In February 2024 this website crashed for no apparent reason. Despite using professionals at GoDaddy.com it was impossible to restore anything after October 2021 (over 100 posts). I do have many of those post in draft form (no final edit or photos) and I have decided to repost them in that manner. I apologize for typos and other errors. How do I feel about losing all of my original work? Life goes on.

Your video got me thinking about my own shaving journey.  I’m almost 70 and when I started shaving (in the 1970s)  I went with a “modern” choice, a Shick injectable.  At some point, I switched to the disposable Gillette “Good News” razors, and then a series of cartridge razors.  I was constantly buying new systems because I could never remember what version I had when I had to buy refills. It was at that point, over 15 years ago, that I made the switch to traditional DE razors, and I haven’t looked back.  I have gone from the hobby to the task, to the hobby, and back again.  However, no matter how I approached shaving I knew that the DE option was the better option.  I’m now back into the hobby and I’m enjoying the fun of trying out new soaps and razor blades.  But, that is not why I’m writing this comment.

Growing up in the 1960s, we lived in a pretty run-down house that was built in the 1920s. I don’t think the bathroom was ever updated.  The sink hung on the wall and was made of heavy cast iron.  The porcelain finish had long ago lost its glaze and cleaning it involved polishing it with powdered cleanser to a dull soap-scum-free finish.  The tap wasn’t mixing, there was a hot faucet and a cold faucet.  If you wanted to wash your hands you ran both taps and quickly moved them from scalding hot to freezing cold water and back again.  A bar of soap sat in a plastic soap dish.  the dish had two pieces to allow the soap to drain, but with 7 people using one bathroom, the soap always seemed soggy on the bottom. If you wanted to do any serious type of wash-up you put a white rubber stopper in the sink and filled the bowl.  Our tub was equally worn, and there was no shower or fancy tiles on the wall.  Let’s not even talk about the spitting toilet. Somehow, we survived.

I don’t have a lot of great memories of my dad, but for whatever reason watching him shave was one of them.  I don’t think he shaved every day, probably a few times a week, and certainly for church on Sunday.  He would usually shave in his boxers and an old-style tank top undershirt. He would fill the sink with mostly hot water and add just enough cold to make it tolerable to wash his face.  I can’t say for sure what razor he used, but I do remember that it was a butterfly type, so it was likely a Gillette Super Speed.  I’m certain that it was the most basic, nothing fancy.  I think he used Wilkinson blades, but I also remember him using off-brands like Walgreens (a pharmacy/chemist brand). Foam came out of a can and the brand would vary based on sales.  I remember Barbasol and Walgreens shaving foam, but I’m sure he used others.  I absolutely loved the smell of the shaving foam.  It smelled so clean and masculine to me.  I was very young when I watched my dad shave and in those days he was an imposing figure who I thought could do anything.  I worried that I could never be as strong or successful as he was.

Shaving for him was a chore and strictly business.  I would be amazed to watch him quickly move the Super Speed around his face.  I don’t remember a “second pass,” but I do seem to recall him squirting an extra dollop of foam and rubbing it in areas that needed a little extra work.  After a rinse, he would always rub his face for a final check.  On special days (like when he was going to the union hall) he would splash on some Mennen aftershave, which I thought was the finest cologne on the planet.  I’m a daily cologne wearer and I honestly think I would wear that scent if it lasted more than 10 minutes on me. 

On occasion, he would change out the blade and toss the old one in a “secret slot” built into the medicine cabinet.  I think the old blades just fell between the joists in the wall   I would imagine all of the blades there and even fantasized that I could somehow retrieve and resell them (you have to remember I was a small child).  I don’t think that he talked to me, but he did allow me to sit on the toilet seat and watch him. The smell of commercial shaving foams and Mennen aftershave flood me with pleasant memories to this very day.

Now, I have a family of my own and I live in a house that is about three times the size of the one I grew up in.  My bathrooms are fancy.  My toilets don’t spit.  I wonder what memories my kids will have of me, but I can assure you that I have made many efforts to be there for them. I can buy whatever soap or razor blades that I want.  I don’t have to think about the cost. Life is good and I am happy. My dad is long gone, but I wonder what would think of his son.  The one who worked hard, went to med school, tried to make the lives of others better… and is now retired and reflecting on his own life.  Somehow, that thought puts a smile on my face.

It is easy for me to remember some less-than-joyful memories of my dad, but your video reminded me of some happy ones.  Thanks so much.

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Modified for Facebook

Growing up in the 1960s, we lived in a house that was built in the 1920s. I don’t think the bathroom was ever updated.  The sink hung on the wall and was made of heavy cast iron.  The porcelain finish had long ago lost its glaze and cleaning it involved polishing it with powdered cleanser to a dull soap-scum-free finish.  The tap wasn’t mixing, there was a hot faucet and a cold faucet.  If you wanted to wash your hands you ran both taps and quickly moved them from scalding hot to freezing cold water and back again.  A bar of soap sat in a plastic soap dish.  the dish had two pieces to allow the soap to drain, but with 7 people using one bathroom, the soap always seemed soggy on the bottom. If you wanted to do any serious type of wash-up you put a white rubber stopper in the sink and filled the bowl.  Our tub was equally worn, and there was no shower or fancy tiles on the wall.  Let’s not even talk about the spitting toilet. Somehow, we survived.

Watching my dad shave is one of my pleasant memories.  I don’t think he shaved every day, probably a few times a week, and certainly for church on Sunday.  He would usually shave in his boxers and an old-style tank top undershirt. He would fill the sink with mostly hot water and add just enough cold to make it tolerable to wash his face.  I can’t say for sure what razor he used, but I do remember that it was a butterfly type, so it was likely a Gillette Super Speed.  I’m certain that it was the most basic, nothing fancy.  I think he used Wilkinson blades, but I also remember him using off-brands like Walgreens. Foam came out of a can and the brand would vary based on sales.  I remember Barbasol and Walgreens shaving foam, but I’m sure he used others.  I absolutely loved the smell of the shaving foam.  It smelled so clean and masculine to me.  I was very young when I watched my dad shave and in those days he was an imposing figure who I thought could do anything.  I worried that I could never be as strong or successful as he was.

Shaving for him was a chore and strictly business.  I would be amazed to watch him quickly move the Super Speed around his face.  I don’t remember a “second pass,” but I do seem to recall him squirting an extra dollop of foam and rubbing it in areas that needed a little extra work.  After a rinse, he would always rub his face for a final check.  On special days (like when he was going to the union hall) he would splash on some Mennen aftershave, which I thought was the finest cologne on the planet.  I’m a daily cologne wearer and I honestly think I would wear that scent if it lasted more than 10 minutes on me. 

On occasion, he would change out the blade and toss the old one in a “secret slot” built into the medicine cabinet.  I think the old blades just fell between the joists in the wall   I would imagine all of the blades there and even fantasized that I could somehow retrieve and resell them (you have to remember I was a small child).  I don’t think that he talked to me, but he did allow me to sit on the toilet seat and watch him. The smell of commercial shaving foams and Mennen aftershave flood me with pleasant memories to this very day.

Now, I have a family of my own and I live in a house that is about three times the size of the one I grew up in.  My bathrooms are fancy.  My toilets don’t spit.  I wonder what memories my kids will have of me, but I can assure you that I have made many efforts to be there for them. I can buy whatever soap or razor blades that I want.  I don’t have to think about the cost. Life is good and I am happy. My dad is long gone, but I wonder what would think of his son.  The one who worked hard, went to med school, tried to make the lives of others better… and is now retired and reflecting on his own life.  Somehow, that thought puts a smile on my face.