I don't do real well with facial hair. I was a wee bit late to puberty (okay, maybe more than a wee bit) and when I started college I was still only shaving maybe twice a week. Really, I was always okay with that and wouldn't mind those days again. I suspect that as I age I will return to those days.

Anyway, my parents got me an electric razor, I think as a high school graduation gift. My dad always used an electric razor and even though male purists think electric razors are pure heresy, I used one anyway.

Of course, have I ever told the story of my freshman year college roommate using my razor (when I wasn't there) to shave his legs? That was disgusting. Why did he shave his legs, you ask? That is a very good question. Something about his basketball socks. I didn't want to know any more than that.

Anyway, I have always liked the idea of trying a full beard. Sometimes, when I have time away from work, I just quit shaving for a few days thinking maybe it will grow into some devastatingly handsome and debonair beard, transforming my whole appearance into sort of a three-day beard leading man look. But instead of looking like George Clooney, I look like Michael Moore or the proverbial guy on television shows who is picking food out of dumpsters behind restaurants (no offense intended to the proverbial guy on television shows who is picking food out of dumpsters behind restaurants ... perhaps a little bit of offense intended to Michael Moore).

This morning, after not shaving for a few days, I decided I needed to shave. However, I have grown accustomed to not taking the time to shave over the past few days. In fact I was talking to a couple of guys at work yesterday as well as our one bearded lady (no offense intended to bearded ladies) and several of us commented it would be nice to never have to take the time to shave. I upped the ante by confessing that I often hate to take the time to shower, too. I received great encouragement to continue that practice.

Anyway, I had to shave this morning and even though I knew I needed to use shaving cream and a safety razor, I first tried digging out my 25 year old bottle of 'Lectric Shave, which seems to have gone rancid over the years and spreading it over my face. Then I tried the electric razor. I ended up looking even more like Michael Moore or the proverbial guy on television shows who is picking food out of dumpsters behind restaurants.

So, then I had to get out my equally ancient can of shaving cream followed by a free razor I received in the mail at some point, and scrape away at my face.

I always hate shaping my goatee. I wish I had some sort of mask I could use to help me shape it. It always ends up uneven, off-center, and askew. (What? Askew! Bless You!) So I keep trimming it smaller and smaller, trying to even it up. Someday, I fear I will narrow it down to just a soul patch except I don't have any whiskers where a soul patch should be.

Oh well. The plight of being male.

Someday I will write about leg hair.