A Letter to Tom’s Stache

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Dear Tom Selleck’s Mustache,

I address you as such because I am not sure if you answer to a name of your own. This being the case I pray that you are not opposed to my giving you a name for the sole sake of convenience.

A mustache so widely recognized and critically acclaimed such as yourself can not, of course, be given just any title. It must call to the mind of the speaker a certain level of unequaled grace as it rolls off of the tongue and pierces with startling clarity the atmosphere into which it is spoken. It can not be one name but must be three. One name must never be uttered without the companionship of its mates, unless it is a close friend that addresses you.

I recognize that you may already have a name. But as a believer in the power of faith I know that if my own moral compass points steadily to Spiritual North than the name that I choose will be the same as the one already given you. The name that I hear floating on the wind and whispering through the leaves and that is muttering gently to my heart is Monty James Morehouse Jr. So for convenience sake I shall refer to you not as Tom Selleck’s mustache, but as Monty James Morehouse Jr.

I have often found myself with one thing on my mind as I struggle through the monotony of life. It is the upper lip upon which you rest, dear friend. I can tell you, assuming you have the decency to keep an attitude of discretion, that the thought of you, unchanging and steady, has helped me through the rough times, has buoyed me up in times of sorrow, and sustained me in my brief spurts of anguish.

A specimen of facial hair so magnificent as yourself surely has a mind of its own that thinks and makes decisions upon which it act—whether the man which you are attached to considers the course of action wise or not. This is what has occupied my mind of late and left an air of distracted unease upon my soul.

I honor the man upon whose face you rest and dearest Monty (I shall assume I am entitled to call you Monty) and I revere you as a hallmark of my generation as well as that of my parents generation. The thought that you may have unsettled differences with your… well, your father… is greatly disturbing. Many a small and seemingly harmless dispute has grown unexpectedly and caused rifts too great to overcome, hurt feelings that cannot be repaired, and permanently ruptured relationships between loved ones. The thought that this may be your fate tears at my heart. You see Mr. Morehouse, rumors have filtered through our society only to fall on my sensitive ears. Rumors that there may be discontentment in your associations with Tom. This can not be! The rumors I have heard are concerned chiefly with Mr. Selleck’s affiliation with the NRA. I have heard that not only do you not support Tom in this cause, but that you agree with Rosie O’Donnell, who has argued this point with Tom in the past. I saw Tom on The View and to my horror it seemed that my fears were confirmed on this point. You chose not to accompany the man you helped see through hard times in Australia and the American West to a petty television interview. Instead Tom had to wear a beard that does not even deserve one name much less three.

I do not blame you or Mr. Selleck but beg you both to consider reconciliation if you haven’t already. Maybe I am jumping to conclusions. I hope I am. I love you both in a manner that is not shunned by society and hope that you can heed my council. If you can not work out your differences by yourselves than perhaps you need professional help.

Yours truly,
A concerned fan:
Mitchell Inkley

P.S.

–A note to Mr. Selleck. Dear Tom, please do not be angered by the ignorance of Monty. His Marxist views are doubtless a result of a lack of education. Be patient. Do not give up on him. Never abandon him. For your sake, for my sake, for the sake of mankind, Please.