Thursday, November 14, 2013


Being Movember, it's a great time for growing awesome, manly mustaches.  This year we have some great guys from our stores group  participating who are some of the most enthusiastic guys I've had the pleasure of doing Movember with.  With that said, I'd like to share a letter written to one of our participants, Al Leyva.  
 His eyes are up here, don't stare at the moustache.
Dear AL,

Mah man. If being a gangsta feels this good, then damn it feels good to be a gangsta.

Just a few months ago I was ready to quit on you AL. I thought you’d forgotten about me and everything I’d done for you. I was neglected. Neglected and embarrassed. My how things have changed.

Now I can’t express to you how incredible my life has become. Seriously, I literally cannot voice what I’ve been feeling. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to write it down…you’re probably surprised I can hold a pen and write legibly.

I thought our friendship was over. It felt like the Eagles breaking up all over again. I felt you were purposely hiding me – keeping me a secret behind layers of your own personal insecurity.

You never introduced me to your other friends. They sounded like great people who I’d totally dig - I mean I could literally hear them talking to you, but I was never given the chance to shine even though I know I could have carried the team.

Thanks to you, I spun into a deep depression.  My skin grew pasty and white. 

I tell ya I was on my last legs. Or something like that.

And then one day you put the Bic razor away, and everything just seemed to click.

I saw the light. And I mean that quite literally. I saw the sunshine. heck– I felt the sunshine. Come to think of it, I felt like a big ol’ t-bone steak grillin…on a grill…a grill of sunshine.

I know you probably hear this all the time – but you’ve changed my whole perspective on things. I complete you man. And I can’t thank you enough. But what I can do is be there for you.

You’ve released a bullet-proof tiger into the wild and you know as well as I there’s no  way you can get a bullet-proof tiger back into it’s cage. Or under its covers for that matter. It’s on now.

Every barbeque, every pool party, every tailgate, every jump ball, every tug’o’war – hell, every DAY – I’ll be there for you. Every time the sky’s out, I’ll be out - and I’ll be ready to party.

I guess what I’m saying is I feel like we’ve been given a second chance. Jordan coming back, wearing the 4-5, reuniting with Pippen. I’m your Pippen man. We’ve been given a chance to do all the things we never did when you were too afraid to show my beautiful, muscular faces in public.

I mean, I know we go way back, and we’ve always been chummy. Some people might go so far as to say we’ve been “attached at the lip.” And anatomically speaking, sure, I can see where they’re coming from. But there was still distance between us. A small distance. But a distance nonetheless. I could tell you were ashamed of me.
  
To be honest – your beard used to get way too much credit for your athleticism, charm, ruggedness and good looks. I used to be so  jealous of your precious beard. The way you two would run around together in the sunlight. Acting like I didn’t even exist.
And don't even get me started on your “guns.” Always with the guns.
Wed go to the lake, the sun would come out and boom the guns would come out.
 While I remained shrouded. Hidden in the shadows.

Did you ever stop to think how that made me feel?
The answer to that question AL, is no, no you did not.

But it’s ok.  I can’t blame you. I’m just glad you’ve finally come around. Things have changed AL– there’s no denying it. I’m sure you’ve noticed that ever since you made the move to Movember, it’s no longer all about the beards and guns. There’s a new sheriff in town. 

Ask me if I give a damn. Your beard and guns can cry me a river. And honestly, I don't hear them complaining now that we're throwing down 720 tomahawk jams in front of all the lady folk.

So to make a long story short. Thank you AL. Whenever you need me, just look down, I’ll be chillin directly above your lip.

Because that’s where I live.

Love,
Mustache