Mustache vs. Sans Mustache

I admit, I have not been following the Michael Jackson trial. But have you heard this?

Geraldo Rivera believes Jackson is innocent. So much so, that he will in fact SHAVE OFF HIS MUSTACHE if Jackson is found guilty. “Having investigated the facts and circumstances leading up to his indictment and everything that’s happened since, I’m absolutely convinced that he is being framed,” Rivera said.

Now this got me thinking. No, not about how much of a wackjob Geraldo is, but about the power of le ’stache.


Geraldo con ’stache

Think about it. If Geraldo actually does go through with shaving off his mustache, he will in effect be committing career suicide. For it is written, once the mustache gods elevate a man into a power position, they shall smite him who has the gall to shave whilst in power.

Read: don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

What? You don’t believe me? Well please allow me to present Exhibit A: Tom Selleck. When you hear the name “Tom Selleck” you probably draw a blank. That’s because most people only know him by his mustachioed moniker “Magnum P.I.”


Magnum Freaking P.I.

Yes, back in the day Tom Selleck was the man. He was untouchable, that is, except by the ladies, if you know what I mean. He ruled the islands of Hawaii. If you were wanted for pineapple thievery or any other unsavory actions in the South Pacific, you had better watch your back. Within an hour, including commercial breaks, Magnum would have had you handcuffed face-down in a pile of poi wishing you were never born.

So what happened to Selleck after Magnum P.I.? Oh, I’ll tell you what happened. He shaved his mustache and fell off the face of God’s Green Earth, that’s what happened.


Some old ugly dude

Moving on to Exhibit B: Alex Trebek. Alex suavely worked his mustache all the way to tip-top of the game show host food chain. With a neatly groomed mustache, he took Chuck Woolery by his ankles and shook all the loose change from his pockets. In one swift move he had Pat Sajak begging for mercy. I won’t even tell you the awful things he did to Marc Summers.


Alex with mustache and attractive, albiet matronly, guest

Alex had everything a game show host could want. Power, glory, money, women. But he got cocky. He shaved the ’stache. And now we couldn’t pick his face out from a crowd if he were wearing a Daily Double sandwich board and Merv Griffin as a hat.


Alex without mustache or last shred of dignity

Exhibit C: Mike Bellotti, head coach, Oregon Ducks football. Bellotti has been head coach of my beloved Ducks since 1995. He came in, mustache and all and brought the Ducks to the brink of a National Championship in 2002.


With ’stache, focused

So what did he do? He shaved his mustache. Joey Harrington and Onterrio Smith immediately went to the NFL, his wife left him, and he even missed getting to a bowl game entirely last season. Soon he’ll be pushing a shopping cart around the Knight Library mumbling about facial hair and the Indiana game.


Without ’stache, confused, disoriented

For my final statement I’d like to speak directly to the mustachioed.

Men, you’ve been blessed. You’ve been blessed with a bushel of hair atop your lip that is as good as the muscle of 100 Clydesdales, the brain of Albert Einstein and the debonair of Frank Sinatra combined. Please, don’t take what has been bestowed to you for granted. For if you do, I will not be held accountable. Now that you have been warned, if you do shave that proud icon, you must stand before God and all of mankind and answer to us why you have done such a selfish, thoughtless deed.

May God have mercy on your clean-shaven soul.

Your witness, counselor.


“Remember kids, with a mustache you can do anything!”

Cos-ing a stir. HA! Get it?

So I received an email from a “friend” today. This “friend” had some things to say about my blog. I thought I would share them. I changed the “friend’s” name to protect the not-so-innocent.



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From: Cherries Jubilee
Sent: Monday, March 28, 2005 3:31 PM
To: Aaron Robnett

I don’t even know where to begin about your blog-E-blog.  Although, it seems like you have a lot more free time than you let on when you could be emailing or calling your friend Cherries Jubilee. 

Don’t compare Oregon to the Australian Outback.  That just perpetuates the myth that we are all hicks in the sticks.  Well, I guess you are from Salem.  Did I tell you the last time I went to Vegas the taxi driver asked if we had paved roads or if we rode horses and carriages.   We then referenced the Blazers he kind of got it.  Scary.

What is this innate need to continue this same diatribe about High Fidelity?  It’s a good movie.  You love Jack Black.  Point made.  Is there any more you need to say?  And don’t make fun of us nerds that read books and it’s usually true that they are more enjoyable then really poorly written screenplays for mega-popular films.  (i.e. Jurassic Park). 

Are you lacking in outlets of expression?  It seems like you need to impart your knowledge on those that might not be privy to it on a daily basis, but really, is it just so you don’t have to write as many emails, and your friends can just go on the old blog and see what Aaron is thinking today?  I guess this throws back to your initial email to me about the self-serving aspect of it.  Don’t you feel that personal mono e mono interfacing is more intimate?  I don’t want to talk to those people?  I want to see how Aaron is.

And I definitely didn’t need to see The Hoff again, but thanks.   

The profanity is upsetting and unnecessary. 

And since when have you been Captain Patriotic?  Does America need to win everything and do we need to think that it does? 

I’ve never seen Insomnia, but I think I will now so I can tell you how much I enjoyed it.

(Editor’s note: In the original email this next sentence was in a giant bright-green font for added emphasis.)

And…the Last Starfighter is too different to be compared to flight of the navigator, and in my opinion better – less Disney.

Talk to you later!!!

Cherries Jubilee



Here was my response.


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From: Aaron Robnett
Sent: Monday, March 28, 2005 3:53 PM
To: Cherries Jubilee
Subject: RE:

Jeez. I had no idea I could make someone so angry with my blog already.

Why can’t I have opinions about things? Also, why can’t I embellish and fictionalize a little bit for entertainment’s sake?

Most people who do blogs just get on there and make it like a crappy diary. They just say things that no one else would care about, like how they “feel” or what their cat “did” today. Who cares? Don’t post that on the internet. Write it in your Hello Kitty journal. Don’t bother me with it. Blogs should be stuff people, who may not even know you, want to read. That’s my intention with mine anyhow.

I like to read books, just like you do. In fact, I’ve been reading about a book a week lately, but I don’t go around bragging about it, or dropping it in conversations about movies every chance I get. THAT’S what I’m making fun of. Not the reading part--the annoying bragging part.

Profanity? Since when do you care about profanity? I’ll have you know that I only use it when necessary. If you’ve seen Team America, then you know why I chose to say “F*** yeah!” at the end of my patriotic rave.

Are you trying to censor me? Who do you think you are, the FCC? If I can’t have free speech on my own blog, then I’m not a free man!

Also, if you remember, I called you like twice last week but you were sick. So I’ve been trying to communicate “mono e mono” (wow, that’s some gringoized Spanish...BTW it’s mano y mano which literally means “hand to hand”) but you haven’t been around to answer.

I would like to think of my blog as a supplement to all the emails and phone calls, not a replacement.

Aaron


There you have it. Just another lovely day of friends loving friends, here on ol’ Sweater Ranch.

High Fidelity

Since my nickname is Cosby Sweater and Nick Hornby just came up on Chris’s blog, I thought I’d tell you one of my favorite things to tell people.

“Your fly is down.”

OK, that’s a DIFFERENT thing I like to tell people. Here’s the real thing I like telling:

“I liked the movie HIgh Fidelity better than the book.”

This is true. I did like the movie better. There’s a couple reasons I liked the movie better.

1) Jack Black. JB made that movie. He should get huge props. His character in the book was not nearly as funny as JB was.

2) The movie was from an American POV, the book was British. I don’t know as much about British pop culture, nor do I like their music as much. Plus British humor can grind on me after a while. Except when it comes to BBC’s The Office. That was hilarious the whole time.

I'm so glad a movie actually became better than a book. That never happens. And bookworms LOVE to let you know when a book is better. “Oh, the film was dreadful compared to the novel.” Then I have to listen to blah, blah, blah...OKAY. I GET IT. YOU READ. HERE’S A MEDAL. Now why don't you do me a favor and go back to the book club you came from?

I wonder what would happen if one of these people actually liked a movie better than the book. Would he deny it and keep living his lie, covering it up with a huge Barnes & Noble spending spree? Or would it so not compute that if we were lucky we’d get to see a little blood trickle out his ear right before his head exploded?

Hey, I’m the first to admit America, especially Hollywood, usually takes what talented people from here or abroad give us and dumb it down, homogonize and process it until it royally sucks. I think one of the best examples of this is the movie “Insomnia.” The Al Pacino/Robin-are-you-kidding-me-by-casting-Patch-freaking-Adams-in-this-Willams movie was awful compared to the original Norwegian thriller. Most Americans will never know about the original and better version. And that’s a pity.

That’s why I was so happy to see us take something and make it better. That’s what America was founded on. That’s our roots, dammit. We've been too focused on BIGGER and FASTER. We've forgot BETTER. That's the one we should be concerned with.

Thank you High Fidelity, the movie. Thank you Jack Black and John Cusack and DV DeVincentis (writer) and Stephen Frears (director). You not only gave a facial to Brits and book nerds everywhere, you restored my faith in AMERICA.

Fuck yeah!

Speaking of the Hoff...

All this talk of the Hoff reminded me of this image I received in a Christmas email from a friend last year. I know it's Easter, but I think this is festive for any season.

The Last Starfigher, 21 years later

So I watched The Last Starfighter last night on HBO Family. I had never seen it before, so the nostalgia factor was low. Although the 80s-ness of it made me a little nostalgic.

OK, I am all for suspending belief when I go into a movie. Going into this one, I was even giving it a lot more leeway than I would most movies. I wanted to like The Last Starfighter.


Here are the things I DID go along with:

A video game was actually created by an alien to test humans on their starfighting prowess.

When you’re about to break a high score on a video game in a trailer park everyone stops what they’re doing to watch.

If you’re good enough at said video game, the aliens will come down and ask you to save their galaxy.

When the aliens come down to Earth to take you away to their galaxy, they will be driving a Ford station wagon with green taillights and DeLorean doors.

The alien will then drive 300 MPH on a windy highway for no apparent reason, since they are not headed to Little Rock, but rather a freaking SPACE STATION A GALAXY AWAY.

The aliens will replace you on Earth with a robot that looks and acts just like you, because these aliens are caring enough not to want your family and friends to worry about your sudden disappearance.

All an alien has to do to look like a human is wipe a soiled bandana on his face, and VIOLA!

When you shoot an alien once, it flops around on the ground. When you shoot it a second time, it explodes in an enormous ball of flames.

The being who wants to rule outer space isn’t some other-worldly being, it’s some bitchy British guy with a big forehead.

When you return to Earth in your spaceship with your alien buddy, no one in your trailer park will question its reality, I'm assuming because they’re all high on crystal meth.


But the one thing I could NOT believe was:

After you beat a high score on a video game a hot chick will kiss you.

THAT WOULD NEVER, EVER, EVER HAPPEN.

So unbelievable.

Definition of “Cosby Sweater”

Cosby Sweater is a delicate weave of thoughts and feelings. An array of threads that are each dyed with a very special experience. Together they delight as well as shock, yet are silky soft to the touch. Not many people are bold enough to venture into the colorful cornucopia that is Cosby Sweater, but those who do may find it is the only thing that truly expresses what life is, and at the same time, what life may become.