Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 44 Comments

Beards…..

The last couple of years I have had a beard. Not a world class ZZTop beard. Beards like that will never be forgotten. But it’s a beard. My beard. My strategy is more facial hair means less of me on show. Don’t want to step on George Clooney’s shoes 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Today the beard came back to haunt me.

I needed to set up the works bank account app on my home computer. All was going well until I got to the identification check. Take a picture of either my passport or driving licence mugshot. Then record a short video of my weathered face to match the mugshot.

Time and time again the verification failed. Then it dawned on me. My ID photos are all pre beard….

So here’s the moral dilemma. Do I wait 7 days for the postal verification verification code to arrive OR do I shave my beard off. Do I like work that much….

Not a chance.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 80 Comments

New Style

Some objects look spectacular and then you have me……

“Dad the lockdown means that it doesn’t matter what you look like. We have seen one person in 7 weeks. No one is going to see you. Which in your case today is a real bonus.”

Last night was spent listening to songs from the Stranglers and Bad Company. On Tuesday the music world lost Dave Greenfield the brilliant Stranglers keyboard player to this dreadful virus. Only a few months back we had seen him so full of life and at the height of his form playing in Leeds.

Then yesterday Brian Howe the wonderful Bad Company vocalist was lost to a heart attack. I only got the chance to see him once. A night I will never forget. It was the night my dad died. So yes I listened to some music. Music with mixed emotions. But thankfully most of my thoughts stayed on legacy. Focusing on what those two fine musicians had contributed to my musical journey.

As we all know – life has to go on. The world keeps turning. Got to keep listening to the music. Often music and life are intertwined.

So why was I looking so beautiful this morning, so deserving of that comment from our Son. I had been sneakily trying to regrow my beard. Hoping Son wouldn’t notice. Well it was spotted and I was ordered to shave. I did a beautiful job shaving the left side of my face. Then abruptly the electric razor stopped working. It went bang. So now I’m left with half a beard and half a moustache until a new shaver arrives on Monday. Strangely I can’t remember that look ever catching on.

“Well if someone comes to the door you will just have to stand side on Dad. You can decide if you go for the beard look or the shaved look. It’s your call. You could even try and confuse them. Every time they look away, turn to the other side.”

Never thought I would be such a trend setter….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 102 Comments

Fit for radio

The walk across the local farm land always felt like top toeing across a minefield. Constantly looking down at my feet for the myriad little surprises. Cow piles, sheep droppings, mole hills, rabbit holes…. BUT NOW after weeks of walking exactly the same path it’s all changed. Suddenly my brain seems to have mapped out the various dangers. Now I can look up and take in the view. Luckily one view I don’t need to take in is my face. It’s definitely a face fit for radio.

It was Wrestlemania this weekend. It went ahead without a crowd. We now have a tradition in our house that we stay up and watch it live. Have a party and a bit of a challenge. See who is best at predicting the results. Last year my inevitable defeat cost me a painful forfeit. Eating the hottest chilli we could find in the supermarket. My eyes are still watering. This year the stakes were raised significantly…..

With his Aspergers, Son is often a creature of habit. Change is avoided. That includes things like clothes. As he grows out of stuff we need to find larger versions of his existing items. That also applies to me. He doesn’t like me to change. I have wanted to go for a really short hair cut for years. Unfortunately that has never been approved by his Lordship. Until now.

“Ok Dad let’s stake your hair on Wrestlemania. If you win the prediction game then you can have your haircut. But if I win you can’t AND it will cost you your beard.”

Son found some old photos of us as a family of 3 featuring a beardless Dad. I think he secretly wanted me to go back to that look. So Wrestlemania came and went. I gave up counting after Son successfully predicted the first 10 matches and I DIDN’T. The end result – the beard went. I’m not sure I recognise that face in the mirror anymore. Son says I look younger. I’m not sure about that but we can both agree on one thing. It’s still definitely a face best suited to radio.

Stay safe everyone.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 98 Comments

Confession time

I need to come clean about something. A secret I have hidden from all but my closest family, friends and postman. Darkness personified. Please don’t be too upset with me.

I have a beard.

There you go I’ve admitted it now.

It’s a recent thing. Not as if I was born with it. I was born with a mass of black curly hair. Was almost called Jimmy after rock guitarist Jimmy Hendrix. Yes born with his hairstyle. A few years later I would have been named Brian after another rock guitarist. In the end I was named after an actor who played in many cowboy movies without a beard.

When the beard started our son never mentioned it. Well not until he told someone working at a ticket office that his dad was trying to get a job with ZZTOP.

Trust me it’s not that long….

I understand the technical term is a short beard. A number 1. Rather aptly I had to re-type short as my first attempt replaced the or with an i.

It’s funny in the 17 years I was with my partner the subject of beards only came up once. That was on a French TGV speed train. So I don’t know if the beard would be fondly stroked or would produce a Paddington Bear like stare followed by the words “shave it now”.

Is it time for the beard to go. I’ve decided that I am now even less likely to be mistaken for George Clooney.

It’s never going to happen. Take George’s beard and transplant it on the back end of a Honey Badger. That’s what we are dealing with.

So maybe it’s time to say goodbye.

But our son is now not keen to say goodbye to it. This is an amazing turnaround as a few years back on a French train the guard had a beard. As he walked down the packed carriage our young son stood up, pointed at the beard and shouted “he’s got rabies”. By the look on the guards face that was three words of English he fully understood.

Now as part of his strategy to save the beard he has named it. As everyone knows if you name something it suddenly gets protected status. So what do I do now.

By the way the beard is now name Mr Crimble….