Off-Kilter

Mach-alypse Now!: We had no idea our readers were so hairy. Our contest to give away a sneak-preview edition of Gillette’s new Mach3 razor triggered a mini-avalanche of hair horror stories--from women with legs like Sasquatch, grizzled World War II veterans, prison inmates, boys hitting puberty, a transvestite and even one dog. All told, more than 100 of you groveled by letter, fax and e-mail for the $7 razor. We’re afraid of what would’ve happened if we’d been giving away something truly substantial, like one of those new talking refrigerators from Japan or the complete recorded works of John Tesh.

We also were surprised that nobody wrote an essay promising to use the triple-bladed razor to slash the neck of Barney the dinosaur, which automatically would have qualified the writer as a semifinalist. Even so, we received so many strong entries that we called Gillette and begged, “Yo quiero mas Mach3s.” The company sent three more razors, which allows us to name four winners. But the judging still wasn’t easy. We begin our anti-hirsute pursuit with six honorable mentions:

* “Why do I want the Mach3? I’m not working and where else can I get a razor for 32 cents?” (Ray Moon, Lancaster)

* “My grandfather died with three quarts of blood in his body. Another victim of shaving nicks during the toilet paper shortage of ’78. I haven’t shaved since. Instead, I tweeze my beard, producing more tears each morning than a ‘Touched by an Angel’ Christmas special.” (Avan Kroy, Van Nuys)

* “I deserve the Mach3 because I live my life as both a man and a woman. Trust me, there is no worse moment than someone else noticing premature beard stubble when you’re in the ladies’ lounge.” (Janyne W. Cresap, Long Beach)

* “My son is turning 14 this month and the Mach3 would be a perfect rite-of-passage gift for a boy progressing from peach fuzz to teenage werewolf.” (Sharon Craig-Insalata, Redondo Beach)

In the weird medical category, honorable mention goes to Sheldon L. La Zar of Encino, who wrote: “As a result of an injury at 25, my uncle has been in a coma for 75 years. He recently woke up with a 2-foot-long beard. Think about this: A shave at 100 years old, after 75 years and on the threshold of the millennium. A fabulous triple play for the Mach3.”

In the weird crime category, honorable mention goes to Sean David Taube of Santa Barbara, who said: “A mob of crazed hoodlums wielding bottles of Rogaine attacked me and sprayed me with the medicine. I now have to shave four times a day to battle the quickly growing hair.”

Other amusing entries came from Chris Shine of Los Angeles (“When I shave, my face feels as though I’ve used a gasoline-powered weed-eater”); Bill Williams of Portland, Ore. (“If O.J. Simpson can use the Mach3 without cutting himself, then make it sharper”); Danny and Nicole Kleinman of L.A. (“Give the razor to Al Gore, whose latest tax return and donations to charity show he can’t afford to buy one himself”); Evan Nossoff of Sacramento (“Like Richard Nixon, I have a heavy beard, so a good razor is all that stands between me and the power to cure poverty, crime and Kenneth Starr”); and Dan Oishi of San Pedro (“Me 21st century macho man, need Mach3 to keep up with 21st century babes”).

Phoebe Taymizyan of Los Angeles spent her 50 words complaining about rules of the contest: “I believe, Mr. Off-Kilter Man, that an essay consists of three paragraphs, each consisting of eight sentences, not to mention a four- or five-sentence introduction and concluding paragraph. So how am I supposed to compose an essay with less than 50 words, especially now that I wasted all 50 explaining what an essay really is?” Good point, Phoebe. But you still lose.

Michael K. Kelly of Cypress tried another approach. He admitted he didn’t want to have to buy the razor to try it, and hoped that “brevity and honesty count for something.” Not here they don’t.

We now turn to our semifinalists. If, for any reason, the contest winners are unable to fulfill their duties, the semifinalists will assume the title of Mr. (or Ms.) Mach3 1998:

* In the women’s category, it was a tossup between Sue Wilden of Indianapolis, who said her legs “look like Paula Cole’s armpits,” and Sherry Greene of Castaic, who said her legs resemble Ernest Borgnine.

* The most macabre essay was from Shayle Uroff of Camarillo, whose “best friend is a mortician who says one of the hardest parts of his job is giving corpses a decent shave.” With a Mach3, Uroff said, the undertaker could avoid affixing bits of toilet paper to the dear departed.

* The best nonhuman entry came in the form of a scrawled note from Burbank requesting the Mach3 because “the hair on my face tends to get matted, especially around my eyes, ears and chin--and little critters like fleas tend to migrate there. If I win, I will even let my master borrow it.” The essay was signed, “Smokey, a shaggy dog.”

This brings us to the final four:

* Donn Huffsmith of La Canada Flintridge wrote: “As the moon rises, I can feel my nails growing and my teeth. As the evening progresses, I hear the distant babble of angry voices. It is the villagers. Wild-eyed and chanting, they move closer. They are carrying flaming torches and farm implements. My need for a better shaving device is obvious.” Yes it is. So we’re sending a razor to Donn, and a clip of silver bullets to the villagers.

* Jeffrey Humple sent his essay from the L.A. County Jail: “I have to start trial in a couple of weeks and I want to look nice.” Apparently, the Constitution guarantees the right to a fair and speedy trial, the right to be judged by a jury of peers and the right to an attorney, but no right to a multiple-blade razor. Humple says the jail sells only single-bladed shaving devices and that inmates are allowed only one razor a week.

* In the nostalgia category, several World War II vets--including Earl Whitzman of Tarzana--waxed poetic about their G.I. razors, but we thought the best one came from John J. Merrick of Malibu, who was issued a primitive Gillette razor in 1940 as an Army tank officer. “Stained and battered, it still serves for close shaves on special occasions,” he wrote. “I’d like to try the Mach3 for the next 58 years.”

* Finally, our favorite entry came from Doug Gilmore of Long Beach, who reworked Julius Caesar’s “Veni, vidi, vici” (I came, I saw, I conquered) to “Veni, abrasi, sanguini” (I came, I shaved, I bled).

That’s it. Well, actually, we hope the winners will report back to us on the Mach3’s performance so we can milk this thing for yet another column item.

Best Supermarket Tabloid Headline: “Man Sues Girlfriend for $2 Million for Giving Him a Hickey! Her Love Bite Cost Me a Big Business Deal, Says Ticked-Off Ad Exec” (Weekly World News)

Another reason to skip this whole razor business and just grow a beard.

* Roy Rivenburg’s e-mail address is roy.rivenburg@latimes.com.