Starting to look like 1972 again
“She asks me why, I’m just a hairy guy. I’m hairy noon and night, hair that’s a fright. I’m hairy high and low, don’t ask me why, don’t know. It’s not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead.”
“Hair” by The Cowsills
OK, first things first. Let me make some things perfectly clear.
Yes, I do know this whole COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic thing is a very serious deal and that thousands have died.
And, yes, I do fully realize that many folks are being seriously impacted financially from this whole shut down, stay at home, get laid off, can’t open my small business, world we live in. I am actually one of those small business owners.
And yes, unless you are a late night TV host, you probably should not be making fun of the situation.
But, dang, I need a haircut. It is getting darn long.
I needed a haircut back in the end of February, but I put it off because I was leaving March 3 for a trip to Florida and I would get one when I came back.
Who knew this whole coronavirus deal was going to shut down all the barber shops and beauty salons first thing.
My hair grows pretty fast and gets mighty curly and fluffy. It always has.
When I was a kid in the 1950s my mom buzzed my brothers and my hair into what we called a crew cut. In the 1960s we went with the hip style of hair slicked back in what was actually called the greaser look. They made a musical out of that look, I believe.
Later in the 1960s I went with the long blond hair surfer boy look with a wave across my forehead and eyes.
However, from 1969 to 1972, I might have let my hair grow pretty long. It was the days of the hippies, and long hair was in, but in my case it was more a matter of economics. I was a dirt-poor, flat-broke college student.
“Darlin’, give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair. Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen. Give me down to there hair, shoulder length or longer. Here, baby, there, momma, everywhere, daddy, daddy. Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair. Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.”
“Hair,” by The Cowsills
It was the end of December, 1972, when I finally got my hair cut to a decent length. There were two reasons for that.
One, with some friends, I had purchased a newspaper in North Dakota and I was going to suddenly turn into a small town businessman. So, I could no longer look like a long-haired hippie freak.
And two, I was going to get married in the spring of 1973. ‘Nuff said.
I’m thinking another bunch of weeks of having these business shut downs and stay at home executive orders from the governor, my hair is going to start to look like it is 1972 all over again.
Come to think of it, gas was pretty cheap back in 1972, too. Maybe we are stuck in a time warp.
The one thing about these days, as opposed to those olden days, however, is that everyone is starting to look pretty shaggy; old, young, men, women alike.
Oh sure, those bald guys think it’s funny that the rest of us are getting desperate for a haircut, since they don’t ever have to worry about it.
And those who have always just buzzed their own hair with a clippers themselves and kept it nice and short still look the same as they always have.
One or two of those guys have volunteered to take care of my long hair issue, at no charge. Just like my mother used to do. So far I have declined.
There is another solution. A bunch of us could rent a party bus from Dan Brod and take a road trip to Georgia where the governor has opened up businesses including barber shops.
On the other hand, travel is not really advised during this coronavirus pandemic.
And, I am just not so sure I am not starting to get used to this long hair deal. I’m thinking I?look pretty good with curly, long, blond locks. (OK, so maybe what once was blond is now just gray.)
Seriously, I think I like it like this.
“Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees. Give a home to the fleas in my hair. A home for fleas, (yeah) a hive to bees, (yeah) a nest for birds. There ain’t no words for the beauty, the splendor, the wonder of my hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair. Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.”
“Hair” by The Cowsills
There is of course, one issue with this long hair thing. When I get up in the morning my hair is, well, a fright to behold. It basically goes every which way.
The only way I can describe it is a cross between Albert Einstein and Dr. Emmitt Brown of the “Back to the Future” three movies.
Sheesh, I?guess I really do need a haircut. And soon.