Two women were talking nearby. I was eavesdropping. The subject was hair.
"My nephew was visiting and he has one of those military buzz cuts," said the aunt. Then laughing, she added, "I remember when he was a teenager and his hair was long and he combed it straight up."
That's all I heard, but it was enough. I had no problem picturing the spiked hair. I smiled because that particular "do" seems ridiculous. But that's kind of the point, isn't it? It seems to be part of growing up.
And that got me thinking about how we play with hair. Throughout most of our life our hair makes a statement. It tells the world who we are or how we feel or who we refuse to be.
It's interesting how styles change. There's always pressure to conform, but it seems each generation must be different. No one wants to look like their parents, right?
When we hit the 60s my generation chose to let its hair down. Literally. Hippies rejected mainstream values and rules ... such as cutting your hair. Even the more conservative rebels kept their locks longer. I think we saw hair more as a statement than a fashion.
When I began to see purple streaks in my own family, I thought, "What the hey?! That’ll look great at your next job interview.” But ... I said nothing. I’m the old fogey now. A stranger in a strange land.
I think hair still makes a statement, no matter how old we get. I know my hair does. I can hear it now … whispering down around my ears.
“We’re still here. Look. Closer. You’ll see … some of us are still here.”
I’m Lonny Cain … and that’s my Perspective.
