by Richard
Change can be a good thing. And, despite the allusion in the title, I’m not talking about the constantly growing, occasionally mutating pile of metal currency currently occupying space in one of your front pockets. No, I’m talking about drastic change. A sharp right, or left, turn on the road of life. Ninety degrees off true. Or, at least your previous course.
What brought this thought on was a trip to the local cheap hair cuttery place. The two older dudes were going there to get buzz cuts, George of the Jungle for his ROTC and Zippy the Monkey Boy because he’s trying to turn into a redneck and wanted one of the required haircuts. Of course, I had to take Speed Racer along because, well, because I’m a jerk and wanted someone to talk to when the other two were in the chair. Yep, it’s all about me.
At this time, Speed Racer had long hair. No, I mean really long hair. Hair that, if pressed down over his cowlick, would come down to almost his mouth in the front and fell to his shoulders in back. He’d had this for more than three years and had resisted any attempts to force or bribe him to get a reasonable hair cut. He liked it the way it was. Which made what followed that much more surprising.
He turned to me and said he’d like to get a buzz cut as well. After I reeled my jaw up from the floor, I asked him if he was serious. Turned out he was. Also adamant about getting it done right then. Who was I to stand in the way of progress?
Speed Racer, all of 10, sauntered over to the chair and hopped in. The stylist talked to him for a bit and then took out the clippers. She buzzed enough hair off his head and onto the floor, that I’m pretty sure we could have made a good-sized yappy dog. Which we should have done because I really do enjoy kicking those little horrors. Only problem is I can’t stand the high-pitched whining and yipping when I really connect foot to dog and it starts flying. Anyway.
After the haircut, Speed Racer walked over and he was a brand-new kid. You could actually see his face, rather than having to try and peer through the thick brush that had grown from his head. He couldn’t stop smiling because people couldn’t stop commenting on how different he looked.
He loved it. His football coaches and football team all had to rub the short hairs sprouting from his head. Parents walked up to me, looked at him and then looked again. They didn’t recognize him at first. He was the talk of his class for a couple of days. And, again, he loved it.
See, that’s what’s so nice about little dudes. He had no idea how he would look. He wasn’t worried. He just held his nose, jumped as far as he could and splashed into the pool. He made a change, a drastic change, for the heck of it. Just to see what would happen.
I think, as big dudes, we tend to lose that as we get older. Maybe it’s something we should consciously try to get it back. I think I will. As of today, I’m going to stop shaving. Sort of. I’m bringing back the (rapidly thinning and disappearing) hair on my head. Grow a full beard. Just to see what it looks like. Not sure the little dudes will recognize me, but, hey, that’s what change is for.
Let’s all shake things up.
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