Zen and the Art of Hair Maintenance

I didn't believe it would happen.  Perhaps I would be the exception to the rule.  Each night I gave my shortened locks a tug.  Tug, tug, tug - everything secure and battened done.  Then last week suddenly things went loose.  Little tufts in my hand with each pull.  Eeeks...no going back now.  Calm, calm, calm and hilarious when you think of it.  Little sprigs pulled out to display for frightened friends.  They looked like dog hair scattering everywhere.  Think of a dry Christmas tree - needles falling at the slightest touch.  My daughter Katie wrapped a scarf around my head, sprayed gel and said "don't touch it".  The temptation was great.  ARGGGGHHH...by Friday it was insane.  Homeward bound from Salt Lake I couldn't wait to brush it out and into the trash.  Handfuls with each sweep.  Saturday Scott turned my "male patterned baldness" into a smooth globe.  Ahhhh...zen ness returned.  I am surprised everytime I pass the mirror.  Today at work though there was no need to hide the cue ball.  The hat was tossed aside when it got too hot.  Or to shock.  Or to amaze.  Or to relax.  A bald noggin is a curiosity.  A bald head is, without doubt, a very, very bold fashion statement.  A bald head does not go gently into the night.  The cue ball is the best display site for new earrings, old earrings, or any earrings at all.  Who doesn't wonder what their head looks like under all that fur.  Well, now I know.  I rest in peace.