This post is written in conjunction with the 30 Days of Writing, a blog challenge devised by Nicky and Mike at “We Work For Cheese.” I’ll be participating throughout the month of June. If interested, you can see my post with the details of the challenge.
Please note that some of these posts will be serious, some will be normal, and some will be an attempt at humor. This one is a little of everything!
Several years ago, our softball team was young and full of excitement.
We had some excellent players (note: we still do, this was just a different era).
Sponsored by a bar, we usually went out for a few cordials after a game. One thing we always seemed to do was underachieve. Despite having boatloads of talent, we never could find a way to win a championship.
Heading into that season (I think it was the late 90s), I knew we had something special. We had a team that could play at a higher level, specifically at states. But I had thought that in the past, too.
I still don’t know why I did this…
But I pulled my inner professional wrestler. Remember back in the days with pro wrestling that one of the biggest things people could do would be put their hair on the line in a match? If they lost, they got buzzed. It was always the bad guy, it seemed. And he’d lose and get buzzed.
So I offered my team the chance to buzz me. Qualify for nationals and they could do it. We did just that by placing fifth at states. The next week, following a league game, I sat in the middle of the bar with a beer in hand and got buzzed.
My hair grows quickly, usually.
In fact, it’s annoying. The sideburns will grow and “airplane” out. The back will get longer and on top, I’ll look like a shaggy dog. But I hate getting my hair cut.
Hate it!
The one thing I like about it is after getting it cut, they wash it and I get a short head massage. That rules.
Anyway, since being among the ranks of unemployed, I don’t cut my hair as often as I usually do. I figure there’s no rush for it and if a stream of interviews come in, it doesn’t take me long to get to the person who cuts my hair and get it trimmed.
Last week, however, I had enough. My hair hadn’t been cut in a few months and it was getting annoying — even to me. So I set things up and went and got it cut.
It’s funny when you have a full head of hair and get it cut. You look at things more as it’s being cut. Such as the strands of grey in the hair (which, honestly, never bother me). But the most alarming thing is the amount of hair that lands on the floor.
It makes you think, too.
In a time where the global economy seems to be taking a hit, there are certain jobs that are usually pretty safe — an undertaker, a politician and, well, hair people. The reality is, us regular, everyday folk, need haircuts. Maybe we don’t go as often as normal, but a good barber/hairdresser probably stays in pretty decent shape during these times.
Anyway, back to the appointment.
A clip here and a snip there and soon, my head felt a bit lighter. Looking on the ground and the amount of hair, I could see why. It definitely looks different and it feels different, too.
Now, atop my head, after that haircut sits a bunch of short hairs.
For the warmer weather, I can’t really complain.
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