A Cry for Help

Like many, I travel, on occasion, by plane, and I think we can all agree that if there’s a single unbearable aspect of air travel these days – among the food, lack of legroom, and general indulgence in tacky upholstery – it’s the new DHS mandate that toiletries (or at least some subset of them too diverse to ever possibly remember) be stored in a clear quart-sized Ziploc bag. Several months ago, having concluded a flight, I reached my destination only to discover that in the process of trying to minimize my toiletry load I’d left my razor at home. A bummer, that, to be sure. For years now I’ve been on the Mach 3 plan, tantamount to the sacrifice of my 401K for a clean shave. How disheartened I was, then, to realize that, due to my oversight, not only would I be continuing to buy five dollar razor blades, but that I would also now be re-investing in the “technology” that makes them go.

All of which is to set the stage for the extreme pleasure I experienced the following morning when, after waking, I discovered lying unopened on my host’s kitchen counter a Gilette Fusion razor he’d recently received in the mail. (What it is that’s been fused I have no idea.) Can I have this? It’s yours. Done. Problem solved. No reinvestment, and, better still, an even closer shave (five blades, not three).

Why tell this story? To call attention to the plight of one Vladimir Radmanovic. NBA players, so far as I know, travel frequently by plane. I can only assume that the DHS regulations, being as esoteric as they are, are the reason Radmanovic has been unable to shave since he signed a free-agent contract with the Lakers last summer. What else could possibly explain why this poor-man’s Tim Thomas, who once looked like Darko’s big brother, now looks like he just finished shooting a Mel Gibson movie. Can someone get this man a free sample?