I'm looking for a good safety razor. You know, the kind used by our fathers and grandfathers. The kind that was carried in backpacks by soldiers and Marines as they stormed Normandy and Iwo Jima.
There'd be no plastic on this baby. Only a hunk of forged steel and a single edge presented to your beard without all the gummy lubes and multiplex of blades being hawked by hucksters.
But then there's straight razors.
Holy crap. Now we're talking about an open blade passing within a fraction of an inch of your jugular. There's a precariousness about this morning ritual that would be very bracing. Afterwards, there should be nothing that would faze me the rest of the day. For any scenario that decided to foolishly present itself as a crisis, I'd square off against it and say, "Dude, I shaved with a straight razor this morning. Bring it." The exchange would then be concluded by me spitting between its eyes.
I can't think of a lot of tracks that could suitably match the bravado this episode, but this one will do.
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