I Am Onto You

Okay, someone or something has fooled around with my karma, my bio rhythms, my position in the overall cosmos. I have entered either a Twilight Zone episode, a Stephen King story or my soul has been kidnapped by the ghost of HP Lovecraft. I am fully expecting to fall asleep tonight and wake up tomorrow sure I have been eating meat pies consisting of neighbors and friends.

Or should I be wondering if there is not some evil at work through the Internets to facilitate this horror and turn me into the next Chainsaw Massacre story line. The next victim to be gutted and hung by my shoelaces from the tire swing in front of some ancient decaying farmhouse in the woods nearby. Hanging there with ripped throat bleeding out like a butchered hog while slope headed inbreds salivate waiting for me to drain dry. Each one taking a turn with a stick poking me to see if there is any spark left. Meanwhile Mom hangs out the window and between cracked yellow teeth hollers, "Stay away from his eyes, I gits his eyes you little fuckers. Damn kids".

Or even worse, am I being conditioned to become the villain of the upcoming horror movie. I remember promising the stout pie guy that I would cook this fine meal for my wife of 29 years. I haven't cooked in 25 years. And what happened last night makes this of particular interest. But I am getting ahead of myself.

It all started with a recipe for steak and stout pie at what would appear an innocent blog with the word Restaurant in it's title. I should have known nothing is as it seems especially from a blog whose owner admits to being a hardcore fan of HP Lovecraft and also uses some phantasmic name from HP's writng as a prefix to "Restaurant" in his title. Using the word "family" in the title was an excellent subterfuge. Well it fooled me.

A few days later I suddenly decided I wanted to begin shaving again. 28 years of bearded bliss and all of a sudden I want to cut it off? And with a straight razor no less. The warning bells were clanging I am sure. I just could not hear them. A spell had been cast my way and I was helpless and under it's control. With no self will of my own, I have been forced to cruise the Internets for days now looking for the perfect razor to supposedly learn how to shave with it. Dutifully, I lurk in the forums of shaving masters. I wind my way through hundreds of razors for sale on Ebay. I buy razors and make plans to learn how to keep them razor sharp. All this out of the blue? I do not think so. Some kind of Sleepy Hollow madness is afoot. Some evil entity has me by the short hairs of my soul.

Bringing it all around in that full circle of unlikely coincidences, tonight I decide to see what the IFC channel is offering. The BBC drama, "Sweeney Todd" was on at eight o'clock. "Sweeney Todd", the story of a mad barber and his pissed off lady friend. Sweeney cuts their throats in the barber chair with....wait for it......yeah that's right, a fricking straight razor. He butchers them and then gives the choicest cuts,...... again wait for it.....to his meat pie making lady friend to cook up and sell to the public. When asked after being caught why he had done it, his reply, "Because I could".

Immediately I thought of that movie something something ripe green tomatoes and the barbecued wife beating husband. I am sure that was a subtle misdirect though. The evil whatever it is is only trying to keep me from waking up from this dream and realizing the path I am being led down.

Taken individually, these incidents would appear to be but random occurrences that somehow tie in with each other because of my over active imagination. Yeah right. I certainly did not conciously follow this progression to get to this point. I was sure up until tonight that every event in my Life pretty much plays itself out without a plan or devious thinking. But now I am not so sure.

Is there an evil twin lost at birth or one hanging around half formed inside me who goes by the name George Stark? Am I about to become the protaganist in a novel entitled "The Dark Half"? Probably not. It is a good thing I caught wind of the scheming evil bastards who have been trying to set me up. The wormhole into my inner self is closed boys. Find some other flounder to bother with your malevolent plans. For I am once again among the righteous and good. I have re-entered the good guy zone. Small children and ole ladies no longer need to break into a sweat when I come near. I have cast your malicious intent off of my shoulders. Begone you loser black caped, no faced bastards.

Of course if the plans made for me move in the other direction and I am soon to be part of someone else's meat pie, well, I guess being righteous won't help. But it might make me taste better.
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Believe it or not but this post also started out with the best of intentions to continue my march to find the better me. The years and the self induced abuses have put a serious damper on my short term memory. I had heard that it could be improved through liberal mental exercise like actually trying to remember what I did yesterday, last week, or two months ago. I tried it and discovered this evil plot. I am sure they thought an old stoner like me would never connect the dots. Well see. Trying to improve yourself can save your life. I plan on being no one's meat pie. Now if I can only remember where I left that axe.

Adventures in Shaving - Part ll

I haven't even touched a hair on my kisser yet and I am already getting sucked into the dark world of wet shavers. What is it with us guys anyway? Something new catches our fancy and we lose all common sense and logic in our quest to be part of the cool crew, the cool sport, the latest manly fad. We make fun of women and their collection of handbags, shoes, silver spoon collections, yet we dumass men can be just as bad. Only for us it's cool stuff like chisels, sharpening stones, collectible tools we will never use, and yes as I have found out recently, straight razors.

These wet shaving fanatics are as crazed as any hobby group I know. Thousands of words expended on more than a few forums about the proper strop, the best hones, and of course their ever growing collection of straight razors. The are over 60 videos on Youtube that focus on all the various considerations one needs to think about in order to be a hot dog with the straight blade. How to strop a blade. How to hone a blade. How to pick a razor. What brush and soap is best and how to lather up to get the best beard softening bang for the buck. And yes, more than a few enthralling videos of guys shaving using the latest and greatest techniques. The proper and best shave entails two complete passes at least. First with the grain and then for that baby butt finish another pass against it. Edge of your seat stuff.

I understand. I am a crazed bicycle guy. I own more than I think I do. Must have 14 or 15 bikes scattered around the homestead or down to the shop. So yeah, I do understand. When I get into something, I really get into it. Hell, my fascination with bikes turned into a living, sort of. A lifestyle that supports itself most of the time anyway.

After about a week of exploring this unique sub culture of mostly men, I have finally begun to understand the shorthand, the abbreviations, the lingo. It seems that if I am going to make the cut, pee in the tall grass with the big dogs, it is a good idea for me to know how to hang with them as we scratch our respective crotches and talk about everything relating to sharp edges. "Yeah dude, I just got a great deal on a Truefitt & Hill ivory Badger hair brush for $70." And then you just know he postured that superior cool dude way and metaphorically spit on the ground.

For the longest time I had no clue what they meant when they derisively talked about "DE" shaving as a kind of wussy wannabe retro girly way to shave. For several days I just accepted my ignorance until this morning when the light went on. "DE" - Double Edge. Those razors with the two edges that Gillette introduced back in the day to replace straight razors. The straight shavers I think consider them as providing a sub par shave when compared to the shave a straight can give under experienced hands using a properly sharpened razor. Apparently razor burn is a major issue with DE razors. The snobbery of one group versus the other reminds me of the ribbing the Single Speed cyclists and the multispeed cyclists throw back and forth. Straight razors are the single speeds of the shaving world. The hip and cool way.

Shaving with a straight razor is way more than being about the shave. The shave is just one component. Buying and collecting the razors is big, as is owning as many different kinds of hones and being able to out tech talk the next guy with your knowledge of grits and techniques of finding that perfect edge. Some of these guys have 10 -15 strops. Some have razor collections in triple digits. Definitely a hobby that sees some intense over the top involvement.

Doing all this research and lurking in all the forums has fired me up enough so that I actually used advice I found on the Internet and bought my first straight razor. The JA Henckels #84 pictured at the top should be in my hands by the end of next week. The advice across the board from the experienced guys is a newbie such as myself should not get a razor that has not been prepped to what they call "Shave Ready". Apparently brand new razors are not "shave ready" out of the box. Everyone advises that first razor should be a used one that has been honed and shave tested. Learning the art of the proper hone is the most difficult thing to master.

So I went shopping at Ebay. This was my first buying trip there. I have sold on Ebay, but never bought anything. How could I resist this -

"This is a J. A. Henckels #84 straight razor that was made in Solingen, Germany. The blade has some very light stain marks, but still has a nice satin finish full 5/8 wide, spike point blade and provides a beautiful shave. Showing only minimal prior usage, it opens and closes snug and smooth on the pivot pin and well centered between the handles. The silver bolstered yellow celluloid handles are in near perfect defect free condition. The blade and handles of this razor have been cleaned, sterilized and restored throughout, even in the pivot pin area under the handles, which is in absolutely clean, like new condition. Recently honed and shave tested this razor comes shave ready."

A new Henckel would cost over $140 and I would have to pay someone $20 bucks or so to get it shave ready. I paid $86. And it comes ready to rock. Probably could have gotten it for a few bucks cheaper, but I had been beat out just previous by some flounder when he upped the bid $1 in the final seconds on the razor I really wanted. I made sure and with 15 seconds left, I punched in $5 more bucks just to make sure he didn't nickel and dime this one away from me.

Now I have to ask myself why I just spent $86 on a straight razor. A shaver I will have to support with about another $100 worth of shit to make it work for me. I have a brush, but it is a $5 dollar brush I bought 40 years ago. I will probably start with it. But I need shaving soap, some kind of fancy smelling aftershave, and a leather strop. Decent strops start at around $40 to $50. The soap is all over the map. Basic shaving soap, $5. Fancy shaving soap, $40. Aftershave is about the same, all over the place in price. $100 more bucks and I still have not bought any superfine honing stones yet. The set up to have will be $140 or so. The honing stones can wait. I have some already and and do not want to duplicate anything I already have. More research in this department. One thing though - investing this much money and time into the idea of shaving will most likely result in me following through with it.

Now I understand the urge to own these things. They are simple in their function and many are just plain beautiful pieces of work. The variety of razors is astounding. And most of the ones still out there are older or antiques and still being used. I would love to locate my Uncle Herb's razor and have it restored if possible. Shaving with it would re-connect me to him in a way we never connected. As men. Besides, as most of the hard core shavers assure me, you can't own just one.

Old School Rules, Gillette Drools

So 2009 is my year for big changes. Internal, external, diurnal, eternal,and infernal. I am bound and determined to finish the year with as many bad habits as possible tossed in the crapper. And I will hopefully replace them with enough improvements to place me on the first Saint list to come out after I am dead. Or at least put me on some also ran - almost great but he putzed around for too many years, but here's an attaboy for finally getting it together list.

Now, I can promise to stop farting in church or promise to never ever leave the seat up again. But promises like that are promises that even if successfully followed through with, often get lost in the "should of been doing that right along and who cares if it's a big deal to you". Promises that are only noticed when they are being broken. Folks don't notice it when you don't fart, but they sure as Hell perk up when you do. A real ripper on a wooden pew can sure take the spunk out of a good holy sermon.

But how about a makeover, CRUM style? A physical transformation that will make the ladies swoon and all the gnarly dudes want to be my bud? We're talking serious stuff here. Changes that will not go unnoticed.

I have not seen my face more than twice in 28 years. Two times I have shaved my beard and immediately allowed it to grow back. It was not so much I didn't like what I saw, I just hate to use a razor. Shaving to me has always been about the dumbest use of a sharp blade I could think of. And yeah I know, the ladies seem to like that baby smooth face. But well, I was never much on impressing them or if I was I was terrible at it. So the first chance I got, I went comfortable and free. For the last 28 years I have averaged slightly over one haircut and one beard trim a year. A couple of years there I had delusions of presenting a sharper image and had two haircuts in one year. In between I kept the lips exposed with some spiffy little scissors and the flora that sprouts from and around the ears and nose handled with one of those fancy electric trimmers that run forever on one AAA battery. I have had the thing for years now and never swapped out the battery.

I still have a razor. My dad bought it for me when I went to military school forty years ago. Some safety razor that always got clogged and I would cut my hands up trying to clean it out to save those expensive replaceble double edged blades. At that time, giving it to me was a token recognition that I might be a man soon. All I could use it on was my upper lip about once a week. But then the facial hair came in droves and by the time I got to college, I had to shave once a day or suffer from the awful nubby five o'clock shadow that itches like Hell. That's when I decided I hated shaving. It was shortly after I turned 28 I gave it up for good.

When I was a kid, I used to visit my aunt and uncle here in Maine in the summer. Back then I lived wherever my father was posted or decided to live that year. One of my fondest memories was watching my Uncle Herb go through his morning shave ritual. He did not use one of those pansy safety razors. He would pull out an ancient straight razor and while the water heated up out of the faucet, he would begin to strop the razor with authority on this old piece of leather he had hanging from a hook next to the sink. Back and forth. Back and forth. must have done it a hundred times each morning. Then he would pause and place a thumb square on the edge of the razor to test it for sharpness. If satisfied, he would he would drop a piece of soap into a cup, run some water into it and begin to whip up some suds to paint on his face.

Then very carefully he would take that razor and shave off his overnight growth. I was always astounded he never once nicked himself while I was watching. Aunt Helen always said he was showing off for me. She said he regularly would open himself up when no audience was around. But Uncle Herb denied it. Told me the only time he ever nicked himself was when Aunt Helen was yammering on about this or that and breaking his concentration.

So I have had this life long fascination with wet shaving like the old guys did back in the day. Shaving on the edge so to speak. And in my effort to come up with ways to improve the image even if I can't improve the package, I figured I would find my face again and keep it found with a daily shave by the edge of a straight razor. Seemed a simple and straight forward goal, this wet shaving gig. I knew straight razors were still available since I had seen some in the window of some store at some mall sometime in the recent past few years.

Knowing the Internet is the place to find out anything, I googled "straight razor". Damn. Once again, I was overwhelmed with too much information. First of all prices for a razor started at $4 and seemed to top out around $500. There were shaving kits that included everything, strops, sharpening stones, soap, cup, brush, and razors from $49 to over $1000. I found how to videos that would train me in the fine art of cutting fur off my face. There were forums about shaving old school. Stainless blades, carbon blades, titanium clad super secret technology old guys wearing those alpine shorts made blades. And then there are blades probably made by slave children chained to stamping machines who sharpen the blades on the soles of their dirty bare feet. Yeah, straight razors are still available and it appears like anything that plays to our nostalgic tendencies, you can drop stupid amounts of money into it.

But I will not be deterred. I will make this vow, no, this resolution now. By this time next month I will be clean shaven and promise to keep it that way for at least a month. And I will honor the past by using the edge of an unprotected blade. For when the shit hits the fan and the grid goes down for good in 2012, all you losers using a Norelco or a Remington will be suffering bastards and I will get all your women because I will hopefully by that time have it down well enough to not have to keep the band aids and sewing silk handy.

PS - Just wait until I tell you how I want to keep my yard mowed next year.