Saturday, March 12, 2016

High Style

People say that the hair cut makes the man. If this is true, don’t expect to see me on the cover of GQ anytime soon. Not that you would anyway mind you, the clothes I wear (shorts, t-shirt), suit the climate (Hot, and sunny) I live in.


I digress, what I’m trying to say is that I am not very interested in my hair. I blame this on my Father. You see, he scarred me at a very young age; he made my brothers and I wear brush cuts until I was 13!


Image the indignity, the shame I, (and my brothers), had to endure growing up! I was called “fuzzy” by all of the hot 6th grade girls! I lost the class president race 21-7, even though I won the class debate between me and my rival. What respectful sixth grader wanted to have a nerd with a brush cut as their president?


What made it even worse was, this was the mid sixties when Beatle-mania was sweeping the nation and everyone was wearing the “Beatle” haircut.


Finally my Dad relented and let us grow our hair; big mistake for him.


I wrestled all four years of high school. There is not one picture of me wrestling that you can see my face. Every picture, all you can see is my head gear, and long blond hair covering my face.


I didn’t care; it just felt good to have hair!


Now that I am an old fart, I don’t grow my hair as long. Fortunately, I still have most of my hair, but I am impartial to it. I get one hair cut every three months, whether I need it or not.


When I do get a hair cut I have them shave the sides, and back with their No. 2 razor attachment and trim the front, leaving me with just enough hair to comb. I call this my “Sergeant Mike” look. My wife hates the “Sergeant Mike” look, but I kind of like it, it is really easy to wash and take care of, and cool in the hot weather.


After a month or two, I no longer look like Sergeant Mike, but a normal business person. My wife likes “Mike the Business Man”. I don’t really care, it is still easy to wash and manage, and pretty cool.


After about three months I look like “Mike the surfer dude”. My hair gets even more blond from hours of bleaching in the hot Miami sun, and it is flowing over my ears. My wife accuses me of using something to lighten my hair, but it has always lightened from exposure to the sun. My boss looks at me differently now as if I was “Tuning in, turning on, dropping out”.


When my hair gets to the point that it is bothering me, I go and become “Sergeant Mike” again.
Right now I am approaching surfer dude on the Richter scale. I am thinking about growing it long, and having a pony tail.


Don’t worry, it will never happen. My wife will see to that.
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This site is more a column than a blog. I write humorous, spiritual, and political articles. Everything I write is designed to make you think; what you think is up to you.