Considering I’m long overdue for a haircut (not to mention a shave), I think I’m going to make my way over to my favorite downtown barber shop this afternoon for a little trim. Actually, I originally thought of this last night as I was preparing for bed, staring sadly at my somewhat shabby reflection in the bathroom mirror.
What can I say, losing one’s hair simply isn’t any fun. Therefore, I’ve been practicing my not-inconsiderable mental powers in an effort to force that ever-increasing bald spot into disappearing. Needless to say … it’s not working.
And then – just this morning – I had an absolutely fantastic idea. Rather than shave (a task I find to be extremely tedious), I’d simply “let myself go” for the day, if you know what I mean. My reasoning? Today would be a perfect opportunity to volunteer myself (and my face – which may not be all that pretty, but hey, it’s all I’ve got) for my first-ever straight-razor shave.
And yes, I’m scared to death.
I’ve never, in my 30-plus years, let anyone (and I mean NO ONE) near my face with any kind of razor, knife, surgical laser or other type of potentially life-threatening device. It’s not that I don’t trust people, particularly an actual professional, it’s just that, well, I don’t trust myself. I guess I’m simply afraid I’ll spontaneously go into convulsions or something and, in all honesty, I’d rather not have my face (or any portion of it) accidentally sliced off. I suppose I’m being a little paranoid about the whole experience, but really, can you blame me?
It is (a straight-shave), however, something I’ve always wanted to try. In fact, the reason behind my patronage of the local barber shop is the throw-back nature of each visit. It’s the camaraderie, you see. Chatting with an honest-to-God barber (who’s not afraid to tell me I’ve been waiting too long between visits), talking sports, the weather and local gossip, is just too much fun. It’s good for the soul, really, and something I truly enjoy, being the Renaissance man that I am (I’ll be portraying the King of France in the Norwich Theater Company’s upcoming production of Annie Get Your Guns this fall … or maybe it’s the King of Italy).
Regardless, as soon as I can get myself away from the desk for the weekend, I think a visit to the barber is absolutely necessary, especially considering that a group of my best friends recently compared my current “hair-style” to one of Jim Henson’s Muppets.
Personally, I took that as a compliment. They just laughed.