This is definitely not a literary posting, and I suppose I could just as well have not remarked upon it today, but damn! I just had to tell somebody!
Went to see my father-in-law this morning to catch him early so that I could give him a haircut. He’s been hollering for one and they just haven’t gotten it taken care of there so I figured I’d give it a shot. Now I’ve cut my husband’s hair for sixteen years, my own for let’s just say a lot longer, and for many years did my mother’s, my dad’s, my sister’s, and even different neighbors’ upon occasion. I love cutting my husband’s hair because it’s so thick I just play for about forty-five minutes in his luxurious locks. I guessed his dad’s would be similar, though it’s more styled than I’m used to.
In proper barbershop form I’ll go the whole nine yards and do nose hair, ear hair and shave necks. Even know now how to trim to varying lengths the bushy Scottish eyebrows. However, in all my years I have never ever seen hair on the outside rim of someone’s ear. Now I realize that as people age certain things happen that are not real attractive. Men can get bald or hairier. Women can get stray chin hairs that need tweezing.
Honest to God, I didn’t know what to do. I tried cutting them off with the scissors, but knowing how fragilely thin the skin is on old folks, it made me nervous and I didn’t get close. Of course, while he’s salt and pepper, it’s the pepper that’s growing on his ear ridges. I tried the electric shaver and got a bit closer. I’ll tell ya, I just did the best I could. I wet down his hair and doublechecked for strays, put away my stuff feeling fine about the haircut, a little less happy about the ears, went to kiss him goodbye and then I saw them. Long hairs along the length of his nose. Cripes, I know he knows they’re there, but it was a bit awkward to tell him I had one more trim to make.
As long as nobody looks too close, he looks a lot better. On the drive home I couldn’t stop thinking about it though; my husband is his son.
Well, at least you guys won’t have to cough up the bucks for a full-body trim, you know… down the road a bit. ~8-)
Oh Lord, I hope not!
Getting old just sucks, all the way around. So does the alternative.
I don’t find myself bothered by the changes of age, though, as much as I am by the media hype that makes us think we’re supposed to look wonderful forever. (Maybe because I never lookd “wonderful” for more than a few odd minutes, ever.) It just makes it harder to watch my own age set in, knowing there’s a younger generation led to believe it’s somehow a choice, that if I really took care of myself . . . blah, blah, blah.
Maybe it’s just advertising that sucks.
Mentally I am happiest at this age; physically, I’m not. I hope evolution changes things in the future, and doesn’t waste youth on youth.