For this exercise, he loaded a fresh blade into his razor, handed it to me, and continued his instruction. "You don't need to use a lot of pressure. Let the razor do the work. Keeping a sharp blade loaded will help you maintain a light touch." I took my first tentative passes. "Always start your shave with the grain, never against. That'll help avoid ingrown hairs." I paused, nodded my understanding and continued.
Slowly and surely, Dad's razor erased the scented foam from my face. All that was left was a remnant over my upper lip. I looked at my reflection, brought up my hand, paused, and slowly put the razor down. "What's the matter, son? Aren't you gonna take care of that last bit of fuzz?"
In my mind's eye, I erringly thought that "fuzz" was in the same class as Thomas Magnum's. "I dunno, Dad. I kinda like it. I think I'll keep it for a while." I rinsed off my face and handed Dad's razor back to him, all the while smiling with an honest, goofy teen-age grin. "Thanks, Dad! Appreciate the lesson!" I walked out of the bathroom pleased as punch at having completed this rite of passage. I passed Mom in the hallway. She looked at me and shot Dad a glance.
"Why on earth did you let him keep that thing on his upper lip!?"
Dad just smiled. "Pfft. Don't worry. It's just a phase. It won't last long."
For the next several decades, I used disposable razors. One day I came to a decision. I'd gotten a really crappy set of disposables that were cleaving off more skin than hair, and I knew there had to be a better way. It was an epiphany moment - I decided to go old school and invested in a boar's hair shaving brush, a block of shaving soap, and a safety razor.
One thing became readily apparent. Utilizing all this new kit drastically reduced the tempo of my morning ablutions, and I realized I was OK with this. For most of my shaving life, this procedure was just an absent-minded process, like brushing my teeth. Now, periodically changing out my blade was more exacting and required more dexterity than tossing away a disposable and reaching for another. The procedure of loading my shaving brush, developing a lather, and painting my face really couldn't be rushed. It forced me to slow down and consider each action. Without realizing it, a morning chore was transformed into a ritual. The slowed pace allowed for many contemplative moments when it was just me, my razor, and the dude staring back from the mirror.
After a while, I got ballsy enough to pick up a straight razor. This was an entirely different animal. As I held that open blade against my lathered throat, I kept switching hands and positions to get a less lethal attack angle on my stubble. I suddenly realized why beards were popular back in the day. After what seemed a tense eternity, I finished the job. Andrea looked in on me. "Well?"I chuckled. "I managed to not draw blood. I'll call it a win."
This was, of course, a discussion meant to be had with two of the most famous beards in rockdom.
"You know, Lil' Bro, you can avoid all that nonsense if you just had a beard. Haven't you ever tried growing one?"
"Yeah. Just after Andrea and I got married. It was nowhere near as epic as yours, Dusty. And Andrea was not impressed."
Billy sat across from me, eyeing me over his shades. "But you've always sported the 'stache?"
"Yep. I shaved it once for senior portraits at Mom's request." The trio started snickering. "Ah, shut up! I grew it right back! A girl in one of my classes said I was cuter with the mustache. So, heck. That's all it took. I've had it ever since"
"Hold up." Beardless Frank chimed in. "Andrea's never seen you without that caterpillar?"
"She's seen pictures, but yeah. She's never known me without a mustache. I asked her what she'd think if I shaved it off. She crinkled her nose and said I'd look too much like a kid."
"So...basically another girl just told you that you're cuter with it so it stays."
"Yep."
"That's all it took?"
"Yep."
"Hah. Sounds about right."
As much as these yahoos would have you think they were born with wizard class facial hair, it wasn't always the case. Billy revealed in an interview that their trademark beards didn't even start to reach their final form until their 6th album - 10 years after they first got together. Deguello was the album that kicked off the "great bearded ones" era and the track, "I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide", set the tone.
Gillette once offered Billy and Dusty a million dollars each to shave their beards. It was a hard "no" from both of them. Billy said, "The prospect of seeing oneself in the mirror clean-shaven is too close to a Vincent Price film…a prospect not to be contemplated, no matter the compensation."
Gillette should have had a blue-eyed, freckle-faced redhead tell them they were cuter without the beards. Apparently, that's all it takes.
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