Hair Cut

It is even cooler than I thought it was.  Merril just gave me a haircut.  There was not much blood.  I don’t think seeing the doctor about a blood transfusion like Merril suggested, will be necessary.
It was time for a haircut.  Cultivating my wild man look for table tennis did not work.  I was hoping what was at the other end of the table would put the opposition off.  Did not work.  Probably the opposite.  They seem to concentrate more on the shot and the ball.
That was the longest I remember going without a shave unless I was growing a beard.  I do not grow a beard these days.  Merril says it makes me look older.  I did not know that was possible.  Though the day is fast approaching where it will not make any difference.  Old is old.
Still going from what I have seen being old can give a person a licence to say just about anything.  Dad was around 90 and told the person serving in the post office he was waiting for a letter from his mother.   Probably just as well it was untrue as people in the post office laughed.
I don’t mind getting haircuts.  Makes me look spiffy.  Though I do wonder if the grey hair put in the bowl when I am getting a haircut is my hair at all.  Looks too grey.  Mine is never that grey as long as I do not look in the mirror.
One thing about having less hair (not balding – follicly challenged) that occurred to me while Merril was cutting mine is the process is shorter as a result.  I did tell a barber once I should be charged less as a result, but he said the mark-up was in search fees.
It is not cheaper period.  Sure I make up money as I spend less on shampoo, but I spend more on sun screen.
I know someone who is really embarrassed about being balding.  They wear a cap often and do the comb over thing.  Not me though.  I admire the hair that is still there.  All the other hair in the area has abandoned ship but these ones hold on through thick and thin – mostly thin.  They have already gotten a head in life.
In fact, I was told this time there were more there.  I reckon I just need to find the right combination of drugs and it could be a veritable forest up there.  Though if it were a forest, I would probably change drugs as it is hair I am after.  But if the side effects were no good I would probably give it away.  I do not want people reporting sightings of the Yeti at my place.  Having photographers camped outside when I went to get the mail would be off putting.  I reckon it could lead to me being a recluse.  That could be even worse as photographers would probably venture inside to get great shots.
But I reckon I would be famous for 10 minutes for the readers of “That’s Life.”   The heading would be “I Saw the Yeti” and have a blurred photo which may or may not be a yeti.  But I would know it was me.  Buying up all the copies of “That’s Life” would break us financially and I would probably go further into my shell (most people do not know Yeti’s have shells).
But they say if the door needs painting paint it.  Maybe a haircut never makes me look good, but it always makes me look better.