By Walter Geiger
Some of my earliest memories are of watching my Daddy and Granddaddy shave.
I would stand in the bathroom and watch in awe as they lathered up and cast off the previous night’s crop of whiskers with a big old safety razor. Sometimes, they would let me coat my face with shaving cream then remove it from my whiskerless skin with the razor without a blade in it. I felt so grown.
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