Wanted, Shorn or Shaggy.
If bad hair was a crime I would be in trouble with the law. A selfie haircut combined with bed head, and you better call the HD-CSI unit. I would be charged with crimes against hairdressing and sent to appear before a four star stylist.
My life of stylistic hair crime began when I quit paying for haircuts about 20 years ago. At that time Linda, my partner in crime, took up the responsibility for keeping my hair somewhat acceptable. We combed the Internet together to learn what we could about home haircutting.
Over the years MS changes meant that Linda could no longer manipulate the hair cutter and scissors. Oh, no - now it was up to me to make the cuts, with Linda acting as project coordinator.
One year ago Linda was in the hospital and I cut my hair alone for the first time. It turned out pretty good. Since then I haven't cut my hair again in the same way. Instead of sitting down to a total cut I have been randomly snipping at my hair when I noticed chunks getting out of control.
It has felt good to see problem hair and hack it back in a fit of rebelliousness. And I do believe it is an act of rebellion, whether you are five or fifty, because for some reason hair on the head is sacred.
I know lots of people that live simply, but none that have gone as far as cutting their own hair. Why? Because we quickly learn in life that head hair is hallowed, and only professionals shall alter it according to the latest fashions.
I figure the fashion police infringe on my freedom, so snip, snip, snip. If someone has a problem with that they can call in the hairdressing crime scene investigation unit. Of course they would discover that things are all manner of wrong, and I would be convicted of my crimes.
The punishment would be a full day spa treatment for rest, rehabilitation and better, more acceptable hair. However pleasant that might be, I am likely to be a recidivist in this department. Where are those scissors?