shaved head mojo
Wednesday, March 19 2008
The recent experience climbing under my car with a welding mask had me hating my hair, so today at some point I went out in the woodshed (an outdoor place offering shelter from the rain and an electrical outlet) and used a pair of hair clippers to cut off all of my hair. I did it the same way I shave, not looking in a mirror but redundantly hitting the same areas multiple times. I used the closest setting of the clippers, so my head ended up being pretty close to shaved. Since my hair was as long as it's ever been since college, this had to be the single largest transformation it's ever undergone.
I cut my hair out in the woodshed so the clippings wouldn't end up anywhere in the house. I took off my shirt so as not to sprinkle it with itchy hair fragments, and though temperatures were nearly 50 degrees it was unpleasant conditions to be shirtless in. Later, instead of showering, I went over my head with a paper towel soaked in isopropyl alcohol. This acted to dissolve away the grease and dandruff of my bad old long hair days and pick up any stray bits of hair.
After consulting a mirror and making a few touch ups, I was ready to take it (and my new muffler) for a shakedown cruise. Sally and Eleanor piled into the car excitedly, never once doing a double take at my new look.
I was at the ShopRite buying apple cider for my ongoing hard cider operation and it happened again. Someone in front of me in line was nice to me in a way that only happens when I have a freshly-shaved head. I'm telling you, there's some weird mojo afoot about guys with shaved heads. I don't know if it's support for the troops, empathy for cancer patients, or fear of Nazi skinheads, but I feel like people treat me with more respect when I have a shaved head.
My hair before I cut it today.
My hair afterwards.
Then this happened later this evening: Eleanor and her belly and "the Baby" (aka Marie).
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