the corner office

For the past 7-odd years that I've had this blog, my about page has said "I'm a won't-get-a-haircut-I-just-won't-dammit thirty-something South African." Now it just says "I'm a thirty-something South African."

It was long overdue, and finally it was time. The barber thought he'd died and gone to tonsorial heaven. "I ain't cu' 'air this long in the 48 'ears I been a barber," 'e says. (Which says more about the average Chislehurst hairstyle than my hair, which was long, but by no means Rapunzel-esque). "I'm a barber, I like to cu' 'air, I don' like all this fiddlin' abou'", he says more than once, "nowadays every'un jus' wan's a bi' o' fiddlin' about wi' 'eir 'air, I li' ta cu'" and "I'm 'avin' fun!"

I have made a new friend.

By agreement we experimented a bit. So we started out doing the short-back-and-sides with a mop on top. Kinda slick in a Gestapo officer kind of way, but I've never really aspired to looking like a Gestapo officer so decided to give that a miss. We went down to what he said was a 'French crop, been in fashion for 20 'ears nah.' That wasn't working for me either, so we decided to try a #4 all round. After more than decade of gravity, even a #4 was looking a little unruly, so in the end we went down to a #2.

Missus likes it and Leo approves. About 5 minutes after getting home from nursery school Mom asks Leo "have you seen that Daddy's hair's all gone?" "yeah it's all gone" mimics then looks again and the shock of realisation "it's all gone!", but thankfully followed by "it looks cool!"

So that's OK then.