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And Then There Be GRAY

And Then There Be GRAY

Fellow Scoundrels and Brothers in Beardnificence,

Cap’n Jim here with ye a horrific quasi-true story that should serve as a cautionary tale to us all.

Recently, Cap’n Tanya (me partner in Blackbeard for Men) and I attended what ye might call a “trade show.” In short, this be a roomful of lying pirates trying to sell their wares to other lying pirates. We spent the day doing demos of Blackbeard for Men, demonstrating how ye can go from geriatric-looking to roguishly debonair in seconds, simply by applying Blackbeard for Men instant, brush-on, hypoallergenic beard color.

Aye, the pirates whose beards we emblackened went away quite pleased and excited as the energizing jolt of testosterone flowed back into their sadly depleted bodies. Indeed, the lasses were impressed as well. Many took away free samples, bubbling with anticipation over their pirates suddenly looking youthful and manly again.

And then there was Bernadette.

Truth be told, I have no idea if that be her real name, but she sure looked like a Bernadette. She perhaps in her 40s and was certainly a fine-looking lass, but for those crinkles telltale crinkles around the bridge of her nose and her forehead. . Anyway, we asked her if she’d be interested in learning more about Blackbeard for Men and gave her a quick pitch on the benefits of the product. Shje indicated her boyfriend indeed had gray in his beard. So offered a sample I did, telling her he’d look years younger with just a quick application of our product.

And then she replied something to the effect of, “Oh, no. Never. I love my man’s gray.”  And the forehead and bridge of her nose crinkled with a hint of disdain. Ah, sop that’s where those come from.

As she sauntered off, I looked at Cap’n Tanya, puzzled. Could the ladies fair actually prefer men with a white beard?

“God no,” Cap’n Tanya answered without hesitation.”That woman was either nuts or has a grampa fetish.”

That be what I was thinking as well. And yet, I couldn’t quite shake the thought. Even though we’ve sold millions of Blackbeards for Men to satisfied pirates around the world, for the express purpose of wiping out the gray and thus looking and feeling younger and more vital… what if I was wrong, and it was just not necessary?

What would happen if indeed I just let my gray come in? Perhaps it wouldn’t look so bad! Maybe I would indeed look distinguished, suave, a real man’s man — Sean Connery, not Duck Dynasty.

So decided I did on a little experiment. For the first time in eight years, I did not apply Blackbeard for Men for three days straight. It took that long for all the residual color to finally dissipate, and for the true “majesty” of my blizzard-white beard to reveal itself.

Finally it was time to show Cap’n Tanya and gauge her reaction.

AGH! IT BURNS! IT BURNS!”

…She yelped, as the brightness of me highly reflective beard seared into her retinas. With haste, I wrapped her head in a jolly roger (a black pirate flag I keep handy for just such emergencies,) and we took the dinghy to the nearest emergency ward, which in the United States costs yer entire life savings merely for two eye drops and an ibuprofen.

After a week of wearing two eyepatches (three between the two of us!) she could partially see again, and of course scolded me appropriately.

“What be ye thinking, ye damn cretinous fool? So blindingly bright yer beard was that ye could light up the night sky!”

I sheepishly explained that I just wanted to see if there be any truth to Bernadette’s words. For a fleeting moment I thought that perhaps we lived in a world where it mattered not whether yer beard be black or white, to paraphrase the late, great king of pop. That people wouldn’t judge ye based on their perception of yer age. That jobseekers would nae have to worry that their age and appearance might negatively affect their chances of being hired. And where if ye indeed had a snow-white beard, small children wouldn’t run up to ye constantly with their Christmas lists.

“Ach, ye bloody twat,” was her reply, accompanied by her hocking a loogie by me feet. “Ye looked like Old Man Winter himself. No way would I or any other self-respecting lass hoist yer mains’l. Now go put on yer Blackbeard for Men, and be quick about it.”

And ye know, lads? Right she be. Neptune bless Bernadette, but for every one of her there be 999 of the rest of us — imperfect, superficial, judgmental humans.

Needless to say I shan’t be repeating that folly again. From now on, yer Cap’n will be keeping his beard a lustrous dark brown and will delight in the fact that thanks to Blackbeard for Men, I be looking a decade younger and swaggering with the confidence of knowing that unlike this old foagie in the photo above, I’ve still got it.

Arr!

Cap’n Jim

Blackbeard for Men

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