Thursday, May 21, 2009
One summer night back in 1995, I came back with Brad, Ben and Paul back to Paul's parent's house. There had been some discussion that night about shaving heads. Brad got me to agree to buzzing my head if he did likewise. It wasn't really a fair deal, mind you, as Brad had buzzed his hair before that. Nonetheless, I am nothing if not a man of my word, and so began my 14 year streak of keeping hair off my head (with some outside assistance).
Paul was the barber that night (there's really no finesse involved in shearing a scalp), but I soon realized that I would have to get my own set of clippers. Since that night, I have gone from using a #2 clipper attachment to no attachment to using a Gillette Mach 3 razor blade in the shower without the benefit of a mirror -- which is how it was that I came to my PhD defense with a Nike swoosh of stubble just above my right ear before E alerted me to it. I still own clippers, but I now mostly use them for grooming my facial hair. I once tried to use my old pair of clippers on Heather's cat, Ron, who left swaths of long, soft hair all over the place. It used to look like we were hoarding cotton balls.
Shearing Ron's hair is best left to the professionals
This evening, I looked up at myself in the mirror and realized that my facial hair was getting a little unkempt. Some guys grow a playoff beard around this time of year. I don't really follow hockey (or any sports, really -- I suck at the orange Trivial Pursuit questions), so it would be a complete charade for me to try and grow one. It did occur to me that I could grow a 'selling the house' beard, but it's already at the point where it feels like I have masking tape on my face. I think that the irritation would go away if I let it go just a little longer, but the only thing keeping me from shaving right now is finishing this blog entry.
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