Becoming a Man

I passed a milestone this week. I bought only my second can of shaving cream, ever. I'm a 32 year old man.

That's right, I haven't paid for a can of shaving cream since 1993. I bough my first can of shaving cream the summer after I graduated from high school. I had received a razor in the mail from Gillette. I have always assumed that they purchased my name from the government after I registered with Selective Service. After I got the razor, I went out and bought some shaving cream so that I could actually shave.

You see, unfortunately, my family is missing the hair gene. I have so little hair on my body that I'm surprised I actually have any hair on my head. But the hair on my head is really thick and I've oftened wondered why it couldn't spread out some. This has some unfortunate consequences, such as the kids in middle school who thought I did not have eyebrows because mine were blonde and very thin. (They have since darkened near the bridge of my nose, but still look thin overall.)

I have also always had a baby face. Becuase I have little hair, I don't shave very often. But that still does not explain why I only on my second can of shave cream.

That summer, when I moved to college, they gave everyone in the dorm a "good stuff" box full of supplies like shaving cream, a toothbrush, cologne samples, asprin samples. It was basically a marketing gimmick. Well, they had one of these boxes in every room. There was an excess case of these boxes that was placed in the lobby for anyone to take as they wanted. Being a very cheap person (and out on my own for the first time), I raided that case with several other people. I stocked up on everything: Shaving cream, colognes, pills, whatever else was in that box. Most of that stuff is long since gone. But I had probably 25 or 30 cans of shaving cream. They all fit in an old Timberland shoe box. The cans are sample size, so they were only three or four inches tall and they filled this shoe box.

Everytime I moved (in and out of the dorm, into apartments, different cities), that shoe box always went with me. I could never seem to make any headway on using up all that stuff and thought about throwing it out from time to time because I thought I would never use it all. But again, I can be a very cheap person, so it stayed with me.

The problem was exacerbated by the fact that I have actually owned a couple of electric razors over time. So I rarely did a wet shave...only for dates and important events. Day to day, I would use the electric razor.

Well, sometime last year, there was an unfortunate accident with the razor. It was knocked off the bathroom counter (by someone who shall remain nameless but knows who they are) onto the tile floor and broke. Shortly after, I got a real job and have been shaving three times a week.

Suddenly, I started moving through the last few cans I had fairly quickly. I knew I was close to running out, so I finally bought a new can last week. Sure enough, I emptied the last can this morning.

As corny as this sounds, as I threw that can away, I couldn't help but think about how that stupid little can of shaving cream was a physical connection to my days at Lipscomb and a time in my life when I was relatively carefree. Back then, I did not have a wife, bills to pay, job to worry about. Throwing that can away felt like severing one more cord that tied me to a great time.

Don't get me wrong. I love my life and I am looking forward to things that God has in store for me, but I tend to be (overly) nostalgic.

While that can of shaving cream is simply an object, it somehow represented more this morning. Who knew that God could use a stupid can of shaving cream to remind me to treasure the moments I have now with the ones I love?

I certainly didn't.