I think my soul patch is making me paranoid. Shortly after blogging about my facial hair I realized that there was something I had left out of my rant. Since I’ve been growing the patch I've wondered if I’m becoming a hippie. I didn’t wonder this until I was doing some minor research on the soul patch and the 
style was associated with hippies (a la Frank Zappa) and blues/jazz musicians from the 50s and 60s. I wouldn’t have immediately thought, “Man, am I turning into a hippie?” if I hadn’t been asked earlier that day (by my friend Derek) if Dawn and I were “turning into hippies” because we’ve been buying a lot of organic foods for the past few months. But that was pretty much as far as it went – that was about the height of my paranoia until Angela innocently commented on my MySpace blog about the derivation of the name "soul patch." I had always thought it was the association with the musicians that apparently coined the style, but thought I should check it out to make sure. What I uncovered was something far more than my incredibly vulnerable psyche could handle. In my search, I came across a message board on which someone said they thought soul patches were worn to "signal that you were gay." Someone replied to this saying that was untrue; that it was mainly worn by guys that were "really vain." Further, on this same message board the soul patch was referred to as a "flavor savor," and another name that was so crude that I won't bother to repeat it here (for those of you with good imaginations, the term was an amalgam of the word "man" and a part of the female anatomy). It was also stated that only hippies and beatnik poets should wear soul patches, but nowhere did it tell me where the term came from. Regardless, I was no longer thinking about the origin of the moniker; I was now contemplating whether or not people think I’m either: 1) Gay, 2) A Hippie, 3) A Jazz Musician, 4) A Beatnik Poet, 5) Really vain, or 6) Apolo Anton Ohno. Maybe this is why no one says anything about it – they
think I’m having an identity crisis. Maybe that’s why my wife hasn’t decided if she likes it or not – she’s waiting to see if I start speaking in haiku or become a really good bongo or saxophone player…or maybe she likes the smell of incense and this is some sort of reverse psychology method of getting me to play her Strawberry Alarm Clock’s greatest hits. Or maybe the world as I know it could all be some sort of big Truman Show-like social experiment that I’m a part of and everyone is in on it. But this soul patch, this is the turning point for me. I’ve figured out what’s going on. Now I’ve just got to figure out how to escape to the real world...
Man, I’ve got to stop watching Lost. I’m really starting to creep myself out.
4 8 15 16 23 42
style was associated with hippies (a la Frank Zappa) and blues/jazz musicians from the 50s and 60s. I wouldn’t have immediately thought, “Man, am I turning into a hippie?” if I hadn’t been asked earlier that day (by my friend Derek) if Dawn and I were “turning into hippies” because we’ve been buying a lot of organic foods for the past few months. But that was pretty much as far as it went – that was about the height of my paranoia until Angela innocently commented on my MySpace blog about the derivation of the name "soul patch." I had always thought it was the association with the musicians that apparently coined the style, but thought I should check it out to make sure. What I uncovered was something far more than my incredibly vulnerable psyche could handle. In my search, I came across a message board on which someone said they thought soul patches were worn to "signal that you were gay." Someone replied to this saying that was untrue; that it was mainly worn by guys that were "really vain." Further, on this same message board the soul patch was referred to as a "flavor savor," and another name that was so crude that I won't bother to repeat it here (for those of you with good imaginations, the term was an amalgam of the word "man" and a part of the female anatomy). It was also stated that only hippies and beatnik poets should wear soul patches, but nowhere did it tell me where the term came from. Regardless, I was no longer thinking about the origin of the moniker; I was now contemplating whether or not people think I’m either: 1) Gay, 2) A Hippie, 3) A Jazz Musician, 4) A Beatnik Poet, 5) Really vain, or 6) Apolo Anton Ohno. Maybe this is why no one says anything about it – they think I’m having an identity crisis. Maybe that’s why my wife hasn’t decided if she likes it or not – she’s waiting to see if I start speaking in haiku or become a really good bongo or saxophone player…or maybe she likes the smell of incense and this is some sort of reverse psychology method of getting me to play her Strawberry Alarm Clock’s greatest hits. Or maybe the world as I know it could all be some sort of big Truman Show-like social experiment that I’m a part of and everyone is in on it. But this soul patch, this is the turning point for me. I’ve figured out what’s going on. Now I’ve just got to figure out how to escape to the real world...Man, I’ve got to stop watching Lost. I’m really starting to creep myself out.
4 8 15 16 23 42
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