Hair Today

Last night I was hanging out in Baltimore with a buddy from college. It was a Bachelor Party--and although the night started out slow, it got quite a bit more interesting as the night progressed. Not too bad for a couple of guys at the half-century mark, and two young guys (his son, his daughter's significant other).

Drinking two shots of espresso at 4 PM helped me stoke up for the night that finally concluded close to 3:00 AM when I hit my bed sheets. The first stop of the night was dinner at a Thai restaurant in Towson, Md. I had Pad Thai, pork, with a drenching of fish sauce. I prefer not to think too much about what goes into fish sauce. Probably the fish equivalent of scrapple. Eyeballs, fins, guts. All fermented and then strained into some slimy goo.

I decided to not pack any beers for dinner. As a BYOB, I decided it would be best to not imbibe at that time in the evening. I am being conscious about drinking too soon in the day. Delays are healthy because the alcohol arc is postponed for an hour or two, cutting down on consumption. After Thai, we headed to a movie theater. Due to our lack of planning, we discovered that any film that was halfway worth watching was still over an hour away from show time. We did freeze our asses off walking from the parking garage to the cinema. We passed on American Sniper which was ready to start. Like we need another sorry reminder of the Iraq War fiasco that has unleashed the Islamic beast from its cage. Any second thoughts Cheney about arming the fanatics vs. the Russians now? Of course not. Of course not. The Russians were drunken dolts compared to these death lovers.  

We then headed to the new casino in BMore, all the while taking a tour of the city. My buddy grew up in BMore so he has an insider view. Arriving at the casino, brings me almost to to the point of the story (getting closer). While we were lounging about--not gambling--a disco-like band played down a story below and we stared from the level above down into the stage arena. After the boogie-woogie came to an end, a new wavey type band did a sound check. Finally, at 9 they took to the stage. I liked their sound, but the other fellas didn't, so we rolled to Max's Taphouse and then the Brewers Art and some dive in between called the Horse You Road In On in Fells Point where we got kicked out because my buddy's son was wearing a cap--not a ball cap which was OK--but just a regular old hat that one wears when it is cold. Pretty damn asinine. He was asked to take it off, did, put it back on, then bouncer fascist kicked us out. My buddy and his son got hot and started protesting loudly. They stated later that they have a fight or fight response. No backing away.

I got my 250 lb. body between them and Hitler hat-checker and pushed us out the door. It was private property and I had no desire to have us party with the police. When people act like dicks, and it is a happenstance type of thing where I will never see them again, I typically walk away. I don't want to become someone's problem. There are a lot of angry stupid people in the world. If it is someone who I will have to interact with again and again in the future, I am willing to confront and face them straight up. Otherwise, drop it.

After the hat incident, we went to some dirty pizza joint, scraps of food all over the floor, that had great food and some dude in an Eagles jacket was swearing his ass off with the FBomb and was weeping and crying about something involving his mother, a baby, real Springer-like shit. It was weird and awkward and besmirched the fine reputation of Eagles fans everywhere by association. When he left the joint with his crew, the place actually broke out in applause. I was trying not to be too obvious that I was listening in. I didn't want to get sucked into the vortex. But some Black Chica was filming the whole thing on her smart phone. City people are not normally shocked by odd and strange behavior. So, that was saying something that applause broke-out. We would have missed the whole thing if it had not been for the hat expulsion.

So back to the New Wavey band at the casino. They were talented musicians. All had those type of haircuts that cool artists have. Longer locks, some calculated disheveledness on top. Except the bald macho drummer who looked like he should have been playing for an Anthrax cover band. The dudes in the band looked like they had been gigging for 15-20 years. They were like a photograph that has started to show its age. A little fraying around the edges. The image still intact yet age has done its thing on their faces. It is funny how our hair makes a statement of how we want to be and be perceived.  

Time to take it to the personal. For the first time since college, I am letting my hair grow out. Sometime after graduating college, I started getting my hair cut short. A modified Marine jarhead look. When I was teen, I was shaggy. So, hair became an expression of my desire to go on the straight and narrow road. Company man, disciplined, athletic, hard-working. Now, at 51, I am attempting to trend to the artsy and contemplative. It fits my writer vibe. Hard to look poetic when one resembles Ollie North. Letting my hair grow is letting go...from prose to poetry, what is to what could be, introspective to imaginative, facts to fiction, the ground for the sky.

Last night was an absolute blast. I am grateful that I can still head out to the big city and let it rock and roll like a kid. No staying home in the rocking chair. Let it grow.