The Beard Trimmer…
We live in a world where nothing seems to last. Into this transitory landscape, I want to tell you the tale of my beard trimmer, a most amazing outlier.
Do you remember buying things with the expectation that they might last? A piece of clothing that didn’t disintegrate after the second wash? Stitching that actually stayed together. I just bought a seemingly nice pea coat during the Holidays Season at Target Boutique. I looked good in it, if only for two months. The zipper is already broken and the front pocket is hanging by a few threads.
How about a piece of technology that is not outdated within the first week of purchase? My latest IT debacle involves my son’s new IPhone. This winter, in a hotel room at a hockey tournament, a most unfortunate thing happened. Paul was texting in the bathroom with a girl. His buddy came at him with a smelly, wet towel and the intent to stick it in Paul’s face. Phone in hand, Paul went to block with his right arm, contact transpired with assailant’s approaching arm, phone flew in the air, bounced off the wall, and directly into the unflushed toilet. (How do you make up a story like that?) I buy a new phone. All is well, except upon getting home, none of our accessory cords work, not our speaker, none of our chargers, nothing. Apple has changed all of the new phone’s jacks. Of course, I am in for another trip to the store and over $75. Did you know that Best Buy makes almost no money on selling electronic products? The lion’s share of their profit derives from the accessories. It’s a conspiracy.
We all have countless stories of such boondoggles.
Into this cynical world, I introduce my rechargeable beard trimmer. A Remington Titanium MB 45 for under $30. This Smokie has been working tirelessly for more than fourteen years, this in the time when the hopeful half-life for electronic purchases is six months. This amazing beard trimmer is clearly a guy, although I have never gone so far as to name him. Straight-forward, no bells, no whistles, no fancy attachments, the Dude just does his job. He has seen me through the birth of my sons, the founding of my non-profit Mind Body Solutions, the publishing of my book, and through my beard’s salt & pepper beginnings to its nearly all grey. He has watched at least 3 different styles of razors come and go, dozens of toothbrushes, and countless tubes of toothpaste. He has remained steadfast through it all.
This stalwart of hard work is coming to his end. He is not holding a charge nearly as long; his blades are dulling, often pulling the hair on my face enough to make my eyes water. He is not dead yet, but it is simply a matter of time, and I have to admit, patience. If you have never had the hair on your face yanked, then you are lucky. I am not sure how many more times I can handle having my face nearly ripped off. Let’s hope he conks out before I pull his plug.
But I want to honor this beacon of beard-trimming hope in our throwaway world. I want to remember that some things do stay true and steady, while everything else seems to waver: the love of a loyal dog, the burn of a shot of cheap whiskey, and the buzz of this most excellent grooming device.
There are stories of hope everywhere, perhaps in pockets or tucked in corners or on the shelves in the bathroom. But make no mistake, they are waiting to be found.