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Archive for the ‘hair vacation’ Category


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Unless you are a mathematician (or somewhat odd) you likely have not looked up a number on Wikipedia. I suppose I fall into the “somewhat odd” camp – my 8th grade geometry teacher would certainly agree I am no mathematician.

So just for fun I looked up the number twenty-two. Fascinating, I tell you.

For instance, did you know:

  • When cutting a circle with just six line segments, the maximum number of pieces that can be so created is 22, thus 22 is a central polygonal number (you don’t say)
  • Psalm 118 verse 22 contains all 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet and is dead center of the Bible (for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to go through the effort to validate this one)
  • 22 is worn by Manchester United player, John O’Shea, the only player in club history to have played all 11 positions (this one is for you Mark)
  • The Titanic was traveling at a speed of 22 knots before it crashed into an iceberg (this is a somewhat dubious claim, but interesting nonetheless)
  • There are 22 stars in the Paramount Films logo (this one is legit – I counted)

So what, pray tell, does 22 have to do with this post?

Eggnog. That’s what.

Because my wife loves me (or wants to kill me – I am not sure) this past winter our refrigerator looked like this on most days:

theWife buys in bulk. The real glory of this is that I am the only one in the family who really likes eggnog. Consequently I set a new benchmark for myself. Between the drive home from Fall Moab in October and the end of February I consumed a LOT of eggnog. Yes, I said February. Eggnog makes great food storage.

22 quarts to be precise (this is legit – I counted). If you are keeping track at home, that equates to:

  • 792 grams of fat
  • 26,400 calories
  • 7.54 lbs of weight gain (assuming 3,500 calories equals an lb)

Just from the eggnog alone.

Which would be life sustaining, if that is all I consumed over the winter and hadn’t already established that I have some restraint issues when it comes to junk food.

When I started my eggnog binge back in October, I had just completed two long days of main-lined awesomeness riding with friends in Fruita. Prior to that I had completed the Leadville 100 in August and LOTOJA in September and was feeling pretty svelte (if I do say so myself).

The intervention came in February, when upon returning from a run I found a stranger in my house. I first noticed him when I walked by a bedroom mirror and caught a peripheral glimpse of him in his tights.

“Why would some dude sneak into our house in tights?” was my first thought.

“Oh sweet mercy!” was the realization.

The man in the mirror…was me.

After a pretty active year, surely you can understand how I mistook this for a stranger:

Now that I am 37, another problem I’m noticing (in addition to my sweet tooth) is that I can’t seem to keep the winter weight off.

Let’s just say this winter was an unpleasant wake up call. A real doozie.

With a planned death run across the Grand Canyon and back, RAWROD, 12 Hours of Mesa Verde, the Squaw Peak 50, Butte 100, and Park City Point 2 Point coming up over the next 5 months, I best be for doing some sit ups or getting some gastric bypass work done.

PS – I also don’t recommend going on a hair vacation and a health vacation at the same time. This winter I became Gene Frenkle.

Written by eber

April 11, 2010 at 8:26 am


with 5 comments

Each year I take a grooming vacation.

That isn’t to say I head off to some man spa to get my hair done. No, what I mean is I take a vacation from grooming…no haircuts, no shaving. This year was an unusually long vacation (4 months).

At the end of each hair vacation comes a day of joy and sadness. Joy on theWife’s part because she gets to see the more kempt side of me again. Sadness on my part because I will be dedicating more time each week to grooming.

When people debate the evolution of man, I need only look inward at my own grooming sadness for proof that I have indeed evolved from a chimpanzee (theWife would argue I have yet to complete the process).

Some years The Day has less sadness than others. For instance, one year I was on a road trip with friends when The Day arrived. After shaving my fantastically long goatee I was inspired by Calvin (the cartoon character, not the theologian) to deposit the trimmings neatly in the shorts pocket of one of my traveling companions.

I did, however, overlook one detail. He didn’t WEAR the shorts that day. Instead he packed them up and took them home, where his WIFE did the laundry…

Needless to say she was inconsolable. And although my friend was with me the entire day before the trim and the entire day AFTER the trim – he is certain I had groomed my “nether regions” and deposited those trimmings in his pocket. (Skiddy – again I assure you it was my goatee and I plead for forgiveness).

So I woke up early THIS morning to prepare for the 2009 version of The Day. This year, thanks to you, I had some help determining the shave du’jour. While there were some intriguing suggestions, in the end it was an easy decision (theWife was right…I did indeed bite).

While Melissa’s submission was great and reminded me of William Peterson as Pat Garrett in Young Guns II, I quickly realized that I didn’t have enough moustache volume to pull it off.

[cue lightbulb over head and dinging bell sound]

I’ve got it…REPURPOSE the trimmings. GENIUS!

Admittedly my repurposing of the trimmings got a little out of hand.

And so without further ado, I present the Pat Garrett/Frida “do”:


theWife’s reaction:

[full body shudder] “ugh…THAT won’t fly. I am SO glad you are going away this weekend.”

theFirst Born’s reaction:

“umm…dad, why does your face look like a different man’s face?”

Needless to say the shelf life for this “do” will likely be short.

Written by eber

March 6, 2009 at 9:13 am

i elect to deFUR

with 21 comments

I don’t think it’s a great secret that I really like football; but there’s one thing that just drives me nutso. If you win the coin toss…why on the great green earth do you defer? Lamest idea in the history of sports.

Scratch that. Curling is the lamest idea in the history of sports.

For me, changing looks has kinda become a sport in and of itself. Those of you who know me have also known the many phases of me. For those of you who aren’t as familiar, you can get a flavor here:


I have a tendency to switch things up a bit. Keep it interesting, if you will.

Sometimes good and sometimes…not so much.

So┬áin the past two days, no fewer than 12 friends and colleagues have given me and my current “do” an unusual amount of grief. Not sure why, really. I mean I haven’t shaved much since October and the hair is looking a bit…Chris McCandless.

Have a look:


So after suffering through almost a week of people calling me Squatch (among other unmentionables), I have won the proverbial coin toss.

And I elect to deFUR.

This is where you come in.

The hair is off limits – I’ll let Jessi the Barber decide what to do there.

But the beard…that’s a whole nother story.

Give me your best ideas and I will shave accordingly (I draw the line at the Hitler stache, but the Ron Jeremy stache is negotiable).

Written by eber

March 2, 2009 at 12:00 am