Still Doing it the Old-Fashioned Way

Dearest Rachel –

I can’t remember if you were still around at the time – some things feel like they happened so long ago, but given our circumstances, I can’t prove to myself they were that long ago anymore – but at some point, my folks got rid of their old snowblower for a smaller and lighter model. They couldn’t push around the old beast, due to its size and weight, and it wasn’t like we got huge snowfalls here in Chicago all that often. They offered it to us, and I want to say that, since you didn’t like seeing such a functional item get thrown out, you offered to give it a good home.

The idea was, we would basically rotate it and the lawnmower between the garage and the new shed, but once I engaged the same landscaping team as my folks employ (and I sometimes wonder what you would have to say about that), that lawnmower never made it back out of the shed again, and the snowblower essentially claimed the middle of the garage due to some inanimate version of squatters’ rights.

But for all that it’s been right there all this time, presumably ready to use whenever needed, I find myself passing it over consistently whenever we’re dealing with any appreciable amount of snow. Instead, I’m out there with one shovel or another, still doing it the old-fashioned way. And while it’s obvious to me in the moment I make the choice, at some point I do find myself wondering why I constantly choose to do so.

To be fair, there are certain times where the snow itself forces me to make the decision. A light dusting, like the type we got overnight this past evening, isn’t even enough for the blower to pick up and toss elsewhere – and even if it could, the wind would eventually whip it back onto the driveway, or worse, the front stoop. In fact, even a shovel isn’t the right tool for today’s situation (assuming I even want to address it in the first place); better to attack this powder with a push broom instead. Other times, when there’s been a deep, wet, sloppy snow, it can be too much even for our monster. It just chokes on the thick, heavy stuff, and refuses to get much done. Best to resort to the brute force of one’s own muscles, at that point.

And that’s the other thing; for all that the snowblower does make the task of clearing the pavement easier and faster, there’s a certain sense that I just don’t need either of those, for the most part. On the contrary, I could use the workout (and in so doing, excuse myself from bothering with the gym that day) – and the fact that I already work out means I’m more capable of this kind of manual labor than I have been in years, or even decades. So, I might as well put my newly-toned body to the use it was intended for, and it might even get that much more benefit out of the work as a result. Meanwhile, apart from the weekends, when I have places to be, most days don’t require me to hurry through the job (unless it gets too cold outside; and given the exertion of shoveling, that tends to be the opposite of my problem by the time I’m done).

Meanwhile, I remembered last night that I’d asked for – and gotten – an electric beard trimmer for Christmas from my sister, because while the disposable razors I use on my cheeks and neck keep them smooth and hairless, they’re rubbish when it comes to levelling out the growth I have along my jawline. It feels weird enough to look in the mirror and see an academic staring back at me; to see the beard of a rabbi on me when I’m not Jewish (although after enough trips there, I’m starting to familiarize myself that much more with Israel) is just strange.

But for all this that I’m telling you about this look of mine, ever since getting home from the folks on Christmas day, I haven’t bothered to break into the bags full of gifts and actually put them to use. In the days since, I’ve just kept going through my usual shaving routine of getting the hot water running, pouring it over my razor, and scraping away at my throat and cheekbones, with the occasional diversion to try and get this or that stray beard hair in line; all this, when I could be using the new device I’d asked for and received. Gifts are meant to be put on a shelf, though; they’re meant to be used.

So, after taking the time to charge it last night, I actually put it through its paces this morning. And I’ll admit that it works a treat when it comes to the beard itself; the instrument calls itself a ‘hedger,’ and it does give off vibes similar to the effect of carving topiary when you’re using it there.

On the other hand, it doesn’t do much for the neck or cheeks. Maybe it has to do with how the blades are set; for what it’s worth, they don’t cut the skin, either, so maybe they’re set back specifically to even out longer, already-existing hairs. Regardless of the reason, I’m still left doing those areas the old-fashioned way, but together, I think it looks a little better than using only the one tool I had previously.

In any event, now that that’s taken care of, I might as well get started with my day. Keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck, as I’m sure I’m going to need it.