The week between Christmas and New Years is a dead zone on the calendar. My office, normally a reasonable (if unpleasant) subway ride away suddenly seemed like it was atop the Cliffs of Insanity. As a result I opted to spend the week "working from home," knowing that "work" would indeed be involved but hoping that it would be light enough that "home" would be the dominant force. Who knows when I'd next be able to spend 10 days with the family, negotiating the location of letters in Cheeky's alphabet puzzle and keeping an eye on my e-mails from the comfort of my unwashed sweatpants?
To celebrate, I let myself go a little more than usual, manifested most clearly in the shag carpet growing on my face. I hadn't let my inner Rasputin out since I sported a goatee during the early dot com days. My friend Sparky mercilessly called me "Vagina Face" that year, and I eventually discarded the look in favor of the roguish, clean-shaven look I've had ever since.
With a face as pretty as mine, why cover it?
Still, dragging a razor blade across my skin seemed like a lot of work last week, so I let my 5 o'clock shadow turn from Don Johnson into Clint Eastwood, and eventually into something a little wilder. Letterman and Conan, no doubt inspired by me, did the same, and we were all faced (no pun intended) with returning to work this week, our Viking-like manhood on full display.
But there was the itching. JESUS did that thing itch.
My stubby fingernails were no match for the constant irritation in Stubbleville. For something evolution saw fit to leave intact, facial hair has an uncanny ability to drive this mammal crazy! I don't care how warm my face pelt would keep me in the cold winter weeks...if I needed to rub a fork or steel wool on my chin for comfort it wasn't worth it.
So yesterday morning I soaped up, pulled out the big guns, and prepared to mark the rings in my hairs, from puberty to recent forest fires. My cheeks practically cheered with joy as the rush of fresh air hit them, and as my mischievous smile and powerful jaw emerged from the roughage I realized that for every Magnum or Che that can make a face rug sexy, there's a Morrison or Chef who remind you that it's not for everyone.
From now on I'm keeping my hair on my back, where it belongs.
At our home we call the goatee the Jailhouse Pussy, or Mangina (Dentata). 5 blades. Genius.
I have to admit, in reading your post, it became necessary to take a walk in the brisk winter air: unwashed sweatpants, back hair! Your lucky wife!
Posted by: p-man | January 03, 2008 at 02:06 PM
Just shaved my face also for the first time in two weeks. Aside from the fact that my face looked like a chihuaha's ass, the shocking thing was that I had so many white hairs in by beard. What the fuck!
Posted by: MetroDad | January 03, 2008 at 02:56 PM
Happy New Year, buddy. We need to get more Swedish meatballs and lingonberries soon!
Posted by: James | January 03, 2008 at 03:21 PM
I hate shaving- especially my back.
Posted by: Whit | January 03, 2008 at 04:36 PM
Dude, if you recall, your days of vagina envy were not your best. Luckily you've made great strides in scoring Oodgie...a long way from the days of Dig Dug. BTW, I literally break out into hives of Todd doesn't shave for even a day.
Posted by: Sparky | January 04, 2008 at 12:55 PM
It must be something in the air, as I've got two weeks' growth on my face, too. I plan to keep up with it until I can have my morning coffee merely by putting the grounds in my mustache and drinking a cup of hot water.
Posted by: LOD | January 04, 2008 at 09:34 PM
It must be be a guy thing this time of year. I too just shaved after being on vacation for two weeks. It felt damn good to get it done. The itching was driving me crazy. Happy New Year!
Posted by: SoCal Dad | January 05, 2008 at 11:42 AM
Facial hair is a big no-no in this house. On both of us.
You with a goatee? I can't even imagine what that would look like. If I give Sparky my email address, do you think she'd hook me up?
Posted by: Kara | January 08, 2008 at 02:06 PM