Today I made my first visit of the twenty first century to the barber’s to have my haircut.
This may shock you a bit but it’s perfectly true and I can assure you that I have been less lax in other aspects of my personal grooming. The thing is, for about seventeen years I shaved my head twice a week in a vain attempt to disguise the fact that I was going bald. If you have a bald patch in your crown or you have a receding hairline people will point out to you that you are going bald but if you are completely bald they don’t seem mention it.
But then in December 2013 I decided that enough was enough when it came to mowing the bonce so I had a crack at cultivating some hair, because I’m worth it. So I let it grow and grow until today. In those thirteen months it has amused me enormously to hear all the people who had moaned for years about me not having any hair suddenly start moaning because I needed a haircut.
It amused me even more to hear people telling me who I looked like with my new look mane. These look alike characters of mine included Albert Einstein, George Washington, Peter Stringfellow, Gerry Francis, Carlos Valderrama, the Wild Man of Borneo, Nanook of the North, Roy Wood and Penelope Cruz, though the latter was more to do with my slim figure and my striking facial features. My favourite comparison character was Father Jack, the whiskey soaked priest from Craggy Island and what pleased me even more was that no one told me that I looked like Kevin Keegan. Arse!
How my flowing locks appeared prior to the adjustments
made by barber Chris.
So to shut everybody up, apart from the Wild Man of Borneo’s adoring mum, and get a bit of peace I went and had a trim. I’ve been listening to my customers for the last few weeks and taking note of what they have done in terms of a hair do themselves but Chris, the bloke who did mine, said he hadn’t a clue where to even start with a shampoo and set or a blue rinse or a Brazilian. So we agreed that he should just keep hacking until the point where my ears might be revealed, rather like when the American historian Hiram Bingham chopped back the Andean forest to rediscover the long abandoned Machu Picchu in 1911. Chris was disappointed not to find untold amounts of treasure beneath the dense undergrowth, as Bingham had, but I did give him a quid as a tip so we both went home happy.
My flowing locks had been causing problems in other ways in recent months. For example, when the hair of a Foot Health Practitioner is a bit long and thick the Foot Health Practitioner might find a piece of stray toenail lodged in it when he scratches his head long after the working day has ended. But where there is little hair, such offending article is more likely to just ping off the head and land elsewhere in the owner’s home.
Another problem is that when the hair of an intrepid traveller is a bit long and thick and the intrepid traveller is trekking through a hot country such as Madagascar and is having to make do with wild camping with no bathroom facilities for several nights on the trot and the weather is very hot and the breeze blows up a lot of dust, the intrepid traveller is apt to find that his hair has become a greasy, gritty clod of matted fibre. In fact this particular intrepid traveller felt quite Rastafarian back in September.
The expense is even more problematic. When you have managed to go seventeen years without having to buy shampoo, conditioner, a comb, a hairbrush, a hairnet, Carmen heated rollers or a sink plunger to unblock the plug hole in your bath, suddenly having to fork out for such extravagances is quite a strain on the purse strings.
I’ll probably go and have my hair cut again in the next few weeks. It wasn’t all that bad an experience really. It seemed strange to think though that the fifteen year old Saturday boy who was sweeping up all the dead hair (for making up underwear … poor little Genie) wasn’t even born the last time I sat in a barber’s chair. Another strange thought was that the last time I went through this palaver Leeds United were being beaten by a team that had no right to challenge the mighty, and the same thing was happening again today.
How my flowing locks appeared after barber Chris had fashioned them into a trendy modern hair do.
It was a cold day so it was quite noticeable as stepped outside in my newly acquired shawn state. I needed to either buy a hat or grow some hair. So I went to the pub to grow some hair before walking home. I’m not quite sure exactly how much hair I grew but I certainly felt a lot warmer after a few pints.