Some Hairy Thoughts

Hair? Who would blog about this vestigial reminder that we once had fur? Well, I for one would. Hair has played a sometimes interesting role in my life.

As a child, my mother took me to the barber where haircuts were twenty five cents, then fifty cents, and then on upward. My barber was Mr. Fly, a nice man who withstood my mother's wrath when cuts got to be seventy five cents. At about age ten, I told Mr. Fly that I wanted a summer cut with the number one cutter (about an eighth of an inch). I assured him that I would take all responsibility. He cut, and then I caught my mother's wrath. She called me a convict and banished me from the house until my dad arrived. He looked at me and said," If you wish to appear as a fool, so be it."

As a fifteen year old, I was the willing victim of some girls who told me that lemon juice and ammonia would do a nice bleach job. I opted for a streak right down the center of my head. A sort of blond Mohawk effect. My mother handled this rather well, by then somewhat used to my hair antics. That evening, she did mention that she hoped it wouldn't make my hair fall out. Relatively sure of myself, I reached up and grabbed a finger full to pull. Lo and behold, it came right out! Panicked, I awaited Mr. Fly for a sidewalk consultation, as he usually walked home from the shop by our house. He told me that he thought the hair would return. It did.

About that same time, I decided that I needed some sideburns. I shaved three or four times a week which was sufficient to get a decent growth by then. I had burns down below my ear lobes, and mother went into orbit. Mt father was smart enough to not forbid the fruits of my follicles, and he placated her sufficiently until that phase passed.

On the hair front, things were quiet until the early sixties, when haircuts went to an all time high of two dollars and seventy five cents. This was more than my budget could handle as a neurosurgical resident, so I bought a haircutting set at Sears and began to do my own tonsorial duties. This led to a permanent (for then), number one cut. As a resident, this saved time in grooming but required an increasing number of cuts to keep the hair under control at the length I wished. It so happened that around that time, I was fortunate enough to have a friend and neurosurgical mentor named Thor Sundt. Sufficient to say that Thor was a role model for a lot of his residents in many ways, was an excellent researcher and clinician, Became the chief at The Mayo Clinic, and by the way shaved his head.

I resisted the impulse for a time, finished my training with my number one cutter hair length, and became a POW of the USNR in Boston at the Naval Hospital, Chelsea. The commanding officer at Chelsea happened to be a short, pudgy, and bald little fascist who fell in love with the fact that I a smooth face and almost no hair while he was exposed to officers and students who wanted all the hair that they could get and still be regulation. My naval career was advanced in no little measure by the fact that the captain used me as an example of good officer material on several occasions.

Several years after the military service had ended, I began in earnest to use the Gillette and entered the cue ball phase of my life which persists to date. I was seated across from a then head of neurosurgery at The Meyer Brothers (our name for The Mayo Clinic). He cracked at me, "Who are you trying to imitate, Thor Sundt?" To which I replied, "Can you think of anyone better to emulate?" That's another story.

While studying for the neurosurgical board exams, I took a month off and decided to grow a mustache. My granddads had mustaches which fascinated me as a young child, especially when they ate corn on the cob. By the time of the exams, I had a nice semi-handlebar present. I did offer to shave it off when one of my old teachers commented on it. Fortunately, none of my examiners knew me and cared less about it than what I knew. A few years later, I spent my time in Saudi Arabia and added the goatee to look royal.

Things have been quiet on the hirsute front for sometime, although I tell each new grandchild when they ask what happened to my hair, that I told my mother a story once, and it all fell down to my chin.

Today's styles make hair a real strike against a man. The beautiful men have to shave or wax their chests. In my developing years, one ate carrots, the crust on the bread, etc. so one would grow up and have hair on their chests. Things change.

A Little of this and a Little of that

I finally got the new computer up and going. The old one died a short death last Thursday. It bugs me to be so dependent on a machine, but we were both lost without it for emails, finances, etc.

Hit the old Stop and Shop this AM. It is hard to find something to take home to prepare. It is all done for you. The best I could do was some turnip greens (they had these in a can too, must be a Yankee thing because I don't recall these in the South) and some ground beef for a meat loaf. I did get some ready to mix mashed potatoes too.

I also went out to the Newport Country Club to pick up some tickets to the US Women's Open Championship that begins there on 26 June. Boy! They have they spruced that place up, big time! I am a volunteer this year on the Admissions and Will Call committee. Two things really impress me about the event. They are VERY well organized, and they have motivated Newport to really make them welcome. No wonder at that though; they will bring in an extra 100,000 people over the week.

I saved the best for last. I went to the corner post office. The two workers that man the front desk are a real hoot. Both of them are "Rhodies" by speech, but they are also full blown conservatives. Here I thought that I was the only one in town. To hear them discuss topics from anti-histamines curing Multiple Sclerosis to what one lady does for a living is funny. They were all ears when I advised them that cobra venom was good for MS too.

I have a new (to me) cell phone at too good a deal to pass up, but the damn thing goes off several times a night with SMS messages from MY SPACE.com. I am sure that the last owner was either a pervert or else a "lady of the night".

Commercials and Idiots

I wish I could ask some Madison Avenue advertising people what gives with the commercial announcements (excuse me, the "in association with---") in the USA. For a week now, each time I watch a television program, I get to see a commercial every 5 minutes or so. Now, I understand that advertising subsidizes a lot of television, private and public, but I have a bone to pick with these people. Are they really so smart?

With things like TIVO available now, are they reaching the buying public? Don't most people mute the ads anyway? It is a perfect time for a bathroom break, a trip to the fridge, or a surf through the channels time. Why do I see the same commercial at the same time every day?

In CH, a program must be 90 minutes or longer for there to be a commercial break. Then you get 8-10 minutes of advertising. A 30 minute USA program lasts 20 minutes, and an hour program lasts 40 minutes there. Each is followed by several minutes (up to 10) of commercials. Granted, some are very predictable, but a program such as a movie, a tournament of any kind, the Olympics, etc. is much more enjoyable without this attention deficit-like interruption every 5 minutes. I find myself looking at the products advertised with a much more receptive attitude. Besides, after a week of seeing the same commercial at the same time each day, it gets annoying.

Of course I can almost hear the ad guys saying, "We do it our way because it is better than in the old country." Well, I submit it isn't better, and some of the old ways didn't need changing.

Some Reasons that I Know Where I Am

It is a comfort to know where I am, especially now that I am past 65.

In Boston, a convicted killer of his wife is claiming "cruel and unusual" because the state is not willing to pay for him to complete his sex change operation. It seems that Robert (now calling itself Michelle) has had part of the procedures but not all. The court has ruled that he could continue but did not say the state should pay. This murderer's lawyer says his client is at risk of suicide if the tax payers don't subsidize his surgery. I guess he strangled his wife because she didn't want to live with another woman. Maybe someone will send him some clothesline.

Ever notice what goes on in a baseball dugout? I don't mean all the scratching, pulling, and patting. I am talking about the spitting, mostly sunflower seed hulls, but also just saliva. It goes on on the field also, but that dugout floor must be a mess after a game's worth of expectorant. Do pros get such a dry mouth?

I am going to have to go to the drug store and check this out. A men's anti-aging "lifting" cream (no, it is for facial wrinkles, dummy). Are men so vain now, that they have to have anti-wrinkle cream, as well as, shave their chests?