Dear America’s Youth,
I write today to address an issue of grave, severe importance:
Improper moustache use.
I know, I know; You grew that sketchy, shadowy patch of shame out of irony at first. “Wouldn’t it be just classic,” you thought, “if I intentionally made myself look like an idiot? What a laugh!” Well, no one is laughing now, my young friend. What started as a nice “ha-ha” has become more of an “ew, ” and it’s time to rethink things. When I see you on the train, your long greasy curls shoveled to one side and the rolled cuffs on your skinny jeans rising far above your ankles, I wonder to myself, sometimes aloud, “Where have we gone wrong?”
I want you to know that I don’t blame you. Not fully. The grown adults of this world have been too lax in sewing the seeds of self respect in your fertile young minds. You’ve been left to grow unattended, and have gone horribly, horribly awry. Now is not the time, however, to think about who is to blame. Now is the time to get out the razor and put that awful thing out of its misery. There’s no shame in admitting that you can’t grow respectable facial hair. Do the right thing. Stand up tall and shave that business off.
I know that, if we all do our part, we can save the place of the moustache in our society. Wear it well, or don’t wear it at all.
Thank you.