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Years ago, I had what I would now term regrettable taste where facial hair is concerned. Many would say (and do say) that my taste now is as bad as ever in that area, but for the sake of argument we'll say they're mistaken. My opinion is what matters at the moment, and I have to say that I looked lousy wearing a beard. I just had this billy goat-looking thing on my chin which was just substantial enough to nearly get caught in the zipper of jackets. Looking back, I'm not really sure what I was thinking. I guess that the condition of being in my late teens and early 20s is explanation enough.

The trouble is that I have poor distribution of facial hair. There are two spots where it thrives- the upper lip and the chin. Outside of that it looks like an untended lawn, with overgrowth in some places and nothing at all in others. I don't like to let it go very far without shaving. I think that I look not terribly bad with stubble, conjuring up the image of a Hungry Joe of 'Catch-22'. I guess what that's saying is that with stubble I look like a demented, emaciated war veteran. When I look at that in writing, I feel compelled to retract my belief that I look good with stubble, especially since I dislike 'House' and others for purely that reason, but maybe I'm the exception.

I did recently go several days without shaving, and took the opportunity to see whether my facial hair configuration had changed any. I hoped in my heart that I might at least have the option of growing a beard to supplement or replace my moustache should the mood strike me, but it seems that the die is cast and I will never wear a beard. That's fine, I guess- the world needs solo violinists and garbagemen alike, and so it must need the bearded, the mustachioed and the clean shaven as well. I can strive to better myself in mind and soul, but the body is substantially what it will always be, and while I may grow a bit stronger and faster with effort, I'll never have the makings of a good beard.

It's a difficult thing to come to terms with, although probably not as difficult as my height, which is less than I would like and which exposed as a lie an alleged test of future height which examines the bones in the hand. The hair thing also revealed something to be a sham- this time the medicinal powers of spicy food. As I may have noted in the past, I was told throughout childhood that peppers would put hair on my chest, and it seems to me that facial hair would be implicit in that promise. Well, I did my part, eating plenty of peppers and spicy foods. I enjoyed it, but would I have taken to that diet with such gusto had it been purely for pleasure and not an investment in my future looks? I may well not have.