In the shower, on the lamb

The following conversation with myself took place in the shower the other day.

Q. You look great.

A. Thanks, so do you.

Q. Is that a tan?

Photo: Eric Stocklin

A. Yes, yes it is. I just came back from my honeymoon in Cancun.

Q. Please share an unusual observation you made about the staff of the resort you stayed at. 

A. All of the men had great, slicked back hair that stayed perfect all day despite any heat or wind. We left Cancun with some ceramics and a few sunburns, but I would have liked to have taken back some of their hair products.

Q. A honeymoon means there must have been a wedding. How'd that go? 

A. If there weren't 53,981,421 photos from the evening, I wouldn't have believed it happened. I recommend everyone get married if only for the food tasting.

Q. I understand the food was a hit.

A. Specifically, a lamb chop appetizer. I insisted at the tasting we needed to serve hunks of meat, so it filled my heart with joy to hear people were stalking the servers carrying the lamb chops.


Q. And by "people," you mean "men", of course.

A. Of course. I know my audience.


Q. So how involved were you with the wedding planning?

A. You know how politicians will vote "present" sometimes to indicate they were there for the vote when they don't want to vote? I was "present" for almost all of our wedding appointments.

That's not to say I wasn't for whatever Belle wanted; I just didn't say much during our meetings. Here's an actual transcript of what I said when we met with the florist the first time:

-- "Yes."
-- "Five."
-- "Purple, nice."
-- "Don't forget my grandfather."
-- "That's right, lamb chops."

A word of advice to all of you guys out there thinking about getting married. First, man up and ask her. It's the best thing you'll ever do. Second, go to all of the appointments. Don't even wait for her to ask. A lot of it is fun.

It's also a win-win. She gets to brag to all her girlfriends about how involved you are in the wedding planning, and you might get the chance to watch that football game you really wanted to see.

Q. There was as an eight-week span in the fall where you were at Kleinfeld in New York more times (three) than Ravens' home games (two).

A. That's a great line.


Q. Thanks. You thought of it.

A. I saw some things in that basement fitting area no man should see. I still have nightmares about ruching.

Q.  Suspenders?

A. Always. There are few times a man feels comfortable in suspenders. His wedding day is one.

Q. You're starting to prune a little bit. Any parting words?

A. I'm usually one of those people never at a loss for words. Twice in 2012 I have been a blubbering, speechless fool: first, when I proposed; second, when I got married. It's an incredibly humbling, awe-inspiring feeling to be in a room filled with love with the love of my life. All things wedding-related took up the majority of my free time last year and I wouldn't change anything.

Q. You're going to be a good husband.

A. I really, really want to watch the Ravens' playoff game this weekend.

Man v. loofah

I nervously walked in the store with my head down. I quickly scanned the shelves and grabbed the first thing that looked like it would do the job. Naturally, it had a naked woman on the label. I tried to avoid eye contact with the cashier as I made my purchase and quickly exited the store.

That's right, I recently purchased my first loofah.

Whenever the topic of my shower routine comes up in conversation, many people are surprised when I tell them I use liquid soap and my hands on my skin. It's dirty and inefficient, many people tell me before asking why, once again, I'm talking about my shower routine.

My counter to the dirty argument has always been my hands are covered in soap, so they clean as they get clean. The efficiency argument I had no answer to, however. I regularly see streaks of soap on the shower walls, like someone shot Pop-N-Fresh at close range.

So, at the suggestion of my girlfriend, my grand poobah of the loofah, I decided to change up my bathing routine.

My favorite part is getting the loofah started. I drop the soap right in the heart of the loofah, like the kill-shot on the Death Star. Then, I furiously start scrubbing until the lather appears. Now I know how the cavemen felt when their flints sparked a fire.

Once I was done loofah-ing, I didn't really feel any different. My skin felt a little raw, actually. Maybe you have to break in a loofah like a baseball glove. I also smelled, and therein is my biggest problem with the loofah.

Have you ever been inside Bath and Body Works? I direct this question to guys, because all women are required by law to have at least one item from the store in their bathrooms. I can sum up the store in two words: Dark. Forest. That's one of their scents. Why anyone would want to smell like pine needles and animal droppings is beyond me. Plus, dark forests are scary.

The scents for guys aren't that much better. "Fever." "Snakeskin." "Excite." "Thai Massage." And that's just from Axe. (Incidentally, certain guys will pay a little extra as they finish up the Thai Massage bottle.) Other companies offer "Clean," "Fresh" and "Clean and Fresh" scents.

I know I'm not the first person to say this, but if I want to smell after my shower, I'll put on some cologne. Real men wear unscented deodorant, too.

So I'm going to continue using my loofah, just not everyday. Of course, that could change. I'll be happy to keep you updated.