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From Bozo to Buzzo
March 5, 2012 - Mike Donahey
My wife, or “better half” as I am fond of calling her, has a way with words. Orally or in writing, she has the touch.
Such was the case recently when I returned from an overseas trip with short hair. “You went from Bozo to Buzzo! ” she said. Well put. Photos were taken with two different cameras to document the historic event. (My hair had not been that short in more than 45 years, since the days my late dad would give me a crewcut. He was a good. Perhaps talented enough to be a barber, having taught himself how to cut hair coupled with a gift of gab and especially knowledgeable about baseball, current events and politics).
But I digress. My hair had been much longer when I left for the trip, hence the Bozo reference due to its nature to fluff out when dry or when static electricity took over. A ski band worn on cold or windy days only enhanced the look. A Nairobi, Kenya barbershop gave me the buzz cut, their specialty I learned, with a head and neck massage to boot. A shave was part of the package as well, especially welcomed after a 12-day beard had grown out.
“I didn’t recognize you when you came out of there,” said our team leader. Gray peach fuzz had replaced longer, white frizzy hair on top. The sides were neatly trimmed, not a hair out of place. Clean shaven was I and gone were the heavy, thick white whiskers, intertwined with an occasional black or dark brown hair, reminders of colors my hair and beard had been once before in another life.
More than two weeks after the cut, my hair is still so short I’ve only needed to “hand-style” it. I’ve received several compliments on the haircut and may keep it short for awhile. I’m sure my capable, local stylist can help. I’m motivated to do so. Why? “He looks younger with short hair,” someone said to my wife recently after seeing my new look. And that’s incentive to keep a good thing going.
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