As a man, a haircut appointment is a foreign concept. I can usually just casually stroll into any SuperCuts, WonderCuts or UberCuts, and within twenty minutes have a hair cut that after three days of regrowth looks acceptable. No appointment or forethought required!
But for those big moments in a man's life, a proper hair cut is required.
I used to think that those "big moments" were limited to a man's own wedding, or... well, I guess that's it, just a man's wedding. But apparently not, because my wife made me a haircut appointment this past week in preparation for my sister's wedding.
It was way past time for a haircut as well. I had meant to get a haircut about a month ago, but that was when my son Pete was admitted to the hospital. So for two months my hair has grown, and grown, and grown. It got so big and heavy that it was actually weighing down my head. If I turned my head too fast one way or the other, the sheer weight of my hair would cause my head to fall, and I'd have to catch myself in order not to topple over.
On the other hand, my neck muscles have never been so tone!
When I got my hair cut, I told the stylist that my hair was like the giant block of marble that Michelangelo used to carve the David out of. I meant it as a compliment - the stylist is an artist, and my hair was huge, so she could make my head into any type of art she wanted. But looking back, Michelangelo did carve out a marble penis for David, so maybe next time I'll use a penis-less metaphor when describing a part of my body being chopped off.
Or maybe not. If I left out every metaphor about wangs then I'd have half the blog posts that I do now.
The Existential Terror of Battle Royale
5 weeks ago