To be honest, I thought that she had forgotten to get her
son, half way across the country, a Christmas gift. Come to find out, she was
holding on to it for safekeeping. I sat with my mom, Liz, Nana and Papa (the
Curtis half of Simon Curtis) as my mom handed me a large box with the Frye logo
emblazoned on it. I thought that I had just received a pair of boots. I haven’t worn boots since “cowboy day” in
second grade. They were bright red. I opened it and saw several
individually wrapped items. This one in newspaper. That one in tissue paper. As
each piece of paper was unfolded by my hands, the story unfolded from my mom’s
mouth. I began to unwrap each piece of, what once was, my great grandfather’s
possessions.
Harry’s razors and shaving brush. His manual hair clippers.
His Tuckaway, Gillette travel razor (assembly required). And, a Kriss Kross (I
know, it makes me want to jump, jump as well) stropper that uses a leather disc
to sharpen the razors. I pretty much swooned knowing that these things were used
nearly a century ago. Used during the time when my grandfather (the Simon half
of Simon Curtis) was born. Hearing her tell me about it, piece by piece, was
well worth the seven-month wait.
On a side note: With a career in advertising, I can’t help but be enamored by the instructions that came with the stropper. The imagery, the vernacular, and the assumptions that were made during that time period. It could be a post of its own, but I’ll spare the gushing, and just say that it is beautiful.
