napalmmk9 (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} napalmmk9) wrote,@ 2008-03-03 08:36:00 |
|
On Beards
"How long did it take you to grow that thing?"
I hear this about twice a week. It's a fairly bright red 8-inch-long goatee, it draws attention. Children have actually been struck dumb upon noticing it, others will say "wow, lookit" or just point and stare. It ensures that I'm remembered, which is both a blessing and a curse. Everyone remembers meeting the guy with the weird beard. The guy with the weird beard remembers meeting almost nobody.
Anyway, my stock answer, since I've been growing it since September 7th, 2001 (when I was laid off -- seemed like a good time to experiment with facial hair), is "about 6 years."
Recently, that was called into question. In 6 years, the beard really ought to be down to my waist, all things being equal. But, it splits, and requires maintenance to keep from looking too ratty. So I get it cut from time to time. It doesn't seem to want to grow much longer than that, and I'm, for the most part, fine with that, although if it got to be another 4 inches or so, braiding it wouldn't look quite so silly.
So my answer has to be, "I've been working on it for six years, but I cut it from time to time," to be honest with my random interrogator. This, however, is about 13 more words than I'd like to spend chatting with a stranger who's come up to me and asked me about my personal grooming habits and makes implications about the levels of testosterone in my veins. Perhaps my answer should just be a nonsequitur like, "satan satan satan!" Generally speaking, I'm a little more polite than that. It leads to fewer beatings. I'll figure something out, I'm sure.
However, I got a new one yesterday, via the myspace. "Are you amish?" this random person who was apparently in my "extended network" (meaning: the entire fucking planet) asked.
Yes. Yes I am. They're doing REMARKABLE things with the compressed-air version of the cathode-ray tube. I've got my brother Zebidiah writing letters by lantern-light and taking the buggy into town to deliver them to someone who posts them on the internet for me.
I feel dirty for doing this, but I also wanted to talk about razors. I'd been using the same Gilette Sensor razor since I started having to shave. I do shave everything except my chin, daily. It'd been getting kind of beat up, so while looking through the circular, I noticed that my grocer had the Gilette Fusion on sale: this is the razor that made the Onion come true. Additionally, when I got to the store, I noticed that the replacement heads for the 5 bladed (SIX if you count the "precision blade" on the back) one were cheaper than the ones for my old two-bladed sensor.
I bought it. They've spent quite literally billions of dollars on razor technology. I got the non-battery-powered version, because I still don't believe a razor needs a vibrator. Well -- at least, not a facial razor.
The fucking thing is amazing. It constantly stays in line with the contours of your face, that little bastard spot on my throat just below the base of my jaw is completely stubble free for the first time in years, and you barely even feel it.
I'd scoffed: billions of dollars for a fucking razor? They certainly spent way too much, but the money was not entirely wasted. They have come out with a quality product.
Fuck me running, I've become a shill.
"How long did it take you to grow that thing?"
I hear this about twice a week. It's a fairly bright red 8-inch-long goatee, it draws attention. Children have actually been struck dumb upon noticing it, others will say "wow, lookit" or just point and stare. It ensures that I'm remembered, which is both a blessing and a curse. Everyone remembers meeting the guy with the weird beard. The guy with the weird beard remembers meeting almost nobody.
Anyway, my stock answer, since I've been growing it since September 7th, 2001 (when I was laid off -- seemed like a good time to experiment with facial hair), is "about 6 years."
Recently, that was called into question. In 6 years, the beard really ought to be down to my waist, all things being equal. But, it splits, and requires maintenance to keep from looking too ratty. So I get it cut from time to time. It doesn't seem to want to grow much longer than that, and I'm, for the most part, fine with that, although if it got to be another 4 inches or so, braiding it wouldn't look quite so silly.
So my answer has to be, "I've been working on it for six years, but I cut it from time to time," to be honest with my random interrogator. This, however, is about 13 more words than I'd like to spend chatting with a stranger who's come up to me and asked me about my personal grooming habits and makes implications about the levels of testosterone in my veins. Perhaps my answer should just be a nonsequitur like, "satan satan satan!" Generally speaking, I'm a little more polite than that. It leads to fewer beatings. I'll figure something out, I'm sure.
However, I got a new one yesterday, via the myspace. "Are you amish?" this random person who was apparently in my "extended network" (meaning: the entire fucking planet) asked.
Yes. Yes I am. They're doing REMARKABLE things with the compressed-air version of the cathode-ray tube. I've got my brother Zebidiah writing letters by lantern-light and taking the buggy into town to deliver them to someone who posts them on the internet for me.
I feel dirty for doing this, but I also wanted to talk about razors. I'd been using the same Gilette Sensor razor since I started having to shave. I do shave everything except my chin, daily. It'd been getting kind of beat up, so while looking through the circular, I noticed that my grocer had the Gilette Fusion on sale: this is the razor that made the Onion come true. Additionally, when I got to the store, I noticed that the replacement heads for the 5 bladed (SIX if you count the "precision blade" on the back) one were cheaper than the ones for my old two-bladed sensor.
I bought it. They've spent quite literally billions of dollars on razor technology. I got the non-battery-powered version, because I still don't believe a razor needs a vibrator. Well -- at least, not a facial razor.
The fucking thing is amazing. It constantly stays in line with the contours of your face, that little bastard spot on my throat just below the base of my jaw is completely stubble free for the first time in years, and you barely even feel it.
I'd scoffed: billions of dollars for a fucking razor? They certainly spent way too much, but the money was not entirely wasted. They have come out with a quality product.
Fuck me running, I've become a shill.
