In eight illustrated books, elegantly held together in a single beribboned case, McSweeney's Issue 28 explores the state of the fable. For the next two days, it's $5 off. - - - - |
GROW ME THE WAY TO CARSON CITY: A MUSTACHIOED FIELD TRIP BY MICHAEL AMES - - - - Gary Hagen was dressed in a conservative orange sweater and tan chinos as he stood just outside the gaming floor of the Pinon Plaza Casino in Carson City, Nevada. His mustache was more flamboyantly outfitted. It was waxed, with the left curlycue dyed a deep red, the right a colonial blue, and the bushy middle frosted white. The middle was equipped with a flashing American Flag pendant that could have been stolen off Ann Richard's lapel. He looked not so much patriotic as very strange. Gary was talking with Bruce Hagen (no relation), a big, soft-spoken man whose full, dark beard was accompanied by a styled mustache with waxed ends and a trimmed mid-lip to facilitate neat eating, drinking, and lip-reading. Neither Hagen was gambling; they aren't the risk-taking types. The two were waiting for the bus that would take them, along with rest of the contestants in the World Beard and Mustache Championships, to Big Red's Old 395 Grill. Bruce was listening as Gary relayed a mustache anecdote from a Valentine's Day past: "... so for half a day I had women's Valentine's earrings hanging off my mustache and I thought 'God, do I look stupid.'" As the two Hagens tilted back in a unison guffaw, neither seemed to notice the steady stream of staring passersby, unwavering eyes fixed on Gary's steadily blinking 'stache. Noncompeting guests at the Pinon Plaza were privy to the dainty affectations required of men with dramatically protruding facial hair. Friedrich Schaedel, whose goatee points a dangerous fifteen inches up and away from his face, would politely turn to the side in the hotel hallway to let pedestrians pass unharmed. In the restaurant, those brandishing hairy creations spanning a foot or more were seated alone on one side of the breakfast booth. Gary Hagen is a checker at a Safeway in Gilroy, CA. By company policy, his handlebars are considered unacceptable for employees, but his bosses turn a blind eye. Gary is also a member of the Horseless Carriage Club of America and the Model-T Club of America; and since the conclusion of this year's WBMC, Gary Hagen is the reigning and first-ever American World Handlebar Mustache Champion, category four of eighteen awarded at this first American-hosted WBMC in this state capital on Nevada Day, Nov. 1. The international event drew competing delegates, from twelve states and eleven countries, judged in categories ranging from the heavily sculpted and sprayed, lacquered, and shaped Imperial mustaches (think Kaiser Wilhelm I) to the free-flowing Full Beard Natural. Prizes were awarded for the youngest beard: seventeen-year-old Cameron Bynum from nearby Reno; oldest competitor: eighty-two-year-old Alf Jarrald of Manchester, England, whose immense sideburns won him second place overall; and farthest traveled: Bram Rosenfeld, currently of Hong Kong, who schlepped his mustache 6,954 miles for the event. Once the seventeen categories had been judged, a final Best-in-Show trophy was bestowed upon Karl Heinz Hille and his snow-white Imperial, which extends upwards from his cheeks in an impressive face-surrounding half-moon. Hille's victory had as much to do with his outfit as it did the hair on his face. His shimmering three-piece silver suit, accented by silver top hat, silver-rimmed spectacles, silver ascot, silver-capped polished cane, and white gloves were all carried with perfect posture, perfectly timed cane taps, and perfect astonishment when he eventually won it all. Hille had unseated another German, Willie Chevalier, who could not defend his title due to an early October construction accident. Chevalier's world-besting beard was ensnarled in a power drill and ripped from his face, causing disfiguring injuries and nearly costing him an eye. In his absence, and in honor of this tragedy, WBMC-organizer Phil Olsen decided to emblazon the official event T-shirts with Chevalier's prize beard from the 2001 event. Olsen only later learned that Chevalier's Hofen Beard Club is widely reviled by many other German clubs, and that putting the ex-champ's mug on the shirts was akin to "asking Red Sox fans to buy a T-shirt with Derek Jeter's picture on it." Though the Germans managed to dominate the field despite Chevalier's tragic downfall, the Americans pulled off a handful of upsets. Event judge and Carson City Mayor Ray Masayko says there was no home-turf favoritism even though more Americans walked away with world titles than had been crowned in the WBMC's entire thirteen-year history. The next installment will be held in Berlin in 2005. It is uncertain if the not-so-fresh-faced American champions will make the trip to defend their titles. After the nine-hour-long contest was over, Gary Hagen was back in the lobby, still donning the dapper horseless-carriage costume he wears for contests or when touring in his 1914 Model-T. His black leather motoring gloves laid across the concierge desk, he gracefully absorbed compliments on his outfit and his win. Then, turning a speculative eye toward the ceiling, he asked no one in particular, "How much is plane fare to Berlin?"
OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:
Inaugural Speeches from Our Action Heroes By G. Xavier Robillard Club Existential Dread - Part I By Jonathan Ames Have You Ever Eaten a Baby? By Michael Ian Black Our Town Apologizes By Matthew Simmons Dispatch Wednsedays By Sarah Garb |
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