Wednesday, July 18, 2012
I shaved today. I mean, completely shaved.
For the first time since 2005 I don’t have any facial hair.
Of course there’s one in every crowd and I was asked if that included eyebrows too, and while I have shaved off my eyebrows once before – and we’ll get to that in a minute – this involves facial hair such as a beard or goatee.
That’s seven years of covering up either part, or all, of this ugly mug.
I shaved today because I made a promise. I said if it didn’t cool off soon, or if it got too hot – and anything in triple digits is too hot in my book – my clothes were coming off. But I have this aversion to public incarceration, and much to the chagrin of several friends, I will not be running naked down the middle of Main Street.
So I shed the organic clothing instead.
The public can only take so much of me uncovered so I’m doing this in small doses. Like my chin and upper lip first, for example, and if I don’t send you running and screaming like Godzilla showed up for lunch, then we’ll work on beach attire next. Beach attire means shorts and no shirt.
So, why did I shave? It wasn’t entirely by choice.
My entire life is defined by necessity, my having to do something because of the consequences of my previous actions, like when I shaved off my eyebrows. I had a beard trimmer and was using it inappropriately, trying to stretch the time between haircuts by trimming my bangs. My hair in front had gotten a little long and now dipped to the tip of my nose. I was in the bathroom looking in the mirror and trying to decide at what length to trim these bangs.
I decided that the Neanderthalic ridge that is my brow would make an excellent guide and a nice stopping point. So I set about bouncing the beard trimmer sans hair guard across my extreme lower forehead.
I was halfway done trimming my bangs when I checked my progress in the mirror and was surprised to see a somewhat startled expression looking back at me.
I looked like Spock.
“Captain this endeavor is not logical.”
“I know Spock, but what does your human half tell you?”
“My human side tells me you just shaved off your eyebrow.”
And while I wore a perpetual look of surprise, there is nothing more difficult than purposely shaving off your second eyebrow after accidentally shaving off your first eyebrow. It’s like coming when your daddy says, “C’mere,” and he just cut himself off a good sized whipping switch.
You’d think I’d have learned something from the experience.
Sadly, I had not.
This time, while trimming my beard this morning with the proper hair guard attached – I’m going for the closely trimmed look – I suddenly had to sneeze.
An important rule to consider: When sneezing, it is critical to pull the beard trimmer away from your face. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT try to finish trimming that extra little bit before acknowledging the inevitable arrival of the sneeze. You will shave off half your mustache if you do.
You should see what happens when I run with scissors.
So I’ll go with the clean look for a while. There’s less chance of accidents happening that way.
Shaving a face that’s part of my basketball sized head, that’s like mowing the front yard.
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