In the Navy, we have a time-honored tradition known as the cruise ’stache. You are away from home, on deployment, and suddenly your upper-lip begins to scream. For the warm, gentle blanket of your own ‘stache-li-ness.

You want to let your inner-Magnum out and rock your Walrus. Undoubtably, you are working hard on deployment. And the lip-catapillar is your reward. Who you gonna impress anyway?

So you do it. You grow a masterpiece. Preferably along with your squadron, your unit, your division.

Some folks even designate a month and add competitive flair to the whole affair. Mustache March, or any month that begins with M. Or not. July is perfectly acceptable. As is September. Why not try: September Stache-o-fur?

Take a peek over at Thomas Selleck. He is displaying what we refer to (in the Navy) as 3M. Mustache, Marine ballcap, and Mauser handgun.

He even wins extra points for wearing a sweater with, get this, no t-shirt underneath! Do not try this at home, work, or anywhere! You are most certainly not Magnum. Behold, but do not try to become. . .

You know who also wins extra points? The Marine Corps. Note Thomas is wearing a Marine unit’s ballcap in Navy colors. I don’t blame Marines for embracing the blue and gold. Scratch any Jarhead and there lurks a Sailor underneath.

True story: I was playing basketball with a Marine friend back when we were both E-3s. And he turns to me and says: I tell you man, I really should have been a squid.

International word of warning for us Yankees, do not try to compete with our mustachioed brethren from across the sea, the Brits. Them boys can grow a ‘stache overnight! Little known fact: 1% of all male United Kingdom’ers can merely think of a ‘stache and one magically sprouts, real-time. Curled like ram-horns. ‘Tis a sight to witness.

So profuse are their skills that their stiff, upper-lip hair twirls both ways and can even cook a three-course meal of haggis, grey peas, and fried fish wrapped in tomorrow’s newspaper. To say nothing of pouring a chilled pint of pale ale, so light it’s not perceptible to the human eye. Invisibly refreshing, it is. 

Yes ‘Muricans, we wield the power of the Magnum. But he may be an outlier. England has glandular superiority with respect to lip-thatching. How do you think they nabbed the name England, anyhow?

Okay, so we have covered two angles of our title, the Navy and ‘staches. What does the third leg, Anthony Weiner, have to do with anything? Anthony Wee-na, is that not the name of that disgraced politician from New Yawk? Who resigned after a ‘wittle blue-ha-ha?

Yup and yup. Señor Weiner is back in the news. With big-time exposure. Well, different-time exposure. Hmm, I better just avoid that word. Exposure.

So what has Tony el Tigre done? He has gone and grown himself a man-stache! Taste the rainbow. . .

Carefully examine the ‘stache-a-rooski for signs as to his state of shave-a-ment. Observe the ever-so-slight downturn of the lip-music. A handle-bar in the making, no?

Subconsciously, Monsieur Weiner is saying: yes, I am a weensy bad-boy. But not too bad. But definitely a boy. A man-in-training. Notice, he can’t pull off 3M like Magnum. Here, he has to settle for a flaccid 2M, mustache and Mets hat.

Heed the clenched jaw, ala Maverick and Iceman, Navy locker-room, Top Gun, 1986. You’re dangerous, Mav! A little about the Wee-Na’s jaunt around town, with wife Huma Abedin, sporting his new lip-fur:

Disgraced former pol Anthony Weiner stepped out to do some Black Friday shopping in SoHo sporting a moustache reminiscent of the one made infamous by-

Whoah Nelly! Go to the New York Post link above for all the low-down, high-brow details. The Wee-Na really should have hidden in-cog-neato for a couple more years. Myself, I would have moved to the Falkland Islands, far out of texting range.