This very morning I was in the shower shaving my legs. Now, before anyone jumps my ship about shaving, in any way shape or form, I will just say this. I like the way my legs feel when they are shaved. Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall.  I do it for me, and no one else. Sort of like brushing my teeth, or cleaning my ears. I like those things too. It is all part of the grooming package with me. Little OCPD Me.

Which brings me to the next thing. I tell you guys way too much information about myself. That is probably the reason why some people snigger when they pass me in the grocery store, or point at me, in other public places. “Look Jim. There she is. She is the one that like BOTH mustard and ketchup on Corn Dogs. AND…. She thinks the earth is 4.5 billion years old, too.”


The legs. Shower. Shave.

As I was shaving, I wondered how the ritual first got started. And then I wondered one step further. What about the first time humans cut hair from their bodies?

I bet it goes way back to Prehistoric Man. We all have the stereotypical images of cavemen with a pelt of some sort, fashioned around them. But there they stand, all hunched over, in their surliness. Their hair is unkempt, and long, and fuzzy. Their apey-faces, arms, back, and legs are all frizzy and matted too. Club in hand.

So at some point, I suspect, around the time they figured out fire, and spears, and dinosaur sandwiches with Mayonnaise and pickles, was about the same time of the first haircut. Plus or minus 2.5 million years ago.

I think it went like this. Every so often, they would have a big community type of dinosaur hunt. They had to work together to bring down the beast and then they would divvy up the meat.

So, this hunt was on a Tuesday of all things, and Glog was on a rock getting ready for the strike, when out of the clear blue, a Pterodactyl flies along, knocking him off the rock, and into the path of the Argentinosaurus. Thankfully, he rolls under a rock shelf and is narrowly spared. He did NOT see that Pterodactyl coming. His hair was in his eyes.

That night, at the cave, he is skinning the Dino-meat with the edge of his spear. Same hair is in his same eyes. A little lightbulb goes off above his head (He is probably one of the ancestors of Thomas Edison, as such). He makes the connection that he can cut the hair with his spear-edge, and he DOES.

He cuts a bunch of his hair, and his fuzz, with his spear. Really gives it a go, and jumps into the pond to rinse off.

The next day at the yearly Cave Maintenance Meeting, everyone is like, “Wow. Glog. You look GREAT. Ten years younger man. What did you do?” “Glog, I love what you’ve done with your hair! How in THE world?”

And the first human barber was born.

Yes, I know. Another one of my historical accounts. But this one has duel meaning, I think. It reminds me, that, sometimes, our vision is completely obscured. We really have trouble seeing. So much so, it could get us into trouble. And then, one day, our brain switches from ancillary mode to full power. And we have a moment of clarity. We see that we can easily remove the obstruction. If we try.

And the result? We find lucidity. We gain clear vision. We get the room with the view.

And tomorrow morning, I will shave my legs again, and see what I can see.


“I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way.”
― Carl Sandburg


“There are many ways of going forward, but only one way of standing still.”
― Franklin D. Roosevelt


“Even though there are no ways of knowing for sure, there are ways of knowing for pretty sure.”
― Lemony Snicket