| Original Message |
Burgie (no login)
Posted Nov 11, 2008 7:15 AM
As a youngster, I used to watch my Grandfather lather up, stope his old straight razor and slowly attack his face with the sharpest weapon I can remember. While never trying the straight razor, it was only natural for me, as an eleven year old, to adopt the ancient ritual; about once a week to start. Being a bit of a dark haired kid, it wasn't long before it became a daily ritual, even on weekends.
My first razor was a standard Gillette with the old "blue" blades. The blades lasted about a week, about average for the times. Later, Gillette came out with an adjustable razor; providing me the opportunity to make potato chips from my own skin after leaving the setting on "6" after cleaning it the day before - I bled for the better part of a day and a half.
The ritual started with a hot washcloth, as hot as my kid face could stand. This was followed by rinsing the famous badger brush (mine had an ivory handle, given to me by a favorite uncle) under the same hot water and stirring up a nice lather in the "Old Spice" cup. Old Spice was my choice of soaps, even though my uncle and grandpa thought it a little too sweet for them. Following, was the ritual stretching of the skin in every direction imaginalble to get the closest possible shave with the least amount of blood. Then a good rinse with the same hot water, a cool down rinse, towel off, and finally, a quick splash of the famous Old Spice aphrodisiac, guaranteed to attract every Jr. High girl in town.
Other than a hiatus during my shipboard days, the ritual lasted until I got married, when a combination of working 35 miles from home and a wife who hoarded the bathroom sink for 45 minutes a morning, forced me into a lifetime of trying to find a decent electric razor.
Thanks, HR, you gave me 15 minutes of nostalgia by posting this thread. |
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