Ginger Beard: The Glory Days
In the innocent age before selfie ubiquity, the above photo was originally taken by a stranger high atop the Space Needle. Why am I clothed in a red beard whose age is roughly equivalent to the baby boy my wife is holding? Call it my Ginger Period, a pre-hipster homage to the beloved 1890s.
There is no denying it: the ginger beard twelve years on is a shadow of its former self. The glory days have faded into gray days. However, I have found an oil which is said to have mythical, restorative powers. Check back here in twelve years.