Almost Cut my Hair


I’ve had longer than average hair since I was a kid.  Part of the reason is economic.  When I was young, my mom used to sit my brother and me down in the family room on a vinyl tablecloth and cut our hair with a pair of bandage scissors.  I go to a barber shop these days (sorry, unisex stylist), but even a cheap haircut costs something like $15.  I went thirteen weeks between cuts last time according to the computer.

Part of it is nerves.  I’ve never liked the hair clippers.  My head used to be swallowed by my shoulders when I was younger.  My mom said it was like shaving the sideburns off a turtle.  One time when I was about ten or eleven, we went to a stylist who accidentally poked me in the eye with a pair of scissors.  To this day, I generally close my eyes once they start cutting hair forward of my ears.

However, the primary reason is heredity.  My family follows the Conservation of Hair principle.  We are born with a set number of hair producing follicles.  For every hair that appears on our arms or chest is one less hair growing out of our heads.  I didn’t know how long I would keep my hair when I was growing up, so I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible while it lasted.  Mercifully, most of my hair seems to have stayed up top where it’s most visible.

These days, my hair is still longer than average though I tend to get my hair cut an inch or two above the collar in back, just above my ears and parted high enough to clear my eyebrows.  It’s just the average these days looks like the hairstyle of a marine recruit or chemo patient.  Until baseball caps become socially acceptable as formal wear (or global warming really kicks in), I plan to continue to buck the trend and go long.

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