Before. Also, After.

A short list of people who have demanded pictures of my hair after I have complained bitterly about how hideous it has become without a haircut since February because, apparently, humiliation doesn’t count unless it’s public:

• Our dear friend Diane von Austinburg
• Our niece Amber
• The Fashion Sensation
• Mikey from Chaturbate
• In fact, the whole sorry lot of chums from Chaturbate

Insensitive louts, all of them.

So all right, all right here’s photographic proof of the sorry state of hair I live with

But not any more, chicken lickers, because on Monday San Francsico reopened barber shops and Thusday I scurried down to my beautician of choice and GOT MY MOTHER FUCKIN HAIR CUT. Whoo to the hoo.

It took forever, both because of the volume to deal with and because Jeff, my barber, was glad to see me after so long and it turned into a bit of yak fest. But finally. after 40 minutes and about 5 pounds of hair, my head returned to normal. No tendrils wandering around my neck, nothing tickling inside my ear, I was able to walk down the street without being self-conscious about looking like yet another San Francisco Crazy Old Man. I was so very pleased I found myself making odd barking noises in the shower as I washed off the cut hairs. Arpff, arpff.

Speaking of before and after, here’s last Wednesday morning with out now famous Day of the Dead sky

This is 9:30 in the morning

and a more normal shot from just now for comparison.

The nasty choking ash infused air seems to have let up somewhat, even though the fires are still raging all around us. I have the windows open and a pleasant breeze that does not smell like the Salt Lick BBQ Joint is filling the house. The sky was more blue yesterday, but I am happy to take what I can get. You know why? Cause GOT MY MOTHER FUCKIN HAIR CUT.

What pretty eyes.

Looks cozy

That is an earth mover.

The key to my heart.