Down here in New Orleans we recently had another all too familiar scene. A category 1 (some are claiming 2) Hurricane.
Isaac decided to park itself here for over two days thus inundating us with tons and tons of water and some ferocious winds. Although it was a "breeze" compared with Katrina, it did manage to knock out the power to most of the city.
Indeed, at this writing many parts of the city are still in darkness. I myself just recently returned to civilization after six days of triple digit temps in the day and sitting alone in darkness at night.
I did have running water so showering was not only mandatory but a pleasure. The refreshing effects of the shower were, sadly short lived in the heat and humidity and personally, if I am not clean shaven I feel "dirty" so I decided that as a sophisticated and civilized man I would make every endeavor to maintain my lifestyle despite the adverse conditions I had found myself in at present. Paramount among these was divesting myself of the wretched and totally uncharacteristic stubble I now found on cheek and chin.
We often discuss shaving as our forefathers did but always seem to obviate their lighting situation taking for granted Mr. Edison's wonderful invention. The sole window in my bathroom, shuttered tight against the storm (and exacerbated by my bifocal spectacles) was insufficient to afford enough light with which to shave even in the best of conditions. Under the gloom and and darkened sky it proved hopeless.
Being a true traditionalist I am in possession of several old oil lamps usually used for decorative purposes but now forced into emergency service as my primary source of illumination for the duration.
I found suspending them from above the mirror an impossibility in my bathroom as well as placing them beside the mirror. Placing a dim flamed oil lamp beneath the mirror created an illusion reminiscent of a scene from a Stephen King movie and was simply too eerie to be practical especially under the circumstances. Also, the additional heat rising in the already ovenesque house was intolerable. It was simply a logistical impossibility. But I was dogmatic in my desire to rid myself of my slovenly appearance and swore to persevere.
In my bedroom I have a desk which is situated before a window now shuttered against the storm allowing very little light to pass through. I also have one of my ancestors shaving mirrors. I placed the mirror atop the desk with an oil lamp on either side and that provided almost enough light to actually see what I was doing. This solved the illumination problem but my desk is not equipped with running water and I shudder to imagine shaving dry.
But fear not. Your humble narrator was a man on a mission and I rummaged around the old house in the darkness until I found an old porcelain wash basin and even a ceramic pitcher my ancestors had left for me should I find myself in such a situation somewhere down the line.
I placed the basin atop the desk near the mirror much like I imagine great grandfather must have before the house was equipped with the modern luxury of a bathroom. I laid out a clean towel, fetched some hot water in the pitcher and voila` I was ready to actually carry out this time honored ritual quite precisely as our ancestors did.
And with the wind outside howling like a banshee and the rain pounding a seemingly never ending tattoo, I placed the keenly honed Sheffield steel to my face and reentered the world of gentlefolk.
For six days this was my daily regimen and I do believe they were the best six VBS* shaves I ever had in my life. In fact, when the power returned this morning I truly missed shaving by lamplight in my bedroom.
Buckshot
P.S.
I urge everyone to try this. It is a unique experience but be warned. It must not be attempted without a final liberal splash of Lilac Vegetal lest you incur the wrath of your ancestors.
B.
* VBS is my personal designation of a shave surpassing BBS. It stands for the shave a gentleman hopes to attain on the night of his wedding before communing with his bride for the first time. Hence the Virgin Bride Smooth shave.
Isaac decided to park itself here for over two days thus inundating us with tons and tons of water and some ferocious winds. Although it was a "breeze" compared with Katrina, it did manage to knock out the power to most of the city.
Indeed, at this writing many parts of the city are still in darkness. I myself just recently returned to civilization after six days of triple digit temps in the day and sitting alone in darkness at night.
I did have running water so showering was not only mandatory but a pleasure. The refreshing effects of the shower were, sadly short lived in the heat and humidity and personally, if I am not clean shaven I feel "dirty" so I decided that as a sophisticated and civilized man I would make every endeavor to maintain my lifestyle despite the adverse conditions I had found myself in at present. Paramount among these was divesting myself of the wretched and totally uncharacteristic stubble I now found on cheek and chin.
We often discuss shaving as our forefathers did but always seem to obviate their lighting situation taking for granted Mr. Edison's wonderful invention. The sole window in my bathroom, shuttered tight against the storm (and exacerbated by my bifocal spectacles) was insufficient to afford enough light with which to shave even in the best of conditions. Under the gloom and and darkened sky it proved hopeless.
Being a true traditionalist I am in possession of several old oil lamps usually used for decorative purposes but now forced into emergency service as my primary source of illumination for the duration.
I found suspending them from above the mirror an impossibility in my bathroom as well as placing them beside the mirror. Placing a dim flamed oil lamp beneath the mirror created an illusion reminiscent of a scene from a Stephen King movie and was simply too eerie to be practical especially under the circumstances. Also, the additional heat rising in the already ovenesque house was intolerable. It was simply a logistical impossibility. But I was dogmatic in my desire to rid myself of my slovenly appearance and swore to persevere.
In my bedroom I have a desk which is situated before a window now shuttered against the storm allowing very little light to pass through. I also have one of my ancestors shaving mirrors. I placed the mirror atop the desk with an oil lamp on either side and that provided almost enough light to actually see what I was doing. This solved the illumination problem but my desk is not equipped with running water and I shudder to imagine shaving dry.
But fear not. Your humble narrator was a man on a mission and I rummaged around the old house in the darkness until I found an old porcelain wash basin and even a ceramic pitcher my ancestors had left for me should I find myself in such a situation somewhere down the line.
I placed the basin atop the desk near the mirror much like I imagine great grandfather must have before the house was equipped with the modern luxury of a bathroom. I laid out a clean towel, fetched some hot water in the pitcher and voila` I was ready to actually carry out this time honored ritual quite precisely as our ancestors did.
And with the wind outside howling like a banshee and the rain pounding a seemingly never ending tattoo, I placed the keenly honed Sheffield steel to my face and reentered the world of gentlefolk.
For six days this was my daily regimen and I do believe they were the best six VBS* shaves I ever had in my life. In fact, when the power returned this morning I truly missed shaving by lamplight in my bedroom.
Buckshot
P.S.
I urge everyone to try this. It is a unique experience but be warned. It must not be attempted without a final liberal splash of Lilac Vegetal lest you incur the wrath of your ancestors.
B.
* VBS is my personal designation of a shave surpassing BBS. It stands for the shave a gentleman hopes to attain on the night of his wedding before communing with his bride for the first time. Hence the Virgin Bride Smooth shave.
