Friday, April 22, 2011

Chop Phooey








Gabriella Herkert


Catnapped and Doggone





The best non-writing advice I ever received? Stop cutting your own hair. Now, the truth is I have received this advice from numerous people over the years starting with my so talented coiffure fixer Evey. Then there was Kriss, who gave me the Leatherman tool I used to whack my pony tail off and Kirstin who threatened to remove the children’s safety scissors that were all that remained of my cutting implement tool box. Let’s not forget my mother who tactfully pointed out I had no future at Vidal Sassoon and the surprised look of my too short perpendicular bangs looked like Barbie hair. Maybe I need to hear advice over and over for it to penetrate my thick skull. Then I need more time to process the words into useful life application.


What does ‘stop cutting your own hair’ actually mean? Emote outwardly. Okay, okay so I’m not a big emoter in any direction but you get the gist. My hair styling hysteria is the moment someone needs to die. When the impulse strikes, I need to get out of the bathroom and put my crazy self at the keyboard. Not only is that state of mind good for a murder or two, it’s a pretty good shot of imagination for both method and disposal.



Spend nine months arguing over a telephone bill with a huge bureaucracy of interchangeable players and you could go home and end up with a DIY Mohawk. Or, you can sit down and let your favorite gentleman character swing hard at an evil woman who bears a remarkable likeness to your utility counterpart. Now, your character may not usually resort to fisticuffs particularly with the fairer sex but Mohawk maintenance requires product and commitment. Plus, it doesn’t really go with the frumpy suits and girl shoes. Let him take a second shot if the moment hasn’t passed.



Fly coach in a middle seat at a moment’s notice to negotiate a major contract only to have your opposition no be able to find their own conference room. This can lead to a military buzz cut administered with the sewing scissors a helpful hotel concierge will provide free of charge. Of course, it will take a while so an asymmetrical punk look might be where you actually end up. To avoid a sunburned scalp and negotiation paralysis from the rubbernecking baby lawyer the other company has sent in unprepared, use a pitchfork. Name the victim using the first name of the other attorney and the last name of his obnoxious business partner. Stick him good. For that matter, let him linger a little. There’s something so soothing about ridding the world of people who waste your time and energy and think it’s okay because they work for a bigger company. Entitlement as a motive for murder. I can see it. And it leaves my hair at a length that allows me to put it in a ‘I haven’t combed it today’ bun. It’s the girl version of the boy bed head ball cap. I don’t want to lose that. It comes in so handy.



Have a loud discussion with an executive at your own company about actions you’ll be forced to undo and defend at the same time. Bald only looks good on Sine̕ad O’Connor and Demi Moore. I suspect my skull is full of bumps and flat spots. Worse, I might even have freckles there. This is the moment when a professional assassin is hired by a keep my hands clean society lion. Bodies fall. One after another. The good guys are stumped. Soon even the entrepreneurial marksman takes aim at our big wig bad’un. It’s so sad really when those in power can’t spin their assets and allies into legal bulletproofing. Sad and exhilarating. All without having to wait until it grows back.



Those friends who held my haircut intervention – they did good.



Thanks for reading.



Gabi

9 comments:

Michael Wiley said...

A great post, Gabi. I like to think of cutting one's own hair as a form of self-editing -- the problem with this metaphor being, though, that when one cuts text, one can immediately re-write it if the cutting was a mistake, whereas with hair . . . .

Meredith Cole said...

Hair does eventually grow back. Eventually. But who wants to live with a disaster every day while they wait?

Loved the pix, Gabi. And I'm glad you're focusing your talents on writing rather than haircuts.

Gabi said...

Yeah, Michael, I get it. There's no undo function in hair. Except for that big Barbie head.

Gabi said...

You're right, Meredith, I have no talent for hair cutting. Then again, a really bad effort will keep you indoors near your desk for long periods of time.

Shane Gericke said...

The Cowsills got a great song out of not cutting one's own hair ...

Great post, Gabi. I cut my own hair once when I was younger. Yikes! With my big ol' skull, it made me look like Uncle Fester.

I like Michael's explanation: cutting one's own hair is like self-editing ... which writers shouldn't do at least till the first draft is done. Then, Release the Kraken ... er, clippers.

Gabi, do you really have Big Barbie Hair?

Anonymous said...

Your post arrived two days after I discussed pros and cons of shaving my head for summer travel ease. Practical pros in terms of maintenance and hair out of eyes. Cons - cold ears, less protection from insect bites and sun burn. Jury today is to keep the hair.

Gabi said...

Shane,
During a recent wardrobe crisis at LCC, my ever helpful mother suggested I tease my hair and no one would notice what I was wearing. Or if. I work hard to not walk around like that accidentally.

Gabi said...

Anon,
A sunburned scalp is nothing to mess with. Stick with the hair.

Kelli Stanley said...

Gabi, you Jeannie with the light red hair ... loved the post! :)

I guess I'll have to scratch off that Flowbie I was going to buy you for Christmas, though ...

xoxo