Saturday, April 30, 2011
I was on a family vacation when I was 12 years old in Rhode Island. That’s when it happened. It was serious and came out of nowhere, tackling me. It stopped me dead in my tracks. I wasn’t even a teen. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t prepared for the ramifications of my discovery. I was sitting on a bed in a hotel room looking right in front of me at something I had never really seen before, baffled and bewildered. That’s when I realized for the first time, in that moment, looking in a mirror, that my hair was the shit.
It was long and blonde and my fingers slid through it with ease and awe. My eyes widened and the person on the other side of the bed looking back at me, smiled. Probably because he knew what it meant, and would go on to mean.
Life’s interesting. Great people discover great things. Benjamin Franklin found electricity. Columbus found India. The Romans found Jesus. Regis found Kelly and I found my hair, sitting on the top of my head just as it had always had been. Now though, it was talking to me, letting me know the future was going to be different now that I’d found it. My mom and sister saw my discovery and asked what I was doing in front of the mirror. I simply replied, “My hairs pretty cool...” They just rolled their eyes. Trust me though, it was/still is cool. It always will be.
My relationship with my hair has been nothing short of interesting. I’ve tried getting rid of it, pushing it back, or away. I’ve parted with it, and shot it up the heavens. It’s faded away, but always, it comes back to me. In lieu of other recessions in this world, people and things that come and go, my hair has never receded or retreated.
I tell you this now because reflection is important. I stand to look at the things in front of me and realize what’s changed or stayed the same. Things change. That’s life’s innate truth. You can reflect in front of nothing or you can reflect in front of a magical invention, the mirror. It’s the only object in this world that really lets you look at yourself and all your matter as a being. It’s this only inanimate object that lets you look at the most animate, alive, and aware object on the planet, a human being, without filter.
One thing has never changed for me. Thank God. That thing is how cool my fucking hair is. No matter what I stand for or how hard or fast the wind blows, my hair is standing, letting all the heads know what time it is. In my classroom it is always, awesome hair: all the time, o’clock.
I look at my reflection more than I look at anything else. It’s true. It’s not because I’m completely vain. It’s because I’m completely cool with myself. I gotta check in with McManus, say a couple words of wisdom, or give a pep talk. You can find me most times with your passenger seat mirror down, or checking out my reflection in a storefront window. I’m not ashamed of it. I like myself, maybe a little to much.
Regardless of how you feel about it or me, I love my hair. It’s worth its weight in gold, it’s just ironic that is it’s the same color.