Someone Better Tell Tom Selleck...

I never really thought of it as a roadblock to anything, let alone employment.

It was pointed out to me today over coffee by a pro in the field of employment-finding that sporting a mustache can be a stumbling point for many people due to the stereotype associated with a man with a mustache. What is this stereotype?

A few years ago, when Holly first came to Mt. Tabor Presbyterian where I was working, (and it was later told to me) her initial reaction to seeing me (I was leading singing at the time) was to question, “Who’s the guy with the molest-a-stache?” Upon hearing that I was the Youth Director, she was in disbelief.

This might be a good time to point out that many of the jobs I am trying to be hired for work directly with teenagers. “If you were my client I’d make you shave it off,” said my friend in the café.

My brain really fought this one, as I have really gotten used to the ‘stache over the past few years. “Obviously whoever considers a mustache as a sign that someone shouldn't be in ministry has never been to a Pastor’s Conference, where the mustache (along with a comb over - or at least a side part - and a cell phone in belt case) is almost a cliché among those in attendance,” I told myself. But maybe that is a part of the negative stereotype.

I reflected back on a couple of really good interviews that I have recently had that did not result in any sort of employment, and I wonder if wanting to work with teens and young adults while sporting a mustache is a poor decision. Goatees, on the other hand, have become quite popular among our society these days, crossing a generational gap that stops many other fashion and/or style progressions. However, it takes me a month or two to actually get a decent goatee going… apparently I need Rogaine for the chin.

At this point the decision was quite simple: the mustache is gone. I may not agree with some of the stereotypes placed on mustaches, but I understand that other folk might see something other than a benign attempt at facial hair. After all, Paul wrote “Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak. For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, [with a mustache], won’t that person be emboldened to [assume there is a darker intention that they too can follow]? …Therefore, if [my mustache] causes my brother or sister to fall into [or assume] sin, I will never [sport a ‘stache] again, so that I will not cause them to fall.”  (1 Corinthians  8:9-10, 13) Well, maybe not exactly that, but I get what he was saying, and so will consider what others see in a man working with youth that has a mustache.

The whole facial-hair-marks-the-good-or-bad thing is about to become a major plot point, as this weekend is the last for Trek In The Park, featuring the episode Mirror, Mirror. You know, the one where we can tell that Spock is evil based on if he has a goatee or not?

Now I just need to spend some time in the sun so that I don’t have a pale line between my nose and lips.
UPDATE: In the interest of several offended people, and that Tom has an epic 'stache, the original Title referring to Hitler has been removed.

Mission Chicken Part Two: A Photographic Tale

We flew in to Columbus, Ohio and picked up some vans to transport the students and the few of us leaders. Chicken quickly adapted to the new windshield and we were on the way to Indianopolis Presbyterian Church where we stayed the night on Greek Row of Ohio State University.

While Chicken slept, Brian and Tricie awoke early in the morning with a student who had neck pain due to the hard floor. As Brian walked past a window, he looked out and saw a body in the early sunlight. Seeing blood on man, they investigated, called an ambulance and, while the students slept, Police and Paramedics came and took the poor fellow to the hospital. We later found out that he had drank a considerable amount of alcohol at a frat party, passed out on the stone ledge of the church's stairwell, then fell off and cracked his skull. We figured if nothing else came of this trip, the fact that we were able to find the man and get him medical attention made it worth it.

The next day we drove out of Ohio into West Virginia and watched as the city turned to private unincorporated towns and finally into Logan. The downtown showed many dilapidated buildings, some actually falling apart.

We drove up to the New Life Fellowship building where YouthWorks has it's home and moved in to the 3rd floor with 2 other churches and a group of young men from inner city Akron. The church bought the buildings, which was once a middle school, from the city about 12 years prior for $10.



Each student and leader was assigned a locker in the old school hallway. They operated as makeshift mailboxes where notes of encouragement, quickly sketched drawings, papers of flirting, and the occasional phone number were exchanged. Chicken, while chaperoning the hallway, unfortunately received no mail.



Many happenings came about, which will be told in person or possibly later on this blog. On our way home, we had some good old turbulence.


We had a layover in Las Vegas, where the temperature was about 112 degrees. We chose to stay indoors during this time.

Weird is not so weird...

As I sit in Powell's books downtown, I realize just how out of fashion wearing a suit can be. Hundreds of people walk by, and many look at me like I am somehow against the accepted norm here. Earlier today I was walking the sidewalks of hawthorne and received similar looks.

Me by the Powell's Pillar

Now, I admit that a suit is rarely my wardrobe of choice, but I had an important job interview today (not to mention I just plain look good in a suit) and then visited some friends while on the east side of town. It may be that I am simply not part of any crowds that regularly, or even irregularly, dress in such a fashion. But when did attiring oneself in a suit become such a strange and abnormal thing?

It seems everwhere I look I see stickers encouraging readers to "keep Portland weird", but the irony is that I am standing as the weird dressed in my astonishingly good looking suit here in Portlandia.

Guess I win, eh?