Tuesday, 9/29

 Well, they're gone. And I still don't know how I feel about it.

As I mentioned at the end of yesterday's blog I got the Corona Curls chopped off last night. Six months, three weeks, and six days after getting my last haircut I finally gave in and now look like a normal person, at least as normal as I could ever look.

Sometimes, it's hard being an adult.

8-)

Looking at myself in the mirror last night was actually kind of a shock. It's like looking at a picture of someone you recognize, but you're not quite sure who they are. That was me looking at me. I've spent so much time the last six months, three weeks, and six days starting at a wild mass of black & gray (and sometimes purple) on my head that seeing a tamed mass made me question who I was for a moment.

Who knew that was even possible?

Of course, I had the curls because I have my first taping date of my TV gig Friday, and I had always set that as the date before which I should look like a “normal” person. But I've become kind of accustomed to the way I look with shaggy, long hair. I mean, I know it's not the best look in the world, and I know that it showed off just how much gray hair I have, and I know that I probably look better with my normal, shorter, hair but still...

The Corona Curls and I have spent six months, three weeks, and six days together. We've gotten used to each other. But their purpose, I guess have ended. It's kind of like a summer fling, except it actually started in spring and was not fueled by love but by a world-wide pandemic instead. And maybe that's why I feel a little bummed the curls are going away. I probably won't have another excuse to grow them again. I certainly hope I never have THIS reason to grow them again.

And that's why it's a bittersweet farewell.

On that note, I have to go take my newly-shorn head over to NMU and do a run-thru of a show on the new set and with all the new protocols in place. I'll take a few pictures, and share them with you tomorrow.

(jim@wmqt.com), Corona Curl-free.