thumb click

moustaches are eccentric, and nowadays fairly uncommon facial hair additions.

lonely, sub-nose tatters of unbrushed hair, often dry, unkempt, dirty and scratchy.

or accompanied with beards, in varying degrees of untamedness.

usually the moustache is relegated to off-work no-shave periods, most men preferring to keep clean-shaven to confirm to corporate cleanliness.

unless you're my dad of course, who has fastidiously maintained his signature snor since his misleadlingy non-piloting days of the air force.

many years before he met my mother.

and long before i learnt to not know him without it.

i think seeing him with no moustachio would violate over 24 years of accumulated physical identification, and even though it has evolved from black magnum to grey walrus, his key facial feature does more than "underline importance" as he says, but is now an essential component of his personality.

but other men, without fear of being called "leather-lip", only grow their facial hair on select occasions, like during the month of november, otherwise known to charitable males as "movember".

like my brother jamie did these last four weeks, with continuous updates on the south african movember facebook page.

after four weeks of itchiness and no shaving, and assuring women that it would soon be gone, his 'tache reached cowboy-style and almost handle bar proportions, with a strange collection of bristling blonde hairs.

but apart from being a rolling joke and a reason to post bizarre photos of twirling waxed beards and ron burgundy on his group page, movember was actually more of a personal outreach initiative than i expected.

something i realized today when i went with him to hand over his make-shift plastic cheque.

to a lady named ilana friedman from magical moments, a charity that contributes to the welfare and happiness of underprivileged, neglected and abused children in the greater johannesburg area.

including nomzamo day care, which we visited this afternoon in alexandra, on the other side of the highway from the high-rises and 5-star hotels of sandton.

in this historically segregated area, only a few kilometres away from R60 restaurant sandwiches, toddlers don't even have access to public parks to play in.

or green areas in which to learn, laugh and develop their gross motor skills.

and as we drove through a sandy, mostly- mud bricked neighbourhood of "alex", directed by the resident care-giver rosalina, i was humbled by the discrepancy between life on this side of the M1, and the fact that i'd never given it a second thought when making my way through traffic.

but when we walked into the corrugated-iron day care house, to a room of over forty smiling children decorated in colourful cardboard, i felt happy that i'd been given the opportunity to experience life in a completely different space.

and to see the appreciation of my brother's donation so gratefully received, even though he was a tall stranger wearing a carefully cultivated top-lip frank zappa, who even gave one of the kids in the crowd his sunglasses to wear.

and to hear the sing-song "thank you... (*clap* *clap*) very much (*clap* *clap*)" chant from a group of kids we'd never even seen before, and to attempt afterwards to click their eager little fingers with a mutual thumb clicking handshake-thing while saying "shap!"

it was difficult to perfect the click noise with such tiny digits, but their enthusiasm was so moving, and while surrounded by their energetic and insistent bustling to get in line for finger snaps, i had to fight back the tears.

it's amazing to think that jamie only had to look ridiculous for a month to create such a positive outcome.

and that by just allowing his facial hair to grow naturally, with very little effort, that he could encourage such generosity.

but mostly, it was so inspiring to connect with such selfless people, and such beaming toddlers, even if it was only for a short handover and photo-shoot.

and only enough time for a quick succession of bent-over thumb-clicks.