MIKES LIFE: Going the distance in growing a beard

Ahh, the itching. It itches so bad.

Yes, I know I could end the pain and suffering in a matter of seconds. But I refuse this time. I will grow a beard.

I don't want a beard. I have no desire to keep a beard. But I have to, just once in my life, get to the point where I can say, "Yes, it is a beard," and be done with it.

I have tried numerous times over the years, and I always give up. The longest I have gone without shaving is eight days. (Except for that 17 year stretch from when I was born to the first time I shaved, I mean.) Today marks day seven of horrid torment, so I am hoping I can continue on, Job-like, for at least a few more days.

My wife is not a fan of the beard experiments. Each time I tell her I am going to grow a beard, she says, "Why? You're just going to complain about it itching and then shave after a few days."

Oh, but not this time. No sirree. I'm going to trudge through and at least break my old record.

Now I know plenty of you super manly men out there are wondering what the big deal is. Well, I'm not one of those guys who can simply hold his breath and pop out a big Bluto beard on demand. While some of you may be graced by 5 o'clock shadow moments after shaving, I have to work at it. My beard grows at roughly the same rate as my lawn. And those of you who have seen my lawn know that is not a very good thing.

I have told my wife that this is the last time I will make a stab at it. I need one final hoorah so I can say that I did it, and didn't quit. My kids have mixed emotions on this. Most times when I have started these beard experiments, they would rub my stubble and then suggest that shaving would be a good idea. This time, I told them that they couldn't get me to cave and shave. This is my mission, I told them. Let's get behind Dad and his beard, I told them. I'll take you on a candy buying spree if you encourage me, I told them.

So they are on board. But I think they are a little disappointed at the low rate of growth, as each morning they come up to me, I think hoping to see an unrecognizable face, some Grizzly Adams staring back them. Nope, just Dad, with what might be some dirt on his face.

The other day, I was driving along and noticed my daughter staring at me, her eyes squinted. I asked her what she was doing. "When I squint, you kinda look different with a beard." Very sweet, but I cannot expect everyone to squint to see my super manly beard. I have to go the distance.

I have set my goal at two weeks. While I know it will be several more weeks beyond that to have a full-on lumberjack beard, I think the two-week mark will be a good summit to reach. But I think if I can make it two weeks, I will have a good idea of what I will look like as a wooly booly manly man.

So I will call this the halfway point. By next week, my scratchy stubble will have made it to the point where I can proudly say, "I'm Mike, and I have a beard." And then I can shave.