That’s
normally what I tell my barber as I sit down in his chair.
Given the
continually decreasing amount of hair that still obscures my scalp from view,
it probably won’t be long until I switch to a crew cut. I don’t have any appreciation for hairstyles
that require gels, spay, mousses, or time spent with a mirror, brush, and comb. My hair has always defied style. It is fine, oily, and disobedient.
I grew up in
the Wild Root Crème Oil/Brylcreme/Butch Wax era when hair was held in place by
layers of grease and/or wax. It was actually
some relief when the weekly buzz cut for soldiers was the standard of
appearance. Those creams and waxes were
expensive and could ruin clothing in minutes.
When I worked
behind a microscope, I found that I needed a haircut when my hair began showing
up in the ocular fields. Now, it is age
that determines how I wear my hair and, to a degree, when I have it cut.
The lawn is
in need of mowing again. It is hot and
humid today, and there is a lot of trimmer work that should be done. It would be great if I could walk into the
house and say, “shorten it up all around!”
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