Hair Cuts

When they go into a beauty salon to get a hair cut, men and women flip through the pages of the hair-cutting catalogue and try to decide, what style of hair defines me? In a barber shop you flip through the three-day-old newspaper until you get up onto the throne and define what haircut you desire. The difference, of course, is that in one situation you let others make you, and in the other, you make yourself.

I’ve never been much interested in my hair. It sits pleasantly upon my head most of the time, only disturbing me when it becomes long and I become sweaty. The extent of my styling is my hand brushing my bangs out of my eyes. The only treatment it gets is shampoo and occasionally the fingers of a female friend running through it. My hair seems to be perfectly happy with the arrangement and so am I.

But when it comes time to return to school and I haven’t had a cut for a couple of months, my hair and I decide that it is high-time for a trim. Usually the conversation to decide this is as follows:

Me: Hey hair, what do you think about a hair cut?

Hair: …

Me: Alright!

Within a week I find myself at Barb’s Barber Shop. Barb cuts my hair with a skilled enthusiasm and often pauses to reflect on the fact that I should be the governor of the state of Maine. I appreciate these comments for two reasons: She only has a little bit of time with me each month, but she feels compelled to cut out and save my every appearance in the Bangor Daily News, and she clearly has as much faith in our current governor as I do.

so honorable…

By the time she is done I always find myself looking in the mirror thinking, boy, I didn’t know I could look this good, which is significant because I generally think quite highly of myself when I look in the mirror.

Michelle and I know that we are unequivocally attractive and also the epitome of humility.

I could go on and on about how humble I am, but I digress…

Hair cuts are serious business, when I get back to school I’m aiming for good first impressions and hopefully a new serving job. I can tell you from experience that both of these things are hard to attain when you look like a reject from the 60’s.

Today I go to the barber shop as Cousin It. I shall hopefully return with the ability to stand my own in a charming competition with George Clooney!

…On second thought… I concede.

 

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