About two and a half years ago I made a decision. It wasn’t a major life-changing endeavor, but more of a case of laziness. For the last thirty months or so I’ve been letting my hair grow (I told you it wasn’t a big deal).
This rejection of hair management techniques took on several different iterations. Origina
lly it started as a way to keep my head warm in the winter. However, once the spring rolled around I decided to keep it for a little while and see what it was like to once again have long hair (I was once a stand in for Gene Wilder).
After a year or so, it started getting a bit obnoxious and people began asking when I was going to get it cut. At this point, I was just starting to enjoy the fluffy coif and began telling people I was growing it out so I could donate it. That answer was somehow a socially acceptable reason to allow myself to resemble a convict. After a while however, I realized I’d need to follow through on this claim. This weekend, in the spirit of giving thanks, I decided to make good on my plan.
At first I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give up my Sampson-esque locks but as my mom
(that’s right, my mom cuts my hair) began laying waste to my curls, it became easier to accept. After about two hours the majority of my hair was gone. It was actually kind of nice to have my neck exposed to the freedom of the outside world. I knew it was the right decision when I asked my six year old niece what she thought and she replied, “Now you finally look like a man.” While I appreciate her youthful honesty, I’m looking forward to saving money on shampoo.
This rejection of hair management techniques took on several different iterations. Origina
lly it started as a way to keep my head warm in the winter. However, once the spring rolled around I decided to keep it for a little while and see what it was like to once again have long hair (I was once a stand in for Gene Wilder).After a year or so, it started getting a bit obnoxious and people began asking when I was going to get it cut. At this point, I was just starting to enjoy the fluffy coif and began telling people I was growing it out so I could donate it. That answer was somehow a socially acceptable reason to allow myself to resemble a convict. After a while however, I realized I’d need to follow through on this claim. This weekend, in the spirit of giving thanks, I decided to make good on my plan.
At first I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give up my Sampson-esque locks but as my mom
(that’s right, my mom cuts my hair) began laying waste to my curls, it became easier to accept. After about two hours the majority of my hair was gone. It was actually kind of nice to have my neck exposed to the freedom of the outside world. I knew it was the right decision when I asked my six year old niece what she thought and she replied, “Now you finally look like a man.” While I appreciate her youthful honesty, I’m looking forward to saving money on shampoo. 
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