Showing posts with label beard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beard. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

The razor's edge

I realize there are a lot of important things going on in the world. The shithole president is dismantling our democracy piece by piece. There are shootings virtually every day in the news. Hurricane Florence just wreaked havoc on the Carolinas. The deficit has swelled to an unheard of $898 billion. It's a stressful time, and sometimes it feels like all it's going to take is one more thing to break us.

Well, I hate for you to find out this way, but we as a nation have reached a tipping point—a pivotal moment in time where history will judge our actions on yet one more decision that will effect all of us in one way or another.

Should Alex Trebek keep his newly grown beard, or shave it off? I know. No one said it was going to be easy.

About a week ago, Trebek bounded out onto the Jeopardy stage with a newly grown, white beard. Contrasted against his expertly tailored and extremely pricey suit, it lent him a more rugged, worldly look that was not so much that of a well-known, long-running game show host as the third runner-up in the Kern County regional Ernest Hemingway lookalike competition.

Rugged in the way he could look in the mirror now, and grip the one true thought that he was truly alone. Not wanting to, but knowing that despite the stillness of the dark, he could do nothing to prevent morning from making its appointed rounds. And it was a fine morning.

So anyway, you can go online to the Jeopardy website and cast your vote. I don't feel strongly one way or the other, but I am going to let my opinion be known.

Because if we've learned anything over the last year and a half, it's that very bad things can happen when you don't vote. This I can tell you.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Blade runner

It's not easy being devastatingly handsome. Oh, I know, I make it look easy - and thanks for noticing. But really, it isn't.

The sly smile, the deep, inviting brown eyes you can get lost in. The imperfect nose, that used to be perfect until Eddie Petroff broke it in junior high (whole other post). The distinguished, full and luxurious silver mane. The proudly displayed crow's feet around those knowing brown eyes that say, "Yes, I've lived a life, I know things you don't and I'm ready for more."

When you take all that into consideration, the question really becomes why would I ever want to hide a face like that? The answer would be so I don't have to shave it.

A long time ago, in a life far, far away, I sported a full beard. It was a popular look at the time, and while I thought it made me look serious and intense like Al Pacino in Serpico, or compassionate and magnetic like Jesus, the truth is it was probably closer to Hagrid or Carlos the Jackal.

Still, it served the purpose. I didn't have to drag a razor across my sensitive skin every morning, or afternoon or whenever the hell I woke up. I'm freelance. Sometimes it's all a blur.

Over the years I tried various versions of the beard: A goatee. A mustache. A soul patch. The full Amish. But the problem with all of them was that I had to do some degree of shaving. And not just shaving, precision shaving to keep the lines straight.

I finally settled on a goatee for a number of years.

Fast forward to one of our annual trips to the Hotel Del Coronado. I was out by the pool, and between the Bloody Mary's and banana smoothies (I never was much of a swimmer), I had an epiphany.

An epiphany is three parts tequila and one part pineapple juice.

Then, I had a realization. I couldn't deny the world this face any longer. That, and I didn't want the weird sunburn lines I was getting. So with my rusty seventy-nine cent plastic Bic blade, scalding water and a lot of effort, I was off to the races.

When I got back from the races, I shaved the goatee.

Even though I didn't like the process, I did like what I saw. So for a few years now I've endured the unpleasantness of shaving every morning. Nothing good comes easy.

Then, Father's Day rolled around. And instead of another ten black t-shirts, gift certificates to AMC Theaters and dinner at Walt's Wharf, my son got me one of the best gifts ever: a membership in the Dollar Shave Club.

The initial kit comes with a tube of Dr. Carver's easy Shave Butter, Dr. Carver's magnanimous Post Shave Daily All-In-One Moisturizer and one of three mighty razors - in my case, The Executive, with six stubble-hating stainless steel blades of fury. I get four cartridges a month, so the blades never have the chance to get, how you say, unusable.

For a guy who was used to speed shaving with a Bic in the shower while racing to get to work, taking a little extra time to do it right took some getting used to. But well worth it.

The feeling is extraordinary. It's a closer shave than I ever thought possible, and once you've experienced the silky smoothness of Shave Butter you'll never go back to foam (or hot water) again. I can see my skin glow, and not just from my years at the nuclear plant. I now look forward to shaving every day.

It also doesn't hurt that the DSC website is one of the funniest, best written sites on the interwebs. Here's just a little sample of what you'll find when you click:

I don't usually endorse products or services on this blog. After all, I want to maintain what little integrity I have left. I try to stay impartial. I feel I owe that to my ten readers.

Nonetheless, I'd strongly recommend you give DSC a try. If not for the best shave of your life, then at least for the comic relief.

By the way, DSC also has a product called One Wipe Charlies. I'm still working my way up, er, down to those.