The Razor, Strap, Mug, and a Brush

  Someone once said, "The only distinction between men and boys, is the expense and size of their toys." This tale relates a different outlook on that perception. The razor strap was never a toy, but it brings back wonderful images of days gone by. This story should forge, in those lads born in the 1940's, several memories from their youthful years. Moments to pause and ponder about the numerous times that they watched their fathers shave. How he would strop a straight razor methodically on the faithful strap, and whip the soap in the shaving mug to a foamy lather with that old brush. He then proceeded to remove the existing length of whiskers. Hopefully some of these memories will bring back the picture of the day their father took it upon himself to lather his son's face and give the youngster his very first shave. Of course he performed the act with razor flipped over using the blunt edge!

  However, some of those boys born and raised in the 40's, remember a far different purpose for the razor strap! This story dwells more on the positive uses and aspects of the razor strap. In its day the strap was used for accomplishing disciplinary goals. 'Nary a barbershop in small towns was without a suitable and oft used strap. After all, in those days a shave and a hair cut were but fifty cents and perhaps an additional sum for a tip. Every boy, who sat in the old barbershop marveled at how proficiently the barber would perform his duties with the hair clippers. Upon completion of the hair cut, he immediately prepared the customer for a close shave! He would steam the customer's face. This was accomplished by covering the customer's face with a towel that was wet and steaming hot. He would lather his face and  proceed to slice the stubble with a finely stropped razor. The process seldom took more than 15 to 20 minutes start to finish. The job was complete when the barber would splash some sweet-smelling toilet water or aftershave lotion on his customer's face. The barber would then remove the large fabric which he had placed upon the customer to cover him from neck to shin.

  Many were the times that boys partook of all the ambience of  those old barbershops. What a spectacle to have watched the old tobacco chompers munching their wad and then take dead aim and spit in the brass spittoon!

  Those days are gone. Those old barbershops are gone. The brass spittoons are gone. Those wonderful aromas of the toilet waters and shave lotions are gone. However, the memories always return. Those are always cherished!!!