Young men missing life lessons of shaving

Men just don't shave like they used to.

According to www.statisticsbrain.com (my go-to site for statistics. And brains. And brain statistics), 75 percent of men in America shave every day. That seems high to me, especially based on seeing the number of young men (two of whom stand in line to inherit the Stanhope family throne) who obviously don't regularly shave.

Beards are nearly everywhere. Stubble is present in most other places. We have a month (November) when men allegedly don't shave.

Unfortunately, this change means that younger men (and some older men) miss out on some of the great lessons of life: Things that shaving daily teaches you.

(Not to chase rabbits too much, but the popularity of the stubble look for men has ruined one of the great phrases in our lexicon: "The five o'clock shadow." Is there a better example of using a term to describe something clearly? It looks like a shadow, you get it around five o'clock! It's a perfect word picture!)

Yes, shaving is a metaphor for life. Much of my (minimal) accumulated wisdom comes from applying lessons from my daily three-minute shaving ritual. Those lessons are transferable, too.

If you're a man and you don't shave, you might miss these pointers. So pull up a razor, get some shaving cream, a hand towel, water and take notes.

Here's what you learn from shaving:

1. Consistency is key. If you have regular facial hair (definition of regular: like mine), you need to shave every day. Day after day. Weekends. Holidays. Vacations. If you choose to not shave, that's fine, but it will be obvious. Shave occasionally and you create facial-hair chaos. You must shave every day.

The same thing is true in the rest of life. You win by doing the right thing every day: Save money, exercise, learn new skills. Do it every day and you remain on top of your game. Don't create life chaos.

2. Small things can cause big problems. Everyone who shaves with a razor has probably nicked his nose or earlobe. Small cut, right? Sure, but big, nonstop blood. It keeps coming and coming and coming.

The same thing is true in life: Keep an eye on the big things (don't do the life equivalent of cutting your throat with a razor), but don't neglect the small things. Tell your wife or girlfriend you love her. Go to the doctor regularly. Change the oil in your car. Don't let the important things become the bleeding earlobe in your life, because you can bleed out from that little nick. Or at least look silly with toilet paper stuck to your ear.

3. Recognize progress, but make your own decisions. I started with disposable razors, then switched to electric razors because they seemed better. After a few years, I realized blades worked better for me – and now I use a razor. The point? I experimented, but I didn't fall for the new-is-always-better line.

Shaving teaches us the key to evaluating life: Don't always believe the hype. That may prevent you from buying that great new flawed computer, the motorcycle you don't need or hooking up with a woman at your workplace. Newer is different. Newer isn't always better. Make sure it's better before you change. (And even if you think the woman at the office is better than your wife, don't change. Stay with the razor that works for you.)

Shaving is life, life is shaving.

Although now I'm nervous that I'll nick my earlobe again.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

British report on children, pencils seems suspicious

We should be outraged!

A report by Heart of England Foundation NHS Trust – one of the biggest operators of British hospitals – recently said that young children are finding it hard to hold pens and pencils because they use technology so much. The source for that information was "senior pediatric doctors," which sounds like doctors who treat older children (maybe teenagers?), but actually means doctors who have been treating children for a long time.

According to Sally Payne, the head pediatric occupational therapist at the NHS Trust, "Children coming into school are being given a pencil but are increasingly not able to hold it because they don't have the fundamental movement skills."

What?

WHAT??

"To be able to grip a pencil and move it, you need strong control of the fine muscles in your fingers," Payne said. "Children need lots of opportunity to develop those skills."

Payne blames the change on parents giving their children iPads, rather than building blocks, pulling toys and ropes. Articles about the study invariably report that traditionally, children played with such things as crayons to help them begin to develop the skills required to write.

This is outrageous! How ridiculous is it that in the 21st century, we rely on technology so much that our children can't even hold a pencil? Their fingers are so weak that they . . .

Wait . . .

They're too weak to hold a pencil? They lack the fine motor skills to sloppily trace things?

I call baloney.

Really.

How hard is it to hold a pencil? Do these researchers think we're so dumb that we'll believe that the average kindergartner is a 5-year-old version of Montgomery Burns from "The Simpsons," unable to grasp a pencil without fainting from exhaustion? Are we supposed to believe that the past 20 years have seen such a change in children and parents that teachers must show kids how to hold something that is easier to hold than a fork?

Hmmm.

Here's what I know after several decades on Earth: When a study comes out that says something shocking, one of the first things to consider is the source of funding.

Follow the money.

An example: I've been a diabetic since I was 14. During that time, there have been maybe a half-dozen artificial sweeteners introduced. Nearly all were heralded as the next big thing until the inevitable study: (Insert sweetener name here) causes cancer! It causes seizures! It causes extra arms to grow out of your chest! It turns you into a camel!

Some may be true (for instance, the camel one), but years of suspicion taught me that all those studies are financed by the same group: Big Sugar.

Who loses money if an artificial sweetener grows? Sugar.

Who funds those studies? I didn't do any research, but I have an opinion. I don't trust Big Sugar.

What does that have to do with weak-fingered British children? Well, just as I'm skeptical about the latest study that frightens people away from using artificial sweetener, I'm skeptical of a study that suggests that kindergartners can't hold pencils. It's absurd. Common sense says it's not true.

So who do I suspect?

Big Crayon.

Who would benefit from causing a panic among parents of young children that their offspring are losing fine motor skills because of technology? The folks who create crayons, the most popular way to build those skills in the preschool set – a way that nearly every article about the topic says is a natural way for kids to build pencil-holding skills.

Big Crayon!

Big Crayon should be ashamed of itself. And if you put sugar on a crayon and eat it, you'll get sick, according to a study I imagined.

See how they like it!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

There's a real problem with people who say 'long story short'

Mrs. Brad and I recently discussed about how certain people often tell long, involved stories and she made an astute observation: People who say "long story short" rarely tell short stories.

Her observation came after we sat through a long narrative about an experience someone had, as he added unnecessary details and descriptions of things that weren't germane to the point at the end. And he said "long story short," at least twice.

That people who say that rarely mean it is one of the ironies of life, like how duct tape shouldn't be used on ducts and that the only guy in ZZ Top without a beard is named Frank Beard.

Anyway, long story short, the storyteller took much longer to get to the point of his story than had he simply told us the key point. And he made it longer when he explained that he would make it short.

We all know storytellers and most are people who have always been that way. Hopefully, they've improved their skills throughout their lives, but that's not a given. Some people are just as long-winded at 80 as they were at 8.

I don't think that applies to me, but I don't really clearly remember what I was like at 8 and don't know if I'll reach 80. Maybe others do.

But long story short, I had a recent Facebook post wherein I shared the mean-spirited criticisms I get sometimes for my column and volunteered that I occasionally post them on my cubicle wall. I said it was "for inspiration," but really it's to amuse me.

Anyway, one of my friends – Kenny, who once lived in a treehouse – agreed with one critic who compared my writing with that of a middle-school student by saying that I've written like this since middle school. Because he's known me that long.

Long story short, another friend chimed in to say that I've always had "the gift of gab," which both amused and surprised me. Because I don't see myself that way and because I haven't heard anyone born after 1930 use the phrase "gift of gab." But my friend did.

I guess that's a long way to explain the fact that those of us who like to tell stories – and really, many of my columns are just absurd storytelling – do it naturally. Those of us who are too long-winded often know it and try to mitigate the danger by telling people we are going to make it shorter than it would be otherwise.

However, we don't always do so.

Long story short, we think that saying we're not going to do something buys us a little mercy from people, since we acknowledge our weakness.

It's like people who say "no offense" before they say something offensive. I don't know about you, but I've never said "no offense" without following it up with something that is potentially offensive. Otherwise, why say it?

Long story short, you don't.

Anyway, to get back to the point made way back in the first paragraph, Mrs. Brad is correct (nearly always, with the notable exception of an argument we had early in our marriage about our dresser and chest of drawers. Turns out she thought a chest of drawers was called a "dresser" and vice-versa. For one memorable time, I was demonstrably right. But, long story short, what followed is 30-plus years of me being wrong.).

Aren't people who tell wandering stories annoying?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

A star is born, but Streisand's dogs are cloned

It was the most jarring news of the past week: In an article in entertainment trade magazine Variety, it was revealed that Barbra Streisand cloned her aging dog and now has two clone-version puppies.

Think about that.

BARBRA STREISAND CLONED HER DOG!

According to the article, two of Streisand's Coton de Tulear dogs are clones. The magazine reported that Miss Violet and Miss Scarlett (the puppies) were cloned from cells taken from the mouth and stomach of Samantha, Streisand’s dog that died last year at age 14.

A star is born, but a dog, apparently, is cloned.

According to Streisand, Miss Violet and Miss Scarlett “have different personalities. I’m waiting for them to get older so I can see if they have her brown eyes and her seriousness.”

Whaaaaaaaat?

A reminder: BARBRA STREISAND CLONED HER DOG.

I'd like to think she and Neil Diamond sing, "You don't dig me flowers," to the dogs, lamenting the loss of Samantha. But probably not.

Does anyone think this is a good idea? Does anyone not think this will go horribly wrong?

Cloned dogs are coming in and out of her life, like her 1982 song, right?

Clones aren't new.

The first famous clone that I remember is Dolly the sheep (1996-2003). Is it a coincidence that Barbra Streisand was the star of "Hello, Dolly!"? That seems unlikely.

Anyway, an article about BARBRA STREISAND CLONING HER DOG in The New York Times reports that about two dozen types of mammals have been cloned since Dolly, including cattle, rats, cats (hey! Nine lives!) and dogs.

A lab in South Korea claims to have cloned 600 dogs and the cost for the cloning Streisand did is reportedly about $50,000.

BARBRA STREISAND CLONED HER DOG!

Here's the big problem: Anyone who has ever read a book or seen a movie about cloning knows that it always goes wrong. The same genes duplicated over and over invariably result in some sort of perversion that results in horror for everyone.

We all love our dogs. We all wish they could live longer. But we all believe that if we did what Streisand did – committed a crime against nature by hiring a rogue scientist to duplicate a dying mammal (I presume) – the result would invariably be either:

• A dog that kills us, or
• A dog with six legs and two heads.

The fact that Miss Violet and Miss Scarlett don't have extra appendages or external organs means that it's more likely that there will be some sort of turn. Streisand will be forced to learn that people who need people are the luckiest people in the world . . . but people who CLONE DOGS are the craziest people.

At some point in the future, Streisand will undoubtedly regret that she chose to clone her beloved pet (rather than, for instance, adopt one of an estimated 3.3 million dogs that enter shelters each year in America). As Streisand suffers the horror of seeing a biological horror she unleashed, at least she'll have memories of Samantha. Misty, water-colored memories.

And she'll ask herself: If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me would we? Could we?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.