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Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The Haircut

It was time.  I kept measuring my hair.  Not that I didn't kind of like it long. I was watching Youtube videos on period hairstyles and having fun (although the damn Victory Rolls really got me...could not do those!). I kind of felt like it was getting close to that time.  For my most recent singing gig, instead of copping out, twisting my hair up and wearing a hat, I curled the mane and did my Hedy Lamar-Veronica Lake do.  Long glamorous, movie-star hair!

But I had stopped cutting my hair August 29, 2009 (except for trims) for a very specific purpose: to donate it.  I remember hearing about Kaya going wig shopping after she lost her hair.  I knew about kids who get wigs.  I have relatives and friends who've lost their hair.  Mine is going gray.  There is no way around it.  It's getting grayer.  Obviously I do not have the Steve Knerly Dark Hair Gene.  I'm taking after Mom's side and getting gray.  Damn.  Sucks. The damn hair donations won't take gray hair.  (I am 25% gray now.  What's with that?) It was now or never.

I said I'd do it.  Damnit, I said I'd do it.  I'd made a pledge. Yesterday, I went to Best Cuts and had them measure me again for Pantene's Beautiful Lengths. It was long enough.

I didn't think I'd cry.  How stupid is that?  I've SHAVED my head, for God's sake.  Come on.  But I cried. I'm not sure why I did.  Is it because it took so long to get it that long?  Is it because it's a big change? I seriously don't know I cried.  If someone can tell me why, please do!  Maybe I'm just a sentimental fool!  

"Are you sure?" said Marisa the stylist.

"Yeah, just do it."  She turned on the clippers and I blanched.  Gulp.  Tears.

"Are you SURE?"

"Just do it, let's get this show on the road."

Afterwards she colored my hair, back to my underneath "old" color.  I am NOT gray underneath, at the nape of my neck.  Just on top.

Gray hair is very unruly stuff: mine is kind of kinky and curly.  I had forgotten that well-done, professionally done, freshly-colored hair is shiny and smooth.  And slippery!  The stuff is slippery.  Clips slide off of it.  Hair bingies fall out of it.  It will interesting to see what happens when I wash it!

I will probably continue to let it grow to about shoulder length, maybe a bit longer.  I'm grateful we decided to not cut bangs, those are a PITA to grow out.  I do like the versatility of longer hair.  I think more and more woman over 50 and onwards have longer hair.  It used to be, even 10 years ago, that if you were over 50, certainly over 60, it needed to be short.  Now you see people my age and older with beautiful longer hair.  Not "stupid long" (like the completely gray-haired broad at the Nat, with her big a**ed braid down to her waist that makes you just ITCH for a pair of garden shears).  Just nice long hair.  Oprah, Dr. Phil's wife, Robin, Jane Seymour, Susan Lucci, the Hot In Cleveland gals etc. etc. Heck, Linda Evans, for God's sake.  She's 68, looks great.

So yes, this miserable little ponytail representing months and years of care and growth....this ponytail is for you.  It's in the mail.  I kept my pledge.  It's for my Facebook friend, Sharron, who is growing out her peach fuzz after chemo.  And for my family.
(The link might work, if not please cut and paste.)

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Education....Hey, Parents Pay Attention!

I'll say it, up front, I do love kids. Mostly in small doses.  However.....let me ask this?

What do I look like? Bozo the flippin' clown?  (Does anyone even GET the Bozo reference any more?  Have I hopelessly outdated myself?)  i am NOT sitting (or standing) here educating YOUR bratty, squirmy, over-sugared, never-disciplined five year (who is acting more like three) so you can have a coffee klatch with your Mommy-And-Me mate.  Heads up, your kid needs to know this stuff and so do YOU!!  I am not your baby-sitter for a half an hour.

This message is for the two moms who sat there, while I'm trying to talk, watching, yes, WATCHING their two kids talk to each other, completely ignoring me AND the other kids.  I tried the old "Uh, I'm talking now" gambit.  No dice. I tried the "Do you guys needs to sit over there and talk?" (I keep forgetting ---- five doesn't get sarcasm. Darn.)  I looked at the mothers.  Not a clue.  Since when is it OK for your precious darlings to talk while another person (needless to say an ADULT) is speaking?  Shucks, did I miss the memo??

I finally said, "I'm going to stop until everyone is quiet." The other kids starting giving the offenders the stink eye and then finally the mothers heard the clue phone and picked it up.

OK, yes, I know I sound EXACTLY like my grandmother.  I confess. I will not apologize for thinking that your kid is NOT more special (bad English) than me or anybody else around him or her. I will not apologize for thinking that kids today are even more disrespectful and unfocused then I could have ever dreamed of being when I was five.

I was not perfect, not by a long shot.  But when a grownup or counselor talked to me and told me to do something or was teaching me something, especially at camp, I listened.  Because if I didn't....da-da-dum-dum....the long arm of my mother would come like Mama Bear letting her cub know that was so NOT cool!

And now a mother in Texas has been put on five years' probation for (gasp) spanking her kid.  What the hell is that??  I'm sorry for her: it's ridiculous. I'm hear to tell you: the last group of kids I had could have used a little bottom dusting.  Animals use positive and negative reinforcement.  I'll never forget my mother telling me, "When I tell you to do something now or stop dong something now, I mean NOW!" Then she told me that when she was growing up, a neighborhood girl, (whose parents were much like many modern parents who use reason and explanation) was hit by a car.  Her mom told her to get out of the street now, and the kid asked "Why?"  Last words she ever uttered..  My mother saw it happen.

I have learned so much from some of the great kids I've been privileged to talk to.  They can be really insightful, some of them really 'get it!"  I love the hugs I occasionally get!  The laughs. The Girl Scouts (Brownies, Daisies) are really awesome.

However, I have noticed the kids that are the most fun are the ones who are ironically are also the best behaved! one pause for thought.

The 21st Century Ivory Tower

The Fearful, Amazingly One-Sided Informed Modern Parent. A scary new species. My mother was never this freaked out.

It's easy for the 21st Ivory Towered folks to say you don't need to brush your teeth (the Evil Fluoride) or get a shot because they live now, in the 21st century.  They have the luxury of not living in the days of the not-so-distance past where getting the measles could kill you or leave you unable to have children. They don't live when public pools were closed because of polio. Their siblings didn't not spend hours, weeks, months in iron lungs or have to wear braces on their legs.  Very few of them have scars from chicken pox.  Their wombs are not barren. They have most, if not all their bright and shiny white teeth.

If they do have scars or crappy teeth, it's often a result of their own stupidity. But it is rarely because their mom didn't haul them off to the doctor for a shot in the a--- every now and again.

The 21st Ivory Tower Folks have the luxury of not having their children die from childhood diseases.

So many people let the Magic Box (the Interent) tell them how to think, feel, act, believe. They let it parent their children and make "informed" decisions for them. The scientists, doctors, nurses, government and drug companies are all part of the Evil Empire that are going to kill your kids.  I'm not saying that all of aforementioned speak the gospel truth.  Hardly.  But does the 21st Gang get a second, third, fourth opinion from a real, live, face-to-face human being?  Do they opt for the one-shot option? Do they coffee klatch at the PTA with other parents? No they blog and post and search for the Worst Possible Case Scenario and then latch onto that like a remora on a shark!!

The 21st Ivory Tower Folks' grandparents (and likely parents) remember and shake their heads in wonder.  Must be nice, they muse.  They remember a pregnant sister who was exposed to rubella and lost her unborn child.  They remember the cousin with the braces on her legs, dragging herself across the grass so she could hang with the other kids.  They remember diphtheria, influenza killing hundreds.

Some mom in Senegal right now is lining up, tired, thirsty on a hot muggy day just so she can get her kid that d---n shot so maybe he has a chance to live into adulthood.

Science is not the Great God, the End and Be All.  Of course not.  But remember, all you 21st Century Parental Units, without a just smidgen of science you wouldn't be in a position to flail folks with your It's All Bad rhetoric on the internet. You'd be on your knees praying to whatever Higher Power you subscribe to that your kids don't get seriously ill. Or worse.


Looking up words to Lara's Theme from DR. ZHIVAGO) -- 15 minutes of my life I won't ever get back.

Printing the words out -- .02 cents (paper, ink)

Never, ever, ever having to ever sing it --- PRICELESS!!

I sure as heck hope they don't request it tomorrow night. It'll be a new low, right down there with "Feelings" (whoa, whoa, feelings...) and the ultimate "I refuse to clutter my brain with ever learning the words to this ka-ka-poo-poo -- that's why have it written down" song ---- "Achy Breaky Heart."