- November 25, 2024
-
-
Loading
Loading
Pink is yesterday’s news.
For months now, it’s been breast cancer this, Pink Army that. But I’m here to tell you the times are a-changin’.
It’s now November, and that means the prostate reigns supreme.
And I, for one, have taken a stand.
This year, I joined the cause. I’m making a difference. No pink shirts or races or fundraiser parties. The push to beat prostate cancer is a man’s mission. And there’s only one way to complete a man’s mission — and that’s with a long, scraggly beard that says, “Prostate, you just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
It’s No-Shave November, and my contribution will be to work less on my appearance than ever before. I’m letting the whiskers grow, letting my inner freak flag fly, all the way until Dec. 1. The fact that, let’s face it, I look even more dashing with chops had nothing to do with my decision to dissent. Instead, I think of it as a happy coincidence.
Future survivors, you can thank me later.
Selfless, you say? Inspirational? A martyr? Please. I’m just an ordinary guy. An ordinary, socially conscious, counter-cultural, activist-for-the-people guy.
That’s all.
But it’s not something I think about. Some things I just can’t stand for, and there is nothing — nothing — that gets my goat quite like a putrid prostate. I won’t have it.
That’s why I protest, every second of every day. Even while I sleep, my face sends a message.
Don’t think about it, Prostate. End of the line. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us.
Soon, I’ll make wisecracking picket posters and rally outside of friends’ bathrooms: “I asked for the news, not the ‘lather,’” they’ll read. Or, “Say it, don’t ‘shave’ it!”
By the end of November, wow, I’m going to look rough. You don’t understand: I come from a long line of Italians. When my cousin was in Navy boot camp, the guy had to shave twice a day to pass inspections.
But I’ll do it for a cause. Every morning, instead of taking the extra time to shave, bleed and get razor burn, I’ll do nothing. I’ll have an eccentric, artsy vibe going on. Interesting girls sick and tired of the status quo will want to talk to me. I’ll be ostracized in public places. Salvation Army soldiers will look the other way instead of asking me for money.
But what can I say? I’ll endure. Just the kind of guy I am.
A local hero? Stop it. Suffering for others is not an easy job, true, but somebody has to do it.
Every generation has its trailblazers.
For more from Mike Cavaliere's blog, 20/twentysomething, CLICK HERE.
