The first time I was in Graduate School, I grew my hair out for an ENTIRE YEAR.  What began as an unserious New Year’s Resolution between two bored and directionless friends morphed into a social experiment as the year went on.  Although nothing about my character had changed, many people treated me differently as my undomesticated mop grew progressively more unruly.  A number of individuals felt compelled to give me their unsolicited opinions about my appearance (which seems to have been a common occurrence throughout my life), and although most of the feedback was overwhelmingly negative, a few elderly ladies with male-pattern baldness were certifiably envious and highly complimentary of my locks.  Pretty hilarious.

And when I finally got a haircut, all my teachers said, “Josh, we’re so glad you’re finally taking things seriously.”  (Little did they know, that couldn’t have been further from the truth at that time in my life…amazing the conclusions people will draw when they can see the back of your neck again).  And I had a special surprise for one girl who had uttered some particularly vitriolic words for my hair in its longer days.  I had saved the remnants of my sheared mane from the barber shop, formed it into a “creature” of sorts, glued googly eyes on it, and presented it to her as a gift.  She was speechless, and my friends laughed pretty hard.  Some probably would have criticized me for not donating to Locks of Love, but sometimes when magnanimity takes a backseat to mirthful payback, it results in a better story!

There’s probably a bunch of pithy life applications I could make from this story, but I’ll let you Choose Your Own Adventure this time…although I’m not sure it’s a coincidence that I ended up meeting the love of my life after my haircut😊