Today is the day that my wife and I get our hair cut. She has an appointment. My last trip to Great Clips was four months ago and the curls are now out of control. About a month ago, it was fondly reminiscent of my college days but lately it just itches. Also, it takes an hour to dry after a shower and the gray mass spreads like a weed. Poofy, frizzy, and unkempt are the best words to describe my latest look. At one point, I laughingly tried to gather the back into a ponytail, but the rubber band kept falling off. Yes, at my age, I’m fortunate to have a plethora of hair, but now that the salons have finally reopened, it will be a relief to get it under control. This mop on top of my head reminds me of the musical that I saw in Chicago over 50 years ago.
Hair“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 knowIt’s not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead”