Friday 27th July 2012
Male figures with beards
SNIP, snip, snip: Brendan’s curls floated like petals, down to the kitchen floor.
And as I reduced the thick foliage to a spiky lawn, he talked of ancient scriptures and a wizard called God, who constructed the planet and all living things upon it; who encouraged toiling for six days out of every seven; who first introduced the notion of obedience to an ill-tempered, invisible overlord.
Great tales, mind you: the boat that rescued pairs of animals; the brother whose dreams came true; the man swallowed not by the elderly woman of Emily’s song, but by a sea-going mammal.
We drank more tea, having agreed refreshment was necessary before I attempted removing the remaining cranial bristles with a device called a cordless shaver.
“And do people think these tales are true?”
“Not really, but many believe God will provide a life for them after they die.”
I tried not to giggle. I had heard mention of the giant God several times – Jenny, for example, screaming ‘Oh my God!’ when Clawed presented her with a mouse – but blindly to follow the edicts of a wizard from a bygone legend seemed both extravagant and fatuous. And why would the serfs believe that a character in an old book could offer permanent luxury accommodation for them when deceased?
Brendan set a mirror on the table, using the shaver on the whiskers of his cheeks, chin and neck.
“The men who want a smooth face… must they do this often, please?
“Most men shave every day.”
“Every day? Why?”
“Erm… I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask them, not me. I did once read somewhere that eight out of ten women prefer men without beards, so that’s probably it.”
He put the device down and grinned.
“So, is it an improvement, do you think?”
“No. It is different. Your face is younger now, but it is not better.”
I placed the flat of my hand against his cheek.
“It is both softer and harder. Will the skin on your head feel much colder when we finish?”
“No idea. Never had my skull shaved before. You ready to give it a go?”