Hair envy

I watched Luzerne County Manager David Pedri being interviewed on TV this morning and could not help but notice his hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it. He looked fabulous. Which made me want to spit.
Obviously, the coronavirus lockdown rules have prevented him from visiting his barber. “I bet he hates his hair this length and can’t wait to get a trim,” I thought. Which made me want to spit again.
My friend Gary Mrozinski, whose hair I’d mortgage my house for, told me last week he can’t stand how long it’s gotten. “I haven’t had a haircut since the first week of March,” he lamented.
Boo hoo.
Time for another spit.
I don’t have any hair. Well, hardly any. And you know when I had my last haircut? Yesterday. I did it myself. I can’t go a week and a half without the few hairs left up there looking ridiculous.
So don’t expect sympathy from me if you’re starting to look like it’s the ‘70s all over again.
I’m the first to admit I harbor an ocean liner’s worth of hair envy. After all, I belong to the hair generation. From the greasy kid stuff when I wanted to look like Elvis to the mop top I worked on for an hour the morning after The Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan, hair has defined me. And every other guy my age. There was even a musical called “Hair.”
Then Mother Nature played this dirty trick.
Most of the time I handle it okay. I mean, it’s been close to 30 years since I’ve owned a comb. But every now and then, something happens to bring back the pain.
Like David Pedri on television. Or a few years ago when someone circulated on Facebook an old photo of me with long, wavy, shoulder-length hair.
Of course, all my students saw it. I told them I was about 22 or 23 then and life was carefree. “I never even combed that hair,” I said. “I’d step out of a shower, flick my fingers through it a little and was on my way.”
“Well, you do that now, don’t you?” one of the commented.
And you wonder why I’m bitter.

Ed Ackerman