The top 10 beards in modern music, according to the San Francisco Weekly. I find it hard to see why ?uestlove (pictured at right) is only #9 on the list. And where on earth is Sam Beam?

When you're a hirsute man like me, it's easy to get beard envy. In public, some men can't help but notice boobs or legs. My eyes are more often drawn to beards with a fullness and vitality I'll never attain with my coarse whiskers.

After a couple years with a goatee, I grew my first full beard around seven years ago. It took weeks to grow in. And like this letter-to-the-editor writer from 1890, that pognotrophic cultivation proved awkward:

I began to pass through the dark shadow of a peculiar experience, not less trying to the soul than those other inevitable crises of the conscious existence, such as the first pair of long trousers, the first silk hat, the first request for a kiss from lips unseen in the twilight, the public ordeal of becoming a member of the church or of becoming a husband in one, the first evening party, and the first realization of encroaching old age. Of all these emotional trials I contend that the deliberate and persistent act of letting the beard grow in the only place where it will grow calls for the most exalted courage.
 
Read full letter from "E.N.B." to the NY Times (PDF)

I might not recount my experiences quite so dramatically, but still, it was a time of uncertainty and doubt.

Sometimes I wonder what I'd look like without my beard. I'd look younger, for sure, but concealing my baby face was a major motivation for growing it in the first place.

Beards aren't exactly embraced in corporate America, but so far I don't think my facial hair or shaggy hair have ever prevented me from advancing in the workplace.

If I were to shave, my children might not recognize me; perhaps the same could be said of my friends. But I like my beard, and fortunately so does my wife. I can't foresee myself without it.