Face-off: the do-it-yourself director’s cut

Those who are close to me know that I am typically comfortable in my own skin. I’m not really the guy who acts or dresses a certain way to “fit in.” In fact, no one would ever accuse me of being compliant with contemporary fashions or the latest trends. I’m a husband and a father of two toddlers, so I drive a minivan and wear cargo shorts.

Why cargo shorts you ask? Well, how else am I going to carry baby wipes, sippy cups, a stuffed dog, a sheet of Paw Patrol stickers and the entirety of Peppa Pig’s family action figures all at the same time? So, yes …cargo shorts. I’m not ashamed. I have been known to wear New Balance dad shoes as well, but my wife draws the line at Crocs.

I know I am not alone. There is an overabundance of what I call “nerd dads,” so I have never taken stock in what many refer to as the “midlife crisis.” If you were to believe what society has always taught us, every guy goes through a midlife crisis after he turns 40 and buys a Corvette or something extravagant.

I have never felt the need to overindulge in family debt in order to express my manhood.

That being said, I do sometimes feel that primal urge to grunt and beat my chest. For me, it came in the form of the straight razor shave. Not one given by an experienced, licensed barber mind you. Oh no. I had to fill this need on my own. I was going to straight razor shave my face and it was going to be glorious.

I became obsessed with the concept. I spent hours, days even, researching the equipment I would need. I went straight to Amazon and bought it all. I purchased a straight razor, a strop, a two-sided, high-grit whetstone for sharpening, shave soap and even a badger hair shaving brush. I had never heard of most of this stuff before, nor did I have the faintest clue how to use any of it. How hard could it possibly be? I scoured the internet looking for directions, tips, and pointers. I basically wore a hole in YouTube from the number of videos I watched on the topic. I considered myself an absolute expert by the time my new toys arrived.

I screwed the strop into my wall. I ran my razor up and down on it like it was going out of style. I lathered up my badger hairbrush. I painted my face in white foam. Finally, it was time to shave. I held the razor at the exact angle the videos taught me. I couldn’t have been more of a man at this moment. Here we go. I swiped across. Ouch! I ran the razor down. Argh! Rivers of red started flowing down my face. With every stroke I made myself look more and more like a horror movie.

Ok, so the first shave didn’t go so well. I can try it again in a couple days. And I did. Same result. By the time the week was out, I was surprised to find I still had a face. My manly moment of testosterone-hood had ended in disaster.

I swallowed hard and realized my self-barber dream was over. I disappeared from the public for a few days to hide my battle scars and lick my wounds. I was disappointed in my failure, but grateful for my lesson in humility.

The moral of the story is … don’t indulge in sudden obsessions if you want to save face.

As it turns out, straight-razor shaving isn’t all it’s cut out to be. (Photos provided)