Welcome to today's unique & interesting content. Can you tell I've been reading blogs on blogging in order that I might drive more traffic here? Right now, Cary Grant saw more traffic standing in that field in "North by Northwest" than I'm seeing here. A plane buzzing my ass would be an improvement.
I pretty much discard any advice relating to writing code because I don't write code.
Virtually every time I've tried to "code" in some improvement, the blog comes out with a "Frankenstein took a spin in a rock tumbler" quality to it. So I'll be following the standard policy of inertia, "Dance with the One That Brung Ya".
That then pretty much limits all blog improvements to this, unique & interesting content. And let's face it, it's not my decision or any other blogger's what's unique & interesting. It's you, my imaginary reader's decision. All I can do is throw it out there everyday. That I've made three days in a row is my best effort to provide
U & I C. You're welcome.
On to today's tale from middle age...
About 6 or 7 years ago, I changed what had been just about a life time hairstyle (part on the side, hair swept over) to a total razor cut (2 on the side, 4 on top). I did it because I was tired of messing with my hair. It was easier to deal with, much cooler in the summer, and as you'll come to know if you read this blog enough, I'm all about the simplicity. I think it was in a style at the time, although that didn't matter much to me. I had reached an age & understanding with the wife where, short of tattooing swastikas on my knuckles, I could get away with just about anything.
So this works out until about 3 months ago when the older little Ghost looks at me and says, "You look bald." Now it was an exaggeration on his part as a teenage son is prone to do to his father, but he had a point. It's not like I hadn't seen it. You look up one day and realize what was once scalp was now head...forehead. Gradually like beach erosion or suburban sprawl, you lose turf that you'll never get back. I'm at terms with it. I made it to 2006. I'll certainly use that against the friends who didn't make it out of the 80's.
It's a dilemma today though because now I need somebody to cut my hair. When you're getting a 2/4 razor cut, anybody, up to and including your yard crew, can do it. Even when they screw it up, the wife can play giant Ken doll with your head and touch it right up. Today, I'm getting an artful & distinguished pre-combover actual haircut, and I need it done right.
I've been going to a place that's all walk in, and it's worked out pretty well so far. The regular crew consists of one cool guy, a bunch of girls, and a schleppy guy. If I had to pick one to cut my hair say for a wedding, I'd pick the cool guy because he's done it best. The girls I'll take any day because, and the married guys will attest to this, a haircut is the only time when another women is allowed to touch you. So it becomes a "two birds with one stone" deal for married guys, get a haircut
and get touched by another woman. The schleppy guy, no offense, is not touching my head. I'm no metrosexual, but if you look like you've got half a chance of coming out the door with your underwear on outside your pants, you're not cutting my hair.
The problem now is I've had to negative request the guy so many times, including an "anybody but him", it's getting uncomfortable. It's going to drive me back to a salon. I used to go to a salon, but the girl I had always had drama in her life and then started busting appointments. I already have a woman in my life who drives my crazy, and I've married her. I don't need two. For the expense & inconvenience of the salon, you do get that shampoo where she leans completely over you, if you hear what I'm saying. It's the Champagne Room of haircutting.
I think I miss that, and I think I've talked myself into it.
Thank you Blog.
