Yeah - that's me. When the director of the local BIA called me up and explained that they needed someone for what will become the Annual Pancake Breakfast with Santa, well, how do you say "no" to that?
It was just a couple of hours in an ill-fitting red suit with a scratchy synthetic beard and it was one of the most rewarding things I've done in a long time. I highly recommend it.
If you look closely, I swear you can see a twinkle about the eyes.
On the same morning I snapped a couple of pictures of our Heritage Committee's little park covered with a blanket of snow.
After playing Santa, it was time for this to go away:
Here we are with goatee and massive sideburns. I came down and asked the family what they thought. The two little ladies didn't like this look at all. The boy, however, loved it.
So - I went upstairs and tried again. "How about this?" I asked.
"No way!" said my daughter.
"Too Amish." said my wife.
"Awesome!" said my son, who really didn't want me to shave the beard at all.
My final attempt arrived downstairs to an almost uniform reaction of, "Hey, that's kind of cool."
The last bastion of facial hair - the soul patch, though to be fair, this patch was a little more soulful than most. The only problem was I didn't really like it. I mean, hey - I'm 42 years old - I'm way too old for a soul patch.
So I shaved it off. Then I went outside and built this with the kids:
Too old for a soul patch? Maybe.
Too old to build Snowmen? Never!