The thing is, I already needed a haircut when the world shut down. Now, several weeks later, I REALLY needed a haircut.
I tried to make a deal with my wife, Jan: If you cut my hair, I’ll shave.
She didn’t like my scruffy face, but she was very reluctant to cut my hair. She didn’t want to bear any responsibility for this slowly-unfolding catastrophe.
But we went out on the lawn, I sat on a stool, and she did run the clippers once or twice through my hair, very gingerly. But she grumbled a lot – whined isn’t too strong a word. So I had to fire her. Which was a happy moment for her. She quickly disappeared into the house — even though I had taken off my shirt so she could see my six-pack! (Don’t worry, the closest neighbors are a mile away – although a few wild turkeys did gobble at me, admiringly.)
Anyway, since Jan didn’t cut my hair, a small bonus: I didn’t have to shave my nascent facial hair. My son, who has a beard, says the purpose of a beard is to create a strong chin. Women like a strong chin, he claims. So he said to cut the sideburns and mustache somewhat short and leave the area around the chin a little longer. Shave the throat hair. That makes you more attractive to women. Just a little tip for all you men.
Jan said: “Sorry, it won’t help.”
So, anyway, enough stalling. I cut my hair myself. I had watched a couple of videos. I only had a tiny little mirror out on the lawn. I think it turned out pretty well, although I still have no idea how it looks in the back. I might have a long ducktail back there. Or part of a mullet. I don’t dare look.
But I think it looks pretty good — if I wear a hat.