Life is like a movie...
Talking to my friend on the phone this morning. It's a windy day here in the Heartland. My friend asked me: "What about air travel today?" I replied: "What about hair travel?" So windy. You just know your hair is gonna go a million ways at once.
Hair. It's a big topic. A major concern. A good hair day? A bad hair day? I am happy just to have hair. Even my good hair days are bad hair days, but having hair is good, better than no hair.
Why is that?
I don't know. I grew up thinking the long-hairs were the cool ones. The Hippies. The Freaks. Rock & Rollers always seemed to have hair. Of course, over the years, there have been some cool bald guys. I think of the basketball icon Michael Jordan. He made bald cool, for sure. Guys started shaving their heads.
But really, you know, Jordan is one of the exceptions. I try to imagine myself bald and it's not pretty. Cue ball. Hair. It's a hairy topic. I have almost always kept my hair long, thinking there's some mojo in those follicles. Probably not true, it's all just vanity, a little bit of madness.
In high school I had more hair on my head than any other boy in the whole school. I actually got kicked off the basketball team in my sophomore year because I wouldn't get my hair cut. I was a hair rebel. Funny. It turns out I wasn't very good at basketball, especially sophomore year, I was sort of short and pudgy, I didn't have growth spurt until Junior year, so really, the team, the coach didn't miss me. I disappeared into my own little world.
Hair, it actually seemed to help me be invisible. At least, I thought so. Most of my high school days I spent reading, playing guitar and trying to be invisible. Hiding behind long clumps of hair.
My life, the movie: Hair Travel. Travels in Hair.