Yes, yes I am.
I mean, if it’s good enough for Robert Forster— however, I’m not nearly as meticulous and masterful about grooming as Forster is with shampoo. Indeed, I think the only personal-care products that matter to a lot of men are shaving cream and aftershave. And entirely too many guys never get beyond the products used by Dad or the Roommate Who Always Scored.
I should describe how far behind I started. Male grooming was not a hot topic growing up in Montana in the ’50s and ’60s — except the guys stopped putting bear grease like Wildroot Cream Oil on their pates by the end of that era.
(I never understood why a lunatic parody of Dick Tracey made an effective spokestoon for hair goop — other than he and Tracy both being greaseballs — I mean, look, the guy has three holes in his head!)
I started out when I had enough fuzz to shave by using an old electric razor that belonged to my father. I still have it and I’m glad. But I would be deader than he is before I would ever let it near my face again. As I developed the rudiments of a real beard, I noticed my cheeks felt sandpapered after the Norelco got through with them. No wonder — I soon discovered that electric razors (back then, anyway) ripped and wrenched and even pulled out whiskers as they “cut” them. So for years I had a full beard. But like my mother, I began to get gray and white hair in my 20s and I was starting to look like a middle-ager with a salt-and-pepper beard when I was barely into my third decade.
So I taught myself to shave with a hand razor and learned that, like cheap wine, cheap shaving products were swill. I used Gillette products when they were a local powerhouse in Boston but I was so discouraged by the P&G merger/takeover that was the end. For years I used King of Shaves from England and I still think it’s a superior product, but I couldn’t help noticing that there was an increasing amount of ugly resistance to it making headway in the American men’s market. First fewer and fewer varieties available, then harder and harder to find, period.
Then suddenly, my jowls were saved! I have come across the finest, most affordable shaving cream for those who can’t be bothered to stir up the lather business and yes I know that’s the hallmark of a Serious Shaver. Tuff. It Ain’t Me, Babe.
I will start with my biggest complaint about the product: it has the stupidest name in the history of merchandising — Creamo Shave Cream.
Otherwise, it’s perfect for a man of my needs. You use a dollop the size of a large almond and get dozens and dozens of shaves from a single (not expensive) tube. I like the light citrus scent and its silky texture has kept me from nicking myself even once in months and months. And the closeness is unbelievable — like the whiskers have vanished. Can’t plug it enough.
There. The commercial is over.