Taking politics at face value

You know what would suck about being President? You could never, ever grow a beard.
I mean, I can’t grow a beard. But that’s a matter of genetics, not my position as the most powerful man in the free world. Give me a couple of weeks and I could come back with some facial hair. It would be the kind of thin, patchy beard that most people wouldn’t actually notice. It would look terrible and probably make small children weep. But I would know it was there and that’s what really matters.
Can you imagine what would happen if George Bush showed up at a press conference with the beginnings of a goatee? Nobody would hear a word he said. Every newscast for weeks would lead off with speculation about the Presidential facial hair and what it might mean for the country’s fortunes in Iraq or its plans for Iran. Is the President trying to impress someone? Did he lose his razor? Does he have an exit plan for this pseudo-hipster fashion statement?
It would be the most talked-about facial hair of all time, with the possible exception of Luke Perry’s soul patch on Beverly Hills 90210.
In fact, if the Republicans really want to get past this whole Mark Foley thing, they just need to talk George Bush into trying out a mustache. Maybe one of those curly Rollie Fingers/barbershop quartet deals.
It's not that beards can't be Presidential. According to CNN.com, five U.S. Presidents — Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford Hayes, James Garfield and Benjamin Harrison — had full beards when they served. A handful more had facial hair of some kind. Martin Van Buren had mutton chop sideburns, which is kind of like a beard for quitters. Of the 12 presidents between Lincoln and Taft, only two were entirely clean-shaven.
But things have gone downhill for hirsute Commanders in Chief in the century-plus since then. Harrison, elected in 1888, was the last President to serve with a beard, and Thomas Dewey, who had a mustache when he ran for President in 1944 and 1948, was the last candidate-with-facial-hair to have much success with voters. Jesse Jackson doesn't count.
But even Lincoln, our most famously bearded President -- to the point he looks mildly creepy in pictures where he doesn't have one -- didn't win election with a fuzzy face. He was clean-shaven when he worked as a lawyer in Illinois and still hadn't tossed the razor when he was first elected in 1860. He grew the beard between election and inauguration, reportedly at the advice of an 11-year-old girl, probably one of the best-qualified political advisers of all time. Then again, Lincoln didn't have CNN and Fox news standing ready to analyze the the socio-political implications of his five o'clock shadow. Presumably by the time he was up for re-election in 1864 the whole freed-the-slaves-and-restored-the-Union thing carried enough residual good will to overcome any hit in the polls caused by a few chin whiskers.
I don't know why we as a country prefer clean-shaven Presidents, but more than a century of election results don't lie. Even during periods when beards were fashionable for the general public, they were taboo at the ballot boxes. Were we afraid beards made our leaders look too sinister? Too creepy? Too much like Fidel Castro?
Why do we want our elected leaders to be powerful enough to command the world's greatest army but not so masculine-looking they could put on a flannel shirt and film a guest spot in a Brawny commercial?
Why is it OK for George W. Bush to show off for TV cameras by clearing brush on his ranch but not OK for the President of the United States to grow a Van Dyke if thinks it makes him look cool?
Some of you probably think this is a frivolous question. You think this is all just coincidence. But what did Al Gore do as soon as he lost the election in 2000? No, I mean after he complained about voter fraud and demanded a recount. You know, once he actually accepted it was over? That's right. He grew a big ol' beard.
Think about that for a second and tell me I'm wrong.