Recently, Mia and Catano were in town, visiting from San Francisco, The City as they say, as the first part of their vacation/going-to-a-wedding travels. Catano actually has a first name but like Draplin, I prefer using their last name versus their first. Some people just sound good that way.

When we have visitors in town, we get to play tourist. Showing people your home turf as you might not usually see it yourself. While Chicago has been home for a decade now, I rarely do the tourist thing. I have never been up the Hancock or the Sears Tower. I worked in a building right across from the Hancock for a few years, during the dot-com days, up on the 28th floor in a building that charged too much for office space, where money was being spent like it was going out of style. That was 2000 after all.

It was nice — picking out the best that Chicago has to offer, tailored to their specific interests and seeing all of my bikes being ridden around is an interesting thing to behold. Vegetarian restaurants were visited, coffee and tea shops were left in our wake and we rode north, south, east and west.

What interests me most these days, alongside riding bikes and obsessing over trying to find the right small day bag, is conversation and engaging in it on silly and serious levels. Ultimately, it’s what you talk about — how you say and how you listen.

I spoke and listened. What I heard is that good things may be afoot.

It has been said that I’ve got a bit of a shoe fetish or addiction or “worse than a girl.” I like footwear. I’m no sneakerhead — that term is reserved for those who are far more devoted to shoes and the culture around it than I am. I just like shoes in different varieties and types.

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The little strip mall that sits at the corner of Clark and Montrose sees me on regular occasion — sometimes I head to the 7-11 for something or for the once-in-a-blue-moon Subway sandwich but lately it’s been the Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins (known henceforth as the DD-BR) that’s drawn The Girl™ and I there.

Last night, after seeing Zach celebrate his 28th at the Hopleaf, we dropped in at the DD-BR for some post-celebration sweets. Hot Chocolate for her, a scoop of whatever caught my eye for me.

We’ve become familiar with the crew at the DD-BR having dropped in a lot in the past few weeks at about the same time. There’s a tall, lanky fella who’s a couple cousins removed from Napoleon Dynamite (in a good way) crossed with long hair and would soon prove me right in a bit. The other fellow is a mild-mannered older guy who’s been nice to me with free and extra hook-ups on whatever it is I’m getting.

As I’m paying for our sweets, the tall dude asks me what kind of hat I’m wearing. It takes me a few seconds to consider his question — does he mean the helmet Im wearing or the cycling cap underneath it?

I point to the hat, “This one?”

“Yeah. It looks familiar.”

“It’s a cycling cap, made by a guy in Wisconsin.”

“Yeah, it reminds me of a hat.”

“Huh…”, not knowing what he means.

“You know the guitarist in AC/DC?”

Oh. “Angus Young? The schoolboy hat he wears? Oh yeah!”

“Exactly, that’s what the hat reminds me of.”

“Ah, cool. Awesome. Thanks and see you guys soon.”

It all makes sense now. Dude is totally a rocker.

Originally, the title, “The Shining” came to mind (with the movie firmly planted in mind) but opted for the above instead.

While this may be Moustache May and ‘staches¹ are de rigeur these days, I’ve often pondered how they look in the current revival. My reactions range from Selleck-ian genius to creeped-the-hell-out but here are a few reasons why growing a ‘stache may not be a good idea:

1. You’re not Burt Reynolds and you certainly are NOT Tom Selleck.
2. There is a very, very, very fine line between looking hipster cool and looking like a child molester.
3. The above goes double if you sport glasses, especially those that fall in the emo-hipster vein — thick-rimmed, black, et al.
4. Hitler sported a mini ‘stache.
5. It’s not the 70’s.
6. It’s also not the 80’s.
7. Straight up ‘staches from the above decades are boring — handlebar and Frenchy ‘staches are the way to go. The curlier and pointier, the better. Cole Maness is a good example and if you sport a shaved head like him, even better.
8. The ‘stache’s alter ego as “_______ tickler” is a falsehood perpetrated by the Royal Order of Moustachios to get more men to sport them when no women I know like them.

The plush moustache in the thumbnail above is sold by friend Shawn of Shawnimals. He makes good stuff.

¹ And I applaud all of those in the name of great moustache wearers i.e. Tom Selleck.  ↩