Got the new facial hair trimmed by my barber last week. For some reason, I thought the experience would be more of an experience, kind of like when a spaghetti western gunfighter rides in from the sage and sits for his first shave in a month.

Mostly, it was whiskers falling on my lips and chit chat about the recent holidays.

Friends and family say they like my new look, but then again, they are the nice ones at the table. In my circles, my role is to be the one who calls out bad haircuts, ridiculous clothing choices, microscopic personal deficits, so it’s difficult for me to believe anyone being complimentary.

Alice approves this mustache, which is all that matters. I’m a knucklehead, but I know where the buck stops. It’s with Alice. Just so we’re clear on that.

Not an alt-right jackass. Just a jackass.

Now when I look in the morning mirror, I don’t see a resemblance to Steve Bannon, alt-right jackass. Thank merciful God. To me, I look a little bit like a schnauzer, which is totally rad.

I don’t despise Bannon because his team beat my team. I despise him because he is on the wrong side of history. Titanically. Other voices have documented his putridity far better than I could here, so I leave you to Google it on your own.

Even when I woke up super bloated, tired eyed and jaundice souled, I always knew my resemblance to Bannon was merely passing, and I never forgot mirrors are famously cruel in the morning.

The mustachioed Dr. Sidney Freedman might have diagnosed my condition as some form of reverse Freudian projection, that I am worried some of the terrible things I see in Bannon I also see in myself.

Yep. Precisely.

Let there be peace in the valley…

Growing an ultra-classy Van Dyke is a lame form of protest. What it is perfectly, however, is a reminder every time I scratch it that I can choose to be the person I want to be.

FLASH!!! Personal growth is hard.

I’ve tried for years to tone down my smart mouth. I don’t enjoy hurting the feelings of my friends and family. Sincerely apologizing for a remark, I belatedly realized, is nowhere the same as not crushing someone’s ego in the first place.

Working with students on their writing has taught me to be more diplomatic. My wife is patiently corrective. I try not to talk as much, which strikes some folks as anti-social, but that’s a persception improvement, believe it or not.

I’m still a verbal wrecking ball. But I’m trying real hard, Ringo. I’m trying real hard.

This personal grooming story grew way serious.

Didn’t it, though?

Is it hypocrisy to slam Steve Bannon, alt-right jackass, after detailing how I’m striving to speak more carefully? Not at all.

When you publish hate piece after hate piece, it’s only reasonable to question your character, your ethics, your basic human decency. The same with playing footsie on Twitter with hate groups.

What can I say? People will take you at your word.