“You’re not old enough for a midlife crisis,” a sixty year old friend quipped last night over dinner. Wine. Loads of pent up laughter. Transitions. Big birthdays. Aging parents. Aging children, nieces, nephews.

I’d laughed off his complement, “Beard’s good on you.”

Was he kidding? Second complement in 24 hours. Strange. Five weeks and nary a comment, as if nobody noticed my mossy mug.

Truth is it isn’t particularly becoming. Heck, it isn’t even particularly recognizable as a beard. But it’s been interesting to watch my familiar visage vanishing beneath the surprisingly salt and pepper whiskers. Curiosity not vanity has kept me from shaving over the last month. Reverse vanity? Maybe. Started as sloth after new years. Skiing. Writing. Editing. Why shave?

I was revising another bearding reflection that I started a couple years ago. A short lived bearding experiment. A reminder that I’d make an unconvincing caveman.

But five and a half weeks into this my longest unshaven stretch I’m more curious than ever. Will it fill in? Will it thicken? Will it ever resemble a beard? A beard! A black and brown and grey beard. Salt and pepper and cinnamon beard. Bizarre.

For now I’ll continue to let it grow. Curiosity wins again despite tonight’s posh dinner reservations with family. My wife will forgive me. Hopefully. Mother-in-law too…

Too young for a midlife crisis? This question has been raised by others too. Not too young to avoid a midlife crisis…