I have no memory of my Dad without a mustache.
He started growing it sometime after high school and, while he has added and removed the occasional beard, goatee and sideburns his upper lip has remained comfortably, albeit creepily, covered. Fashions change, ties became skinny, then fat, then skinny again but my Dad has steadfastly refused to remove the push broom that has given our family photos that special panache cousins and friends have come to expect.
Looking back, so much of what defines me as a person and a man comes from my father. He taught me how to throw a baseball (poorly), how to ride a bike (acceptably) and the best way to make a cocktail (inside of a pineapple). Dad taught me the joys of running and of sitting on the couch watching movies, he taught me that people are to be respected and life is not to be taken too seriously. Dad taught me that what defines you as a man isn't how strong or smart or rich you are, but treating people right even if it does you no good.
I sometimes wonder what life would be like without my Dad. So much of what I think of as "common sense" are really things I picked watching my Dad. It scares me to think what I would be like if I didn't have his (and my Mom's) examples to follow. One of the reasons I do Movember is because everyone deserves to grow up with a healthy, energetic Dad and testicular cancer, which will kill 370 men this year and prostate cancer, which affects someone new every 2.2 MINUTES are an affront to a world where every kid deserves to learn how to throw a baseball, tie a knot and dismiss the Eagles as "Corporate Rock" from their Dad.
I'm taking a stand. I'm growing a mustache, albeit a substantially less impressive one than my Dad's in support of Men's health. I'd really appreciate it if you could donate to my campaign here.