Andy Young: Using time more efficiently

By Andy Young

I’ve never been accused of being a quick learner. I was chosen for a Little League baseball team at age 9, but didn’t get my first actual hit until after I turned 11. I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was 19, and it took four additional years after that for me to buy my first car. It took me six years to acquire a bachelor’s degree, and I didn’t get my first serious girlfriend until … well, I’ll let you know when that happens.

But perhaps it wasn’t laziness or unwillingness to learn that was responsible for the slowness with which I’ve picked up certain things. Maybe it’s in my DNA. I base this theory on the fact I didn’t start shaving regularly until several years after nearly all of my age alike peers did. Until I was nearly 20, I merely snipped the occasional random protruding chin hair with a pair of scissors every other week or so.

However, once shaving became necessary, I picked up the essential skills seamlessly, and continued to use them on a daily basis until I took a summer job in Alaska at age 27, when, for reasons I cannot recall, I decided to stop shaving.

After a few razor-free days the face I saw in the mirror began looking so ruggedly handsome that I wondered if I might need to invest in some karate lessons, just to keep all those man-hungry Alaskan women at bay. But alas, that brawny, vigorous he-man look was temporary. After a month or so I began looking less like a matinee idol than like someone who regularly slept outdoors. The random thatch on my face came out in several different shades and occurred in irregular patterns. The only redeeming thing about my rapidly increasing unattractiveness was ultimately that I didn’t need to squander any money on learning the manly art of self-defense.

At the end of that summer, I clipped off every single facial hair, and have remained clean-shaven since then.

Until about six weeks ago, when I had an epiphany.

Like many people, I often find myself short of the time necessary to accomplish everything I’d like to. But then I had my brainstorm. If I stopped shaving every morning, I’d be buying myself an extra two or so minutes each day. Give up shaving for a month and I’d have accumulated an extra hour. I could create 12 extra hours of free time every year simply by going razor-free!

I began implementing my new time-creation policy the morning after the last day of school, and sure enough, after one month I had collected an extra hour of leisure time. I also had a developing beard that was only one color: gray. In addition, during that stretch I frittered away an extra three hours itching, picking crumbs out of my pseudo-mustache, imagining there were bugs nesting on my face, and explaining to friends (and occasionally frightened-looking strangers) that no, I wasn’t really homeless. The bottom line: giving up shaving yielded a net loss of two hours! Now I’m further behind than ever!

When school starts next month, I intend to be clean-shaven again. Like most other folks I have no desire to be the object of sympathy, and the only thing that inspires more pity than an unkempt, bearded man who looks like Bigfoot’s mangy cousin is an unkempt, gray-bearded man who looks like Bigfoot’s mangy grandfather.

Maybe I’ll miss that itchy beard after it’s gone. But if that happens, I’ll just use some of my recently reacquired spare time to buy myself an ant farm, and/or a scratching post. <