Put Some Hair on Your Chest

At the risk of divulging too much information, I have to say that this recent trend where manscaping has become the norm concerns me greatly.

It's not that I don't manscape, to a degree. My beard, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, grows abundantly if left unchecked, in a vast expanse that overruns my neck and spills into the jungle of my chest hair.

I have already detailed my problems with shaving, but they go beyond the frequency with which I must take a blade to my face.

Essentially, my beard and my chest hair are like the people along the Mexican and American border. One likes to run into the other. Thus, I must have my razor act like the Minutemen, and keep a clear swatch of desert that effectively, hygenically, and appealingly delineates where one region ends and the other begins. Because of this, I am forced to shave my neck even beyond the beard, and into the chest region. Unfortunately, I must trim the Northern borders of my chest hair to ensure that there are no connectors to my face.

And that's about as far as I go. While the overlords at work have given me permission to dispense with a tie, I cannot do so. If I wear a tie, with my collar buttoned up, I have manscaped enough that no chest hair shows -- an acceptable arrangement that makes me look vaguely professional, if one ignores my work product.

However, if I choose not to wear a tie -- and remembering that, without a tie, no one should ever button the top button of a shirt lest they look like a dingbat -- the opening of a one-button-opened collar is enough to allow plenty of chest hair to come out and say hello. We're not talking Austin Powers here, but a display of chest hair like that is unnecessary in the office.

I could, of course, shave more of my chest hair. I could shave my chest hair below my collarbone, therefore ensuring that, even when rocking the open collar look, I'd look like a twelve year old.

But I won't. Why? Because I'd look like a twelve year old.

I will never understand this sudden obsession with ridding yourself of the second-most-salient physical characteristic of manliness. Yes, nobody likes a hairy back, and that should be taken care of.

But a hairy chest? Come on. Back home it is a symbol of pride -- a sign that your manhood has arrived, that you are no longer a boy and can build log cabins with your bare hands and wrestle a bear if necessary.

Men wear their chest hair openly and proudly. We think of it as a welcome mat for the ladies -- one that says, "Welcome. Come on in. Make yourself at home."

Yes, sometimes I show too much chest hair. But screw it. I'm not apologizing. Men have chest hair and I'm not going to get rid of it because some Abercrombie models somehow believe it to be a source of shame. If it's good enough for Burt Reynolds and David Hasselhoff, it's good enough for me.

Oh, and you're welcome/I'm sorry for not taking this manscaping conversation south of the border. This is a family blog, people. Behave.