When you get a haircut, be sure to go back home
When you get a haircut, get a barber you have known
Since you were a little bitty boy sittin' in a booster chair
Or you might look like Larry, Moe or Curly if a stranger cuts your hair
If you've been following this blog, you know that finding a new barber has been one of OG's main concerns in our relocation to California. So far, he's avoided dealing with the issue. He's getting bushier by the day but told me he plans to try to go another week or two before facing the inevitable.
I, on the other hand (being the bolder), dove right in. The lady in the condo across from us owns a salon in the shopping center a couple of blocks away, so last week I stopped by and made an appointment. Friday afternoon I had my hair cut by someone new for the first time in more than fifteen years. What do you think?
I've worn my hair basically the same way for more than twenty years and never this short, but I love it. I've even managed to style it by myself with reasonable success. It's quick and easy, and OG thinks it compliments my gamine personality. Ha!
Of all the changes I've embraced in the last few months, a new hairstyle seems the least frightening. After all, it's only hair. If I hate it, it will grow back. But I don't hate it. Like so many of the other changes, I find my new hair liberating.
Let's keep our fingers crossed for OG.