On Shaving

I really shouldn't be trusted with sharp objects.

My father gave me a hand-picked shaving set for Christmas when I was, oh, let's say 14. At this point in my life, I had a little bit of peach fuzz on my lip and ended up having to shave once a week, or every two weeks. I ended up not changing my first razor cartridge until after I'd spent an hour in front of the mirror trying to scrape the stubble off of my face. I said to myself "It really shouldn't take this long." Sure enough I popped on a new cartridge and finished the job in about three minutes.

In high school, I got it in my head for the first time to free myself forever from the disposable razor racket by investing in a straight-edged razor. I ended up having a scar on the side of my face for a couple of months after that. Even still, I long to dance with the strop again. It's like a drug.

In college, I found that I could not find good blades to fit the razor my father gave me, so I invested in a Schick Protector, which is a big red monster of a razor that has cartridges with tiny guard wires on them. The advertising on the schick.com website insisted that it was very difficult to cut yourself with the Protector. To an extent, they're right. I still manage to nick myself with it on a regular basis. The fact I'm not gushing blood from deep arterial wounds is a testament to its engineering. I love this thing.

The only problem is that the Protector, like most razors on the market, has more than one blade. There are now three- and four-bladed razors available, but I never saw the purpose of anything more than one. The blades on the Protector are housed very close together, so long hairs will collect under both blades and when that happens, they stop cutting. It's the same reason why you have to empty your lawnmower bag periodically in order to keep cutting grass. No problem. I learned a neat trick for doing this from an annoying guy who lived on the same floor as I did in college. Tap your razor against the edge of the sink as loudly as you possibly can.

I hated that guy, but I took from him a valuable method of de-clogging my razor blades. My shaving method goes a little something like this: Tappa tappa tappa. Rinse. Tappa tappa. Shave shave shave. Tappa tappa tappa. Rinse. Run razor the wrong way against the palm of my hand. Rinse. Shave shave shave. Repeat. It's a complicated process, which is why I only end up doing it about once a week, usually much less frequently than that.

(As an aside, I should briefly touch upon the fact that my preferred method of shaving is even more complex, as it involves using an electric trimmer to cut my stubble down to as short as I can get it, followed by application of Magic shaving powder to my neck, then showering, then shaving my cheeks and chin. This process when performed perfectly results in the best shave I can get, and takes fifteen minutes or more. I shave this way a handful of times a year.)

As it turns out, I was tappa tappa tappa'ing like always last week when the cartridge popped off. A couple of times. I looked at the little grabby arms on the razor and saw that they'd come out of alignment. I was mostly finished with the shave, so I put the Protector down and completed the mission with a frilly pink Gillette that I've had forever and I don't know where it came from.

That night, I took a look at the arms and made an attempt to reposition them. Naturally, I only succeeded in snapping the red hook off the handle and rendering the entire razor useless.

Crap. I just bought two packs of blades for this thing last summer. And they don't make the Protector anymore. I had to go hunting on the Internet to find those blades.

To the store to buy an in-production razor, right? Never! I took it into work that Saturday because I have Krazy Glue in my desk drawer and repaired the damage. It worked! The arms moved correctly and tonight I tried it out for the first time. It worked! Except to the part where I tried the tappa tappa tappa again, and the blade promptly popped off again.

Well damn.

I guess this entire post was an explanation for why I just bought 2 more Schick Protectors from a website I've never heard of before tonight. (Technically, I've been shopping for a new one since I broke mine last week, but you get the idea.)

I really shouldn't be trusted with sharp objects.