There really aren’t too many of us these days: long-haired freaky looking guys. Especially those of us who aren’t that freaky. We grow up, get respectable jobs or just loose our follicles. Society eventually molds us to its will.
Or does it?
A funny thing happened on my way to respectability. I found out I just wasn’t that corporate. And I decided that in honor of my brothers who no longer can, if I can grow my hair, I should.
So here I am once again in familiar territory; the end of the dreaded in-between stage where you can’t pull all your hair into a ponytail so most of the time it looks like a mop in a light socket. “Push through,” I tell myself. “Wear a hat.” Oh yes, that doesn’t work either; my hair makes it slide up my head. “Push through.”