When I turned 30, I grew a beard. I hadn't ever really grown one before, and it was something I wanted to do. It was my way of marking my adult life. I had been a child, and I had been a boy, but it was time to become a man. That's not to say that I wasn't an adult previously, but, it was an opportune time for a marker, and it was an opportune goal. Unfortunately, Evan had recently given me a set of really thoughtful shaving supplies. She had given me a safety razor, and a badger hair brush to whip up some sandalwood shaving cream with.