Today was haircut day. Same time, same day, every three weeks, about a week faster than in my youth.
It’s not vanity. It’s not that my hair grows so quickly. It’s actually because I have so little hair that I have to pop in more often. As I have balded (you can see my picture on the “Author” page; I only put it there because it seems like it’s a requirement on a personal website), my hair continues to grow reasonably quickly (except, obviously, for the balding part). At a certain point (roughly, ding!, every third week), the effect is to make me look somewhat like a mad scientist (kind of John Lithgow in Buckaroo Banzai).
I once tried waiting more than three weeks and noticed, alarmingly, the I transformed from mad scientist to Bozo the Clown (sans orange coloring). That scare has kept me quite faithful to my schedule.
In previous posts, I’ve dropped mention of the long relationship my barber (not stylist, thank you) and I have. We’re planning on having a group dinner together this year to celebrate our 40th consecutive year (and same birthdays).
During that time, I’ve allowed him to direct me in how my hair should look (one day soon, I’ll post a bit why it’s dangerous for me to make my own fashion decisions). He recognized early in my youth that my mass of convoluted curly hair could not be parted (or not without causing nausea to onlookers). He also notified me when it was time to “crop” the hair shorter (to match the disappearing corridor atop my head).
Still, when I went in today and he started in with the clippers, I almost did a double-take. Since an actual double-take while in a barber’s chair would likely leave both of us distraught, I merely verbalized my concern by asking if he was trying to shave my head.
He seemed surprised and replied he didn’t think he was cutting any shorter than usual. I am loath to challenge the expert in any field I have no expertise in, but I was forced to disagree, stating the initial cut was much shorter than I had received before. Of course, the thing about a haircut is that once the first cut is made, you’re pretty much committed to shaping the rest of the head the same.
He pointed out that it was “time” for an even shorter cut, to avoid the “dip” around the top of my head (our aforementioned bald area; all-natural, mind you!). I didn’t know if I should be dismayed or amused by that statement.
I’m not self-conscious of my balding, so when I get the occasional question from someone about whether I would want to shave my head, I usually respond that I’ve allowed Mother Nature to determine my hair content up until now and see no reason to interfere with her work. As the commercials said, it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature!
Of course, there are spillover issues now. I had just gotten through growing my beard a little fuller after months of being somewhere between a full beard and those silly stubble things that seem to be so in fashion now. My new extra-short haircut makes my fuller beard look silly (not quite as silly as the one I saw on an NBA player last week, but heading that way).
So it appears that I will have to knock the beard trimmer down one notch and thin out the beard to more closely match my haircut. Which is too bad, because I was just getting the fuller beard shaped just the way I wanted it.
Looks like that project is going to have to be cut short.