A Tree Falling in the Forest

My wise friend, Big A, once told me, "the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is two weeks." I am putting this principle to the test.

On Saturday, I went to my local Superduper Clips for a much needed haircut. I sat down in the chair and said what I say every time I get in a barber's chair, "#4 clipper, off the ears, tapered in the back." The lady clippered my hair, then pulled out a trimmer to do my neck and sideburns. These trimmers were the electric equivalent of a rusty cast-iron sickle bar mower. Rather than cutting the hair, it was removing it ten or so hairs at a time. It hurt, but I stayed quiet. After four or five painful attempts she decided to try another set. A little better, this time it was like an orbital sander rubbing the hair off. The third time was the charm, the third set seemed to work fine.

Apparently this process was messy because the lady then pulled her clippers back out and did the sides and back all over again. By this point, it was looking pretty short. So, she asked me, "is that too short?" Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to say? Yes it was too short, but what was she going to do? Does Superduper Clips have some kind of magic hair lengthening gel? And if so how much does it cost? So I said the only thing I could, "it's fine."

I haven't had a haircut so short since tenth grade. This may take longer than two weeks, but thankfully it grows fast.

It’s Friday afternoon, my nerves and brain power are just about shot. I can’t leave work until a meeting wraps up, so I am going to post something to my increasingly neglected blog. As a rule, I don’t usually tell stories from my workplace, but I think this one is generic enough that it will do no harm.

For several days this week I worked with my boss’s boss on a presentation he has to give to a group of high powered types. As we neared completion of the effort, we had to take a timeout to attend the retirement reception of my boss’s boss’s boss. So we set out to walk to the reception and were chatting and joking along the way. It was very jovial, especially for me, who usually adopts a reserved demeanor in the workplace. The banter continued as we waited for the elevator. Then the elevator arrives, the door opens, and we join an anonymous occupant in the elevator for the 15 story ride to the reception. The banter quickly ceases as I struggle to keep a straight face, breath, and avoid gagging. It seems the person in the elevator must have eaten some beans, or cabbage, or a dead skunk for lunch. So much for schmoozing with my boss’s boss, I was just trying to ignore the un-ignorable. When the doors opened, we all went in different directions without any further comment. When I realize the growth of my career has been stunted I will look back on this post and know why.

'Mountains Of Trash' Inside Car Blamed For Crash

My Lovely Wife was concerned about a woman in our old church that had filled her car up with junk and garbage to similar levels. I was worried about the woman's mental health as well, but I guess I could also be concerned from a safety perspective.

Do you suppose that old man was waiting for her when she got to the "other side?"

Today is Ronald Reagan's birthday. Let's celebrate with a quote...

"Government is like a baby: An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other." ---RonaldReagan