These are the stories that shaped my life, these are my Memoirs.
Joe Hoover is the critically acclaimed author of a bit of graffiti on the bathroom wall of Bishop Bell School, Eastbourne saying “Mr Ring smells”. He can currently be found working on his latest project “Shopping List” wherein lemons duel alongside eggs as well as covering current themes such as pasta (twisty ones), tinned tomatoes, and the often controversial subject of bin liners.
Once upon a time in history a mustache would maketh the man, it would be a symbol of his standing, his power and his unadulterated manhood.
Throughout our times, important figures in society, proud figures have born a mustache. But this faded over time.
In my childhood I recall mustaches being something to fear, long gone were the icons of old, only remembered on the back of a bank-note or the pages of our history books. The symbolism of a mustache had altered.
In more recent times, mustachioed men have been the villains, our war-torn past is littered with wrong doers hiding behind their bristly upper lips, Adolf Hitler, Stalin and Saddam Hussain. Still taking on the mantle of a mustache from its origins of powerful men but using it for evil.
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“Bloomin’ pansy!” my parents would declare at the sight of the latest band to have a record in the Hit Parade, singing a tune called Y.M.C.A. referring to the gentleman displaying a mustache proudly.
Already in some people’s eyes the mustache had taken on a seedy slant, taken up by leather clad homosexuals (this was long before having a GBF was de rigour), porn stars of the era would be sporting a mustache as they writhed around to a saxophonic soundtrack.
More alarmingly, mustaches also became the choice of perverts, serial killers and pedophiles. I remember growing up and for every hideous story on the news the perpetrator would be wearing a mustache, of course it would be unkept thus quickly distancing himself from the mustaches of gentlemen, but for many people they only saw the mustache. It quickly fell out of favour as people did not want to be tarnished with the dirty old man brush.
It was due to this shift in public perception that had clouded my view growing up and even in my young adulthood I still harboured suspicions of people hiding behind a mustache.
In my first flat-share, I happened to be gazing out of the window one sprightly afternoon whence a car pulled up, and out stepped a burly man, his clothes from a bygone era, a shirt busting at the belly, slip on shoes, hair unkempt and of course – a mustache.
I cried out to my house mates “Come hither flatmates, there is a pervo on our street!” Silence spread the room as I feared I may be in the house alone. “Oh my God! He’s coming towards our house, he is, he’s heading down our pathway!”
I ran up to my room, shutting the door behind me, the face of all those evil men who had been found guilty of heinous offences over the years were cast on this one mustachioed face now knocking on my front door.
The man turned out to be a flatmates father.
I still harboured my suspicions though.
londonsurvival 
pouringmyartout
/ October 11, 2012Almost died laughing. You need to at least repost my one about why 70’s porn mustaches only work on some people. Or just use some of the pictures… like where I switched famous people’s staches around.
joehoover
/ October 11, 2012I haven’t figured how to move aorund your blog yet. That’s why I put up a list of all my posts as my friends were complaining, they do make it difficult sometimes. But if you have a search option I can look up mustache.
As you have done them all already yohould join in the Facebook group, it may end up reaching a lot of people by the time Movember comes around
El Guapo
/ October 11, 2012Alas that the sins of so few (okay, a lot of) bad eggs could sully the mind of a young impressionable Joe Hoover.
Madame Weebles
/ October 11, 2012Of course, even if he was the father of a flatmate doesn’t mean he couldn’t still be a serial killer, perv, or pedophile. Did he have the big thick glasses? Because they always have the big thick glasses too. Why is that the costume? I never did understand that.
joehoover
/ October 12, 2012You’d think if they want to go about their sordid business undetected they would work on a disguise from their normal look.
life is a bowl of kibble
/ October 11, 2012Funny! Any memories of women with mustaches?
joehoover
/ October 11, 2012How did you know? Of course!
benzeknees
/ October 12, 2012I have great memories of my grandfather’s mustache (his cookie duster) & the way it would tickle when he kissed me!
joehoover
/ October 12, 2012Mine just smelt of pipe smoke 🙂
gingerfightback
/ October 12, 2012I felt the pain in this post Joe – I too remember seeing YMCA for the first time on Top of The Pops and my brother in law announcing how cool the leather clad biker with the big tache looked. This was a man who still hasn’t got over the death of Ac/DC first singer. Oh those innocent days of the 1970’s. Slip-ons are bastards though. Great stuff!
joehoover
/ October 12, 2012I hope your mother never overheard his comments. If my mum had an inkling back then she would have had a worry on her and come over all unnecessary.
gingerfightback
/ October 12, 2012My mum bless her never really understood anything to do with anything that wasn’t boiling bacon, cabbage, fearing god and using her spit on a hanky to clean my face. Homosexuality was something “The English” practiced and was therefore intrinsically evil. She died in blissful ignorance of most things but was happy!