is out. But I’d like his “Mo” to get a bit fuller and bushier first. You know, get my money’s worth.

There are some people that can pull off a moustache and some people that… well… can’t. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I have my doubts about not particularly hairy, light-blond haired Bob getting any “Hey, you should keep that thing!” comments come November 30. Hey, I fully admit that I could be dead wrong about this, but… No, I just can’t see it. For that reason alone, I salute Bob’s decision to grow some nasty, food-grabbing, face-scratching, 70’s-inspiring facial hair for a good cause.

Personally, Bob, I hope you grow a really outrageous moustache: a handlebar that curves up on the ends; a full-on Stalin; a Fu Manchu dripping down the sides of your mouth; or a Hungarian reaching back across your cheeks to just below the ears. Oh yeah. I’d pay good money to see that. (For the record, people close to him have insinuated that he’s beginning to look like a 70’s era p*rn star. TeeHeeHee.)

Good luck to Bob and I hope you all plunk down a few dollars to help protect the men in our lives from prostate cancer. One in seven men in Canada and the US get prostate cancer, just so you know.

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Dang! I really wish that I could find a picture of my father and his brothers from the 1970’s to post along with this. He was one of 9 boys. Yes, nine. Say it with me now, “His poor mother!” Anyway, in this picture, 8 of them are sporting varying versions of a Fu Manchu. Big, thick, red (3), brown (3) and blond (2) Fu Manchu’s. (Just to clarify, one of my uncles had been killed in Vietnam by that time.)