The Sum of All Beards

Beards used to mean something.

Anyone with a beard was within 60 days of a Phish show at any given time. They owned guitars. At least one acoustic that sat next to their couch for couch strumming. Their girlfriends made hemp jewelry and drank green tea. Maybe kombucha. This was also when green tea and kombucha meant something. They drank craft beer before anyone else knew that there was more than two styles of beer. They were going to watch some friends at an open mic later that night if you wanted to join.

Their dad made you stand at attention when Sgt. Peppers came on the hi-fi during dinner.

Those were simpler times.

Then, like a fungus, beards began to spread. Hippie? Prep? Rich guy? Lawyer? Athlete? Ironic? Non-Ironic? There’s no telling who it is that’s hiding under there. Or what beard oil they prefer.

And why?

Well, just as the space race gave us Tang and silly putty, The New Republic reports that the US led wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have brought us more than fast-casual Mediterranean chains: We are a nation drunk on ”tacticool” culture. 

Beards are Tacticool.

Don’t fight it.

Breath it in.

Let it wash over you.

Let it intoxicate you.

Let it become you.

And consider this:

Duck Dynasty was fashion-forward.