[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments on Martia's sub

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Much to do about a  hair cut. 



That’s a social comment and not a critique



Actually, I enjoyed reading this verymuch.  There is a droll sense of humor toit.    My wife cuts my hair. She is verygood The best thing about it though is that it saves a lot of time and money. 



When I was single, I let the hair grow theway it wanted to and tied it into a pony tail. It looked horrible, but itdidn’t cost any money  or time. 




 


 “Yourhaircut is cute,” I heard from a stranger in line at the checkout counter. Eversince I “cut my hair off” a year ago, I receive frequent unsolicited complimenton my short style from unfamiliar clerks, friends who haven’t seen me in awhile, and family members who see me often. 



 



“Itmakes you look younger,” some say. “It suits your face perfectly,” according toothers. “Keep it like that,” many add.



 



Thething is, no one has cared one way or the other about my hair for the past 60years. I’ve worn it shaggy, long and straight, with and without bangs, partedon the side and messy with no part at all. The most I ever heard was, “Oh, yougot a haircut” or “Oh, your hair has grown.”



 



Fordecades, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror wrapping my hair in spongycurlers, winding strands around hot rollers, turning ends over and under with acurling iron, and smoothing the waves with a blow dryer. During the course of anormal day, I would duck into the women’s room at every chance to check thecondition of my hair. I paid too much at exclusive salons for trendy cuts; Ispent nothing and neglected my hair for years at a time; I hid my unwashed hairunder ball caps and knit caps and swimming caps; I lifted my hair into ponytails and twisted it into French braids; I collected quite an assortment ofclips, ties, ribbons, and doo dads to decorate my mane for special occasions.Once, I experimented with changing the color of my mop. Let me just say, I’llnever do that again! I suffered through weeks of orange before it returned toit’s natural brown. 



 



Thesedays, I don’t pay much attention to how my hair looks since I can’t see myselfin a mirror anyway. I’m told it’s mostly grey now. Despite my years, it stillfeels thick and soft - perhaps because I only colored it that one time. Nowthat I’m in my 60s, it’s beginning to thin. That’s the reason a year ago that Idecided to cut it all off. 



 



Myyoungest daughter, my wild child, had been begging me to do “something fun”with it for years. Having lost most of my sight as I aged, I asked my daughterto pull up some photos of cute short styles that I could show to my trustybarber at Great Clips. 



 



“I’mgoing for short-short,” I told her. I couldn’t imagine how my hair might behavewhen 18 inches of weight was lifted off my shoulders, but I was ready for thechange. 



 



“JamieLee Curtis,” my daughter suggested. With low vision, I had no idea what theactress looked like. 



 



“Sendme the link so I can pull up a picture of her on my phone, I asked her. The daybefore my appointment, I opened my phone and shared the photograph of thisglamorous movie star with my 70-year-old husband. 



 



“Shelooks geriatric,” he said. I “googled” Jamie and discovered in fact that she isonly three years younger than me! Who knew? Still, I decided not to trust myhusband’s opinion. I had once asked him to match some earrings to my dress, butwhen my lady friend arrived to pick me up, she suggested something different. 



Good choice not to trust your husband’sjudgement. 



Besides, don’t you know that all menprefer long hair on a woman? 



“Purpledoesn’t really work with green,” she commented. 



 



So,I proceeded with Jamie Lee’s picture on my phone to the franchise where my newlook would only cost nine dollars with a coupon. 



 



“Whatdo you think?” I showed the photo to my hair dresser, a woman of about my age.“My husband doesn’t like short hair, and he thinks it looks geriatric,” Iadded. 



 



“Whatabout a bob?” she suggested. 



 



“Noway,” I protested. “I have to wear hats outside because of the glare, so myhair would stick out like Bozo, the clown!” My trusted and skilled barbercoaxed me to sit. 



I thought this was the first time you weregoing to this barber.



 



“I’llgive you a cute cut,” she promised. Luckily, I couldn’t see the handful of hairthat fell to the floor with the first snip. 



 



“Oh,can I save it and donate it?” I thought to ask. One of the other ladies on handrummaged in a drawer for an envelope.



I thought  that only long , straight hair had value forwigs.



 



”It’spre-addressed. You just have to apply postage,” she said as she scooped my longlocks into a plastic bag before slipping the bag into the envelope. 



 



Mystylist continued to cut away. She was getting closer and closer to my ears.“Snip, snip.” I shivered. As the stylist combed, the little scissors shaped andblended what hair remained with speed. Then, she took a razor to my exposedneck, tilting my head down for a better angle. I sat as still as possible, butmy skin began to prickle with the miniscule shavings that spread like nats on asummer night. With a warm blower, my hair lady attempted to clean me up, thenshe whisked the plastic cape off of me with a “voila!” 



 Did you suffer hair itch the rest of theday?  



Now, do you have to shave the nape of yurneck every day. 



Delightedby the feel of freedom, I shook my head enjoying the loss. Forgetting for amoment, the hair dresser held up the hand mirror for me to take a closer lookat my new do, then she remembered. 



 



“Itlooks great, doesn’t it?” she asked my husband instead. 



 



Ialready knew I couldn’t trust his opinion. He took a picture with his phone tocompare the “before” to the “after.” Within seconds, he’d had sent the photoout to most everyone in our family. 



 



“I’llfind out now what it really looks like,” I thought. 



 



As Isaid at the beginning of this hairy story, the compliments have never stoppedcoming since I was transformed into Jamie Lee Curtis…actually, with my shorthair, my sisters think that I look like our mother now. Dear Old Dad withdementia also mistakes me for his wife who passed two years ago. I take that asthe best compliment of all.




 


If you just got the haircut, you chose thewrong season.  It’s getting very cold. 


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