Shaving parts

Modern man has so much more work to do on their bodies than their parents did.

I am at the same age as my father was when he just up and decided to grow a fu-manchu mustache. It was not pretty, but then, neither were the eyebrows that seemed to be reaching out for the skies and the chest hair, long gray, now everywhere. He did not care, or could not have cared less.

So men of my generation, the men who are very close to becoming women, care about these things and the hair growing out of their ears, nose hair and grooming. The term manscaping is acceptable now. Men shave their balls. Well, I think everyone should do that, women too, but the women I know already shave their balls.

A couple of years ago I was in a hospital for one test or another and they had to shave two strips down my chest. In my life no one had ever removed hair from my chest, but there I was landing strips where my nipples once stood deep within a hair forest. Whatever the test was, I passed. I went home and took a clipped and chopped off all the hair on my chest because with just the landing strips, I looked stupid, even if the look was really only one I could enjoy.

I had not had a clean chest since early childhood, possibly even before. Having no hair was kind of fun, but then it grew back and my fragile ego is such that I could not see wasting the time keeping the look alive.

Which brings me to tonight. I was just sitting downstairs with time on my hands and wondered what it would be like to be completely hairless, or as hairless as a Jew could be. The answer, not bad, not bad at all.