When George Met Barbara

Cookie duster, dirt squirrel, lip luggage, nose neighbor, face lace, mouth brow, or simply the prosaic stache. While they go by many names, not all mustaches are created equal. This is the tale of a particular soup strainer that changed the world—and the man it rode in on.

In his teenage years, far ahead of his peers, Esau had grown a full Selleck by the time his feet could reach the pedals on his father's Plymouth Duster. In the 80s with this stashe, his swatch, and Walkman he was coveted by the most prestigious upperclassman gangs in school.

Esau's brother Jacob always coveted his 'stache, so much so that he managed to convince Esau to sell him the magical talisman that allowed it to become so bushy so quickly. Unbeknownst to Esau Jacob planned to use the power of the 'stache to win the favor of their father Isaac.

"Grow up, grow out, grow high and low" Jacob chanted, talisman in hand. As he enunciated the final w, the magic began. What was once a dusting of stubble on Jacob's upper lip became a 'stache that would make Magnum PI blush. But would it be good enough to win over his father?

Jacob walked over to where his father sat, head buried in a newspaper. After a moment, his father looked up and stared at his son’s face. “Nice face-bush, Jake,” he said as he went back to his newspaper. "Also, that thing in your hand is glowing."

Jake blinked. "It's not glowing." His father's face went white. "It's a ghost, Jake." He stood up and walked over to Jake, placing a hand on his shoulder.

A real life, actual ghost. He always imagined himself acting more decisively in a moment like this, taking some sort of heroic or evasive action. Instead he stood completely still, paralyzed in fear, as the specter came within an inch of his face.

The ghost pulled out a Q-Tip and started gently cleaning his ears. "Don't try this at home. I'm a ghost."

His segue reminded me of the recent "top 5 rappers" thread in the East Saint Rutherford Boys School Alumni (1996-2003) Slack channel. I understand why Q-Tip and Ghostface are so often cited, but Mark Wahlberg? Je ne comprend pas! I ignored the ghost as hard as I could.

"Good grace that thing is annoying. I had the feeling that summoning a ghost over a zoom halloween extravaganza wasn't a great idea. I wonder if the magical talisman works the way around too" he thought, while combing his voluptuous moustache.

He turned the talisman over and examined the backside. There was a small recession near the top; he cleaned it out with the q-tip and gently inserted the magic bean. In a flash of blinding light, the annoying ghost was transformed. Standing before him was George H. W. Bush.

His gleaming visage emerged from a thousand points of light. The people rejoiced at the promise of no new taxes. But it was not to be. Taxes went up. Bush was unfamiliar with standard 1980s grocery store technology. A saxophone solo wailed in the distance, and Bush shuddered.

Just as George was at his lowest point, Barbara walked in. Her brilliant white hair and perfectly arranged pants suite always made her the center of attention in any Washington gathering.

Barbara always took his breath away and this time was no different. The magic began when he saw first saw her climb out of her Plymouth duster and persisted through countless adventures: ghost encounters, Q-tip concerts, bad facial hair... you name it. It was a love for the ages.