Only on Bowen would a fundraiser like this turn into a full-blown event, drawing a crowd of people dedicated to having fun and celebrating the simple act of shaving.
On Saturday night, Gary Anderson and some of his closest friends and family all gathered at the Bowen Island Pub for a ritualistic, ceremonial shaving of the moustache in honor of Movember. During the month of November, men attempt to grow a moustache - called a "Mo" - to help raise money for and awareness of men's health issues such as prostate cancer. Canada, to date, has raised $39,541,188.00 and the number continues to rise, according to the official Movember website: http://ca.movember.com/about.
During Nancy Lee and Terri Pijnenburg's two-week Movember campaign, the two ladies, each sporting a fake Mo, raised a grand total of $713.47. Anderson (a betting man) decided to shave his stache but only if Lee could raise an extra $500 above and beyond her current efforts. The drive to see Anderson without his trusty, long time compadre was overwhelming; not only did they achieve their goal, they exceeded it by raising $1185.28. Supporting Anderson by agreeing to shave publicly were Todd Pearson, Rick Stedman and Cliff Spears. All three men braved the shears as Lee carefully trimmed off each man's Mo and even a little off the top in one case. Adding to the suspense, Anderson decided to go last. To set the stage, a special rendition to the tune of Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash was written and performed by Roger Arndt. When it was finally Anderson's turn, his lovely wife Vickie got to do the shaving honors. Like a pro she gleefully tackled the "handlebars" first; as the cheers in the pub grew, so did the anticipation to see a clean shaven face until the last whisker was gone. Anderson's daughters, both present, couldn't remember the last time (if ever) they had seen their father without his familiar, well crafted Mo.
Anderson may have lost his moustache that evening but in the end gained so much more - a hand at collecting a sizable donation for a worthy cause, a happy wife, and an upper lip no one had seen in over 35 years.
Debra Stringfellow
