Have you been to store to shop for body soap lately? Holy cow what an adventure! How many scents and silkening agents does one man need? I stood in front of the rows and rows of soaps with my jaw on the ground in blank stare confusion.

I am going to sound old here but I remember the soap isle consisting of your choice of a bar of Dove, Lifebuoy, Irish Spring or Camay. There was also the bar of Lava if you wanted to remove the skin from your body. I usually went with the Irish Spring because I thought of it as lathering up with a nice shamrock shake. I loved it when the bar of soap would become just a sliver and then, when you put a new bar in the soap dish, the old sliver of soap would adhere to the new one like a barnacle. When you got enough little slivers you could stick them all together and make one big Frankenbar of soap.

Nowadays there are hundreds of varieties of liquid shower soaps to choose from featuring ingredients and fruits I have never heard of. What the heck is jojoba butter? Since when did pomegranate seed extract and Tahitian palm milk become necessary to put on my head? How do you milk a palm anyway? I didn’t know if I should lather up or get a bowl and a spoon. After finishing a couple bottles I decided I should just go with lathering up. I am not sure if I smell clean or like I was in a jungle food fight.

This is all too complicated. I am going back to my sliver of Irish Spring. Manly, yes, but I like it too.