When I was much younger, in my teens, I attempted to grow a beard. It was mostly born out of curiosity, how it would come in, what it would look like, and how other people would react to it. I never had the most common issues, which is patchy growth or thin wispy scruff growing in where real hair should be. My hair was rough, strong, and exceedingly curly. Of course, when I was a callow youth I didn’t know enough to actually care for a beard, to style it and maintain it, to direct it. So when it came in, I appeared all a mess. Because it came in super curly and practically kinky, forming ringlets all by itself, I endured light mockery about being a hodgepodge of lanky button-nosed Irish dope mixed in with a Hassidic Jew. So I got scissors, trimmed it as far as I could, and then shaved it all off.

The response to that still rings in my ears, “Oh God! What have you done! Grow it back!”

So for years and years I pursued a standard goatee, shaving inconsistently because I never really felt like my appearance was anything worth fretting over, so I’d get scruffy, then neat, then scruffy, then neat, with little forays into yeti territory with event-driven neatening up. I also had a cheap and trashy pair of Conair buzzers that I would use on my own head to give myself haircuts. Ever since I was 13 and went on a trip to Florida with family, I blundered into the buzz cut and never looked back. That made self-maintenance a ten minute trip in the bathroom with a subsequent small hair explosion as I tossed my hair cuttings outside after I was done buzzing everything down. I did this for years and years.

As I aged, the same firm flow of testosterone that gave me my voice, and really fast growing facial hair also began to kill off the hair on my head. Male pattern baldness, which I’ve romantically referred to as “Sexy Bald Captain” after Patrick Stewart in his role as Captain Picard on Star Trek. I have made easy peace with balding. I could attempt any sort of coping mechanism or I could accept it. I elected to accept it.

So, fast forward years and years forward. My partner, Scott, started to grow out his beard first, and it was a certain curiosity to see how it would play out. Right along this time, during a thoughtless session of self-maintenance with the aforementioned trashy Conair buzzers, I went about giving myself a haircut. Absentmindedness led to me forgetting the usual 7mm guard on the buzzer and I took the first swipe, from the temple back, and the buzzer did its duty and sheared off the hair, practically right down to the skin. I took my goof to a professional place, a Great Clips, and they helped salvage my look from my absentmindedness by leveraging what I had done into a new style, a faded cut with a buzz on top. The reception of this new look was shockingly positive, which was a rather big surprise to me, leading me to think “Why did none of you mention this before!”

After the style recovery, Scott had made contact with a local barber in our city, who runs Junior’s Old School Barber Shop. As Scott was going to seriously pursue a beard and wanted expert care and guidance. We went together the first time, and as I sat there, pretty much an audience to the proceedings, I learned more about beard care in that ten minutes than I knew for all the years leading up to that moment. I felt like I could perhaps give it another shot myself, with the ringing chuckles in my ear about it coming back in ringlets and looking like a transporter accident between a Irish sheepherder and a Hassidic Jew. It was Scott inspiring me, and Junior with his teaching and instruction that led me to where I am now.

I had no idea about all the things that I could explore, and try out, with what nature was always trying to give me. For all the facial hair growth, not a single follicle will ever come back on my head. So perhaps it was time to see where I could take a beard myself. Properly inspired, and myself a new customer for Junior and his Barber Shop I let the wild take me.

I never thought I would be this pleased with myself. The feel of it is hard to describe. It feels nice to fiddle and futz with the growth, the longer it gets the more interesting the sensations become. As I learned more and more, starting with Junior’s advice and observing Scott pursuing his beard options, I started my own exploration. A trip down the beardy rabbit hole.

The things I didn’t know were washes, balms, and conditioners. I also had no concept of a boars hair brush. I just thought of brushes as things that my mother and sister had, paddles on handles that would help them discover snarls and knots in their hair and lead to crying and cursing. A whole new collection of things were now open and ready for me to explore, things devoted to help what I was quickly growing to grow in straighter, smoother, easier to manage, and more pleasant to have and to touch. Thankfully my IRS refund arrived just as I was looking at the pile of new possibilities. There are many brands, many makers, and as many formulations all promising a variety of positive outcomes. Junior recommended the Reuzel brand, and specifically the Reuzel Beard Balm. That’s when it struck me that there was an entirely new class of personal care products that not only could do good things for me, but also give me a very enticing and attractive scent that I absolutely loved. I think what really tipped the scales, more than the inspiration and the learning was feeling what a good Boars Hair Brush can do. From the first moment I tried it, with the Reuzel Balm, the condition of my beard improved and the sensation of using the brush became a kind of indulgent pleasure. Now I carry my brush around with me everywhere I go and if I have some time to myself, using it has become a delight.

I then visited Junior myself, with what nature was handing me and he helped me bring style into my life. He gave me guidance and suggestions, and now I can’t imagine going anywhere else to get my hair cut, my beard trimmed, and all the other careful and delightful things that a excellent barber does for his clients.

I have since then explored more products in this arena. It started with the Reuzel Beard Balm, but now it has branched out to Honest Amish Beard Conditioner, which is much looser than the Reuzel Balm, and has the unique scent somewhere between Pumpkin Pie and Honey. I also have Beardoholic Conditioning Beard Oil, which is unscented but still works delightfully well. I have also purchased and enjoy Beardsley Beard Conditioner, which hilariously gives me the distinct aroma of a fruit salad. I am also quite fond of Lush Cosmetics Kalamazoo Beard Wash and Conditioner. The last thing I bought for myself was a beard comb, not that my brush wasn’t doing wonders for me, and it was, but I thought that a nice comb designed for the very hair I was trying to grow would be a smart move, and it definitely was. It is made of sandalwood, and the scent of that is pleasant in its own distinct way. I selected the Hundred Beard Company Comb.

All of these people, and wonderful products, have all worked together to give me a wonder. I couldn’t imagine ever living without a beard now, and if you are local in Michigan, I would make the trip to visit Junior. If not, finding a barber like him would be the best way to start. There is so much they can teach us all.

Lastly, a picture of yours truly, with the hard work and careful conditioning that all of this has resulted in, at least up to this point: