Last week while talking with reporters, Utah Sen. Mitt Romney debuted a week’s worth of scruff on the front bottom quadrant of his head.
And for 48 hours, the nation’s imagination ran wild with what a scruffy Romney might mean for our republic.
I, personally, pictured Romney with a full beard, driving up to the Senate Office Building on a motorcycle (which he would refer to as his “hog”), adjusting his leather jacket, removing his aviators, then sauntering inside the chamber to introduce legislation that would provide every family with an electric guitar and a case of Mountain Dew.
Not even diet. The hard stuff.
The look spurred a good amount of chatter among Romney’s constituents.
Together Utahns wondered — were we about to live through the devil-may-care era in the sunset of Romney’s storied political career? Would he buck current political trends more than he already has, imbued with the confidence only a full face of facial hair can provide? Would he become the defacto Senate minority leader due to strength of chin?
These are questions to which we will never have answers because before we could say ZZ Top or Jeremiah Johnson, the beard was gone.
The only reason Romney gave for shaving and thereby snatching our collective dream from beneath our feet was “it was itchy.” An explanation that won’t cut it (shave it?) for me.
oH, wAs ThE bEaRd ItChY?
Let’s talk about slight discomforts in the name of aesthetics. As a female, I struggle to sympathize.
Once a month, I get hair ripped from under my eyebrows with hot wax. The other night I wore three-inch heels with pointed toes to an event, and by the end of the night, I could not walk. I have an appointment for something called “micro needling” which is exactly what the name implies.
I wish itching was the worst of my problems.
And no, no one is making me do these things, and I have only my own vanity to blame (and also society’s beauty standards, but that’s another piece for another time).
But I would take all these measures and more if it meant I could unite our nation.
And, yes, I believe our senator’s beard can unite the nation. Even if there’s disagreement as to whether or not the facial hair is a look that works for Mitt (and there is disagreement), just simply talking about it seems to have brought us together.
In a time when we’ve grown siloed in our echo chambers, we need events or people or salt and pepper stubble that can transcend the divide and engage us all in the same conversation.
Like when John Carpenter called his dad before winning “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,” or when Will Smith slapped Chris Rock at the Academy Awards, Mitt’s beard could be our topic of conversation du jour, du mois, or de l’année. Water coolers in every office could be surrounded by colleagues, setting aside their differences, and coming together to engage in heated debate over the merits of the beard.
Plus, think what it could do for Utah’s stock if it was a senator from our state at the center of all these conversations. Think of the pork we could pull!
So please, Senator. Bring it back.
If not for the country and the state, at the very least, do it for Ann.