There seems to be a conspiracy aimed at me. It is in the form of what can only be called nagging and it relates to my not shaving as often as those who comment think I should. My answer is a resounding “TOUGH”. When I was in the Army I had to shave every day sometimes twice a day and of course when I was married it was the same situation. Well now that I am retired (Old Fart) single, unattached, and not on the hunt I will shave whenever I feel like it or if I have to go somewhere on an appointment or special gathering. Tis my face and I will scrape it when the itch gets unbearable. Also remember every time I shave I destroy the home of millions of mites and other microscopic creatures that take up residence in my whiskers. Sometimes I feel like a mass murderer.
The disposable razor, Weapon of Mass Destruction, which can be bought at any pharmacy or corner store. It is such an innocent looking weapon made in both the male and female variety’s with very little to distinguish between them with perhaps the colour. When first introduced the Mk1 had but one blade which was quickly followed by the MkII, III, and IV each successive mark adding blades and improving on its’ capability to mow the whiskers from ones face. Now what took 5 or6 stokes to accomplish takes only 2 or 3. Along with this new efficiency come greater killing power to eradicate whole populations of mites and whatever other creatures abide within the bearded face.
Picture if you will a normal day in Mite Ville population 20 billion or so, lovely place with lots of trees (Whiskers) and a plentiful food supply of dead skin cells. Now in this serene setting are millions of families with Daddy, Mommy, Billy, & Susie living their day to day lives without a care or a worry? With the exception of the odd quaking and rustle of the trees life is good. Then one day a white foamy mixture falls upon the landscape and the kids think this is great something new to play in. The poor little things don’t realize that this white foam is the prelude to disaster the forewarning of a disaster of such magnitude it boggles the mind to even contemplate it. You see behind that white innocent looking foam is the Weapon of Mass Destruction the likes of which they could not think of, not even in their wildest dreams. The Razor. This one is blue and has two cutting blades so sharp that the slightest pressure is all that is needed for them to rain devastation upon Mite Ville. As the ground (skin) quakes and the trees fall by the hundreds all a mite family can do is hold on and hope that the monster will pass. Alas it is not meant to be, the mites by their billions are uprooted and then washed away in a series of Tsunamis’ the likes of which they have never seen. Some by in ‘the red tide that can follow as the wielder of the razor nicks his flesh and the blood begins to pour. After the Weapon of Mass Destruction has done its’ work the last of the Tsunamis hits followed a rough scouring of the landscape then a blistering evapouration of any residue including the bodies of the dead and dying. What was once the peaceful borough of Mite Ville now is a barren wasteland. Wait though as hope does spring eternal for within a few hours of this holocaust life begins to reassert itself upon the landscape and new trees start to rise and with them the birth of a new generation of mites. Alas the cycle repeats itself every few days and for some everyday.
So dear friends ends my tale of destruction. This tale and its’ consequences is the reason I do not shave every day because carrying the burden of such total annihilation weighs heavy upon my spirit and I endeavour to prolong the life of our little microscopic friends for as long as possible.