But enough about weddings. Back to the important stuff, like shaving.

Two nights ago, on a whim, I shaved off my beard.

Taking a few days off from it seemed a good idea, a chance to let my sensitive skin recover from constant beard-hair poking. But shaving seems to have immediately dropped ten years off my age. Which is to say, I look like I should be at Freshman orientation. Perhaps not wise considering that I spend most of my time these days talking with institutional investors, trying to convince them that I have the wisdom and gravitas to well manage tens of millions of their dollars in the world of film.

So, in short, I think the beard is coming back.

But, as karmic counter-balance, last night I shaved my armpits.

Well, not really shaved. More like substantially trimmed.

Before, standing in the shower, scrubbing my armpits, I was thinking about Jess’ long-standing product idea, Man Wash, a special scrub for guys that would somehow get armpits squeaky clean. Because, in my case, even after some serious and multi-cleanser scrubbing, there’s still a faint hint of post-shower pit-stink.

And it occurred to me there in the shower that the problem had to be the hair. I googled it up, and it seems others have thought the same thing.

So, off the armpit hair came. I don’t yet have any definitive results for how it will work, but my pits do smell excellent right now, even according to Jess. Which is surprising, because she normally otherwise accuses me of waking up smelling like a ferret.