July 12, 2019
Dear Everyone:
About three and a half years ago, I was shampooing my hair in the
shower. My hair was quite
short in those days; and I kept it that way by having it cut every four
weeks or so. At that time,
“Jeannie” and I had the same hair stylist, “Mabel”, who had converted
part of her garage into a “salon”, a fact that I’m sure she never
mentioned to the business department of the city of “Alamo”.
At first, this had seemed like a good idea.
“Mabel” was tired of renting a station at a salon in Lafayette.
She wanted to run her own business, setting her own dates and
times for working, and so on.
She even promised that she would be available for special
occasions, such as weddings and other important social functions.
I usually made appointments for the two of us eight weeks in advance.
In other words, while we were there on Saturday, the 4th,
I would already have the appointment for four weeks ahead on Saturday,
the 1st of the following month.
Before leaving, I would make the next appointment for Saturday,
the 29th.
However, over time I began to notice that “Mabel” was playing favorites.
Even though the day was fully open on the 29th, she
would want to schedule us as close to the end of the day as possible.
It was pretty clear that she was holding the earlier hours for
other clients who had not made appointments yet.
In addition, “Mabel” decided to start working only every other Saturday.
Since “Jeannie” and I attend a Needle Arts meeting at the public
library in Martinez every other Saturday, this created a conflict as
“Mabel’s” “working-Saturday” invariably coincided with our meetings.
It was beginning to become annoying.
So there I was, shampooing my hair one morning.
It might even have been near the time to have it cut again when
it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have to get it cut.
After all, as I was no longer working every day, I had all the time in
the world to spend dealing with longer hair.
These days, instead of using rubber bands to control one’s hair,
there were all kinds of trappings on the market; such as cloth-covered
elastic bands in a plethora of sizes that didn’t grab and pull one’s
hair out. And there were
many, many variations of plastic spring clips to hold hair up and away
from one’s face.
At that point, I decided to stop getting haircuts.
Naturally, “Mabel”, being the center of the “Mabel-verse”, assumed that
it had something to do with her.
Of course it did, in part; but “Jeannie” assured her that I was
just Going Through A Phase.
And I did. I went through
the Holding-Hair-Back-With-Clips-Phase.
Then the Elastic-Band-Phase.
Then the Crochet-Snood-Phase.
In that Phase, I designed and made my own, since the
mass-production manufacturing sector seemed to have missed this
opportunity.
In time, my hair grew long enough that I could simply pull it back with
an elastic band, then twist the ends up and clip it all in seconds with
a medium-to-large plastic clip.
However. Having all
the hair on the back of my head turned out to have an important
drawback: The head restraint
part of my car’s seat. It
was optimally positioned to bang against the hair clip every time I
turned my head. Bummer.
Also, when visiting the dentist, having a large clump of hair on the
back of my head ran into problems with the latest in dental technology,
the chair that turns upside down with me in it.
The same problem arose whenever I was at a doctor’s office and
they wanted me, the patient, to lie down on an examination table.
And those popular new seats in the movie houses?
The ones that rotate back into recliners, remarkably like the
dentist’s chair? They
actually push your head forward if you have a lot of hair on the back of
it.
So there were a few issues with longer hair.
On the other hand, I found a number of inventive ways to wear my hair.
One involved pulling the hair back near the nape of the neck and
holding it with an elastic band.
Then I divided the hair into two sections and braided each
section. After that, it was
a simple matter to bring the two braids up along the back of my head and
fasten the ends together under a medium-size clip near the top of my
head. Presto.
People who saw it assumed that the two braids were, in fact, one long
braid and that I must have hair longer than Lady Godiva.
Also, it cut down on the banging my head against the head
restraint in the car.
And it only took me about six minutes to complete.
Then, last February, I was diagnosed with Obstructive Sleep Apnea (OSA),
and prescribed the use of a Continuous Positive Airway Pressure (CPAP)
machine. This involved using
a mask that went over, or around, my head.
And that meant figuring out how to accommodate my longer hair.
Over time, I developed a routine of sorts.
In the morning, I would take off the CPAP mask, then take down my
hair. Then I would put my
hair up with a simple clip to keep it out of the way.
After breakfast and a few morning chores, I would begin my Physical
Therapy Exercises. I never
skip these exercises as they help enormously toward pain management.
Since most of these exercises involve lying on my back, I would
take my hair down, then put up another way to get it out of the way.
Then I would take the hair down to take my morning shower.
After the shower, I would twist the wet hair up in a towel, or
two, to hold it until I was ready to style the hair, usually while it
was still wet, for the day.
The exact style would be determined by what I would be doing that day.
In the evening, after brushing my teeth, I would take the hair down and
dry it out with a blow dryer, then twist it back up with a clip for the
rest of the evening. Before
going to bed, I would pull all the hair up on top of my head and fasten
it with another elastic-band-and-clip, to accommodate the CPAP mask.
If anyone has been counting, that’s about five to six times that I would
take my hair down, then put it up differently, each day.
At roughly six minutes per up-and-down, that’s about half-an-hour
each day spent just messing with my hair.
And that’s just on normal days.
It was beginning to be a bit much.
Naturally, I considered getting it cut short again.
Naturally, I listed the relative pros and cons.
Naturally, I procrastinated for weeks.
Ultimately, I did an Internet Search for hair stylists in San
Ramon. I saw no need to deal
with “Mabel” and her inconvenient attitude.
Instead, last Monday, I chose a salon close to home and paid a
perfectly competent stylist to cut a foot or so of hair out of my life.
This whole week has been a series of revelations.
I can pull the mask off without having to navigate a series of
hair clips. I can shampoo my
hair in a matter of seconds.
I can put on the Medic Alert necklace, which I wear whenever leaving the
house, without having to clear clips, then smooth wispy ends back into
place. Ditto taking it off
when I get home again.
No more stopping to clean out the hair trap in the bathtub-shower every
other day. No more using two
towels just to partially dry my hair.
Just run one towel over it, run a brush through it and done.
In other words, wash-and-wear hair.
I like it. Subject to
change without notice, of course.
Love, as always,
Pete
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