it was a sticky sweaty morning in Chiang Mai as we rolled out of our hotel one late August morning when the idea first sprung. “I’m cuttin my hair off”, I proclaimed to Nicole. Of course then, the reality of parting with a piece of my physical self that had been so much a part of me set in….i needed to think…so we went to McDonalds for coffee. The caffeine sided with my rational thought process which was tired of tasting melted hair wax and so I marched into the first barber I saw….and the rest was scattered on the floor 20 minutes later.
Fast forward nearly 2 years later. Most of which I had kept the bald look. Only in the past 2 months for nostalgia sake and somewhat to make momma happy, I grew the micro-fro back. It was fun, awkward and an interesting experiment in how hair can effect the psyche of the individual and those who he/she comes in contact with. Without it….in Korea, my head is super tiny…which to the locals is awesome. With it, i’m an alcoholic sex crazed foreigner….which at times I can see the misconception but the overall judgement is a bit harsh and unfounded. I personally feel much more at ease with less going on up top. Its cool, easy to manage and aerodynamic….i think in the dude’s handbook, those criteria are paramount across a broad spectrum of a mans life.
Over the past several years of my life, the nostalgia and attachment to things has dwindled. I find myself less attached to material things and inconsequential aspects of living and can let go rather easily. Hair is no exception. Two days ago after scrubbing the mass of product out of my scalp I made the chop again…..