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My father recently confessed that he is bearded because he is too lazy to shave. One could argue that there are no limits to where he applies that rationale. The evidence is legion and probably not worth sharing without making me seem petty -- perhaps I am past that point already. The facts remain: he sports a beard and I rarely go more than a day without scraping the stubble from my chin, jaw, throat and cheeks. I like how it feels after a good shave. But it is a somewhat tedious routine. Not only is it less intellectually generative than a shower, the penalty for inattentiveness can be measured in blood.

Sue brought home a small bottle of shaving oil the other day from a shopping spree. Now I was aware of shaving oil -- I think I read about it years ago in an Esquire article about shaving. The stuff from Walgreen's worked okay. The new stuff though smells like I'm perched above a bowl of potpourri. And the shave isn't bad either.

Interestingly, I have to pay more attention to the work. Unlike foam or soap, there is no track left behind after the razor has passed through shaving oil. I suppose this suggests that bad shaves I've done to myself in the past may have occurred because I was scraping away the suds rather than concentrating on the stubble. I am reminded that foam, oil or suds are there not to show which areas have been cleared. Instead, the purpose is to help the blade slide across (not into) the skin so that the tiny forest can be cleared away. Now that those hair stumps have turned appreciably lighter, it makes the morning ritual (ablation or ablution) more of a challenge. For the next few weeks, that exertion will be accompanied by the smell of eucalyptus and clove oil. No nicks so far.