Beardless Weirdness

As you can tell by the scary picture above, I recently shaved off my beard. You might think that that is no big deal; men shave all the time. But you must understand: I don't. I struggled to grow whiskers when I was a teen-ager and sported moustaches and goatees as well as I could before my two years in the Mormon mission field--facial hair was verboten as a missionary--but after I returned home I seriously began the beard. There were a few times when I felt obliged to shave: once, when I wanted to play intramural basketball--i could play as a non-student living in a university ward, but I had to adopt school grooming standards; and again, when I was called to be a counselor in the bishopric in Cerritos California--the stake president, Alma King, asked me to; and lastly, when I was called to be a ward missionary leader in Tennessee. I had asked President Sandstrom, the member of the stake presidency presenting the call, if I needed to shave and he said he would leave that up to me. I thought that, since I would be working closely with young full-time missionaries, it might be a good idea, so I did. I saw President Sandstrom a couple of days after I shaved and he immediately said "Grow it back! That pretty much settled it for me. Unless it was a requirement for some calling at church, I would likely never shave it off again. I have served in many church leadership positions since, including branch president, without having to shave. So, putting all of the times together that I have been without a beard, I am guessing it would total less than two years out of the thirty-five-plus years since I came home from my mission. Some of my kids could never remember seeing me without a beard. Ingrid had been begging me in recent years to shave it so she could see what I looked like without it. I avoided it.

The truth is: I like wearing a beard. And my wife, Karen, has preferred the beard, feeling that when I was shaven that she was being flirted with by different guy with the same mannerisms as her husband--it was a little off-putting for her. I have one of those faces that completely changes with a change in facial hair. When I was installed in the Bishopric in California, people were asking each other who that guy was that was sitting with Sister Mundy--they thought perhaps I was a brother or something. When I was called out of the audience to come to the stand jaws dropped. Of course it may have been that I was the last one they expected to be called. I recently got the same sort of surprise from people at church and work. Today another guy in the office said, "I just can't get used to you without the beard.

So why they the clean face, if it puts people off and scares little children and some stake presidents? Well, my wife Karen is hoping to teach release-time seminary here in Utah next year. She learned in her institute class this semester that not only do male seminary teachers have to be groomed to general authorities standards, but that the husbands of female teachers must also comply. So, I figured if this was her dream job--she taught early-morning seminary for ten years--that I should make the sacrifice (maybe sacriface is more like it)and get used to it now. I hope my wife is worth it, for all our sakes