If you had told me that I would ever try to cut my own hair, I’d have told you you were nuts. Not only would my vanity prevent me from doing so, I feared my klutziness would lead me  to wind up with quilt-like scalp full of bald patches or even worse, I’d end up slitting my own throat.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Enter 2020 and the coronavirus.

And with every data point indicating we’ve a LONG way to go with this damned pandemic (despite our knuckleheaded government trying to accelerate reopening) and not wanting to risk my health any more than necessary, and not really digging my descent into looking like Sideshow Bob, I decided to go for it. I mean, why the hell not? Mother Nature has already taken care of the bald patch (singular, but it’s not small and it seems to be growing) and it’s not like my hair has ever been some fancy style statement. Besides, if I screwed it up TOO horribly, well, like everyone else I’m pretty much housebound so I’d have time to grow it out.

One ironic sidebar was that as I was going through my parents’ stuff recently, I came across a ton of photos from back in my youth. Man, oh man…I had a MOP when I was kid: big, curly locks that made me look like a blond version of the drummer for the band, Boston. Oh, how I wish I still had that ‘do. Ah well…such is life, right?!

Anyway, a couple of YouTube videos later and it was time. And, well, I don’t think it turned out too bad, do you? No, it’s not a good haircut but who cares? It was free. And my modeling days are over anyway. And to be honest: I had a good time. It was fun going for it, trying something new.

And hey, maybe my modeling career can make a comeback…