Okay, I'm no Walter, or Hal, (a.k.a. Bryan Cranston), nor do I care to be, but today I had one of those "Ah, shit!" moments!
I normally wear my hair buzzed off, but I usually stop at a 3/8" length. That was the plan today when I made my first swipe, on autopilot, but as I landed the second one, I saw the blue 3/8" plastic guard fall before my eyes, and then heard it hit the ground below my deck, where I usually cut my hair.
As "auto" arm completed the second and third plow, I saw a huge tuft of white hair also fall slowly to the ground. It was only then that I could regain control of my arm and stop the unwanted and deep furrowing!
I ran into the house to confirm what I thought I saw in my hand mirror, and Judy only had to say, "Ooooh!" I knew then that it wasn't a dream...it really happened.
There was only one thing to do; make it all match the clear-cut behind my right ear. So, here is the result...waddle and all!
It seems that I am making mistakes more and more often these days, and I can only blame it on my advancing age.
How in the hell did I get to be 67 years old! I thought long ago, after receiving my orders for South Vietnam, that my life would be short, and I would die young and pretty!
But NOOOOOooo, here I am looking at a stranger in a mirror with short, super short, grey hair. Who is he?
I suppose I really know the answer to that question, having documented my "life and times" in this blog (Mushy's Moochings). However, I just don't feel like I know that fun loving dude anymore. He's gotten old, and I never really liked old people, so how can I love me now?!
I guess I will though...carry on, that is. Memories are all I have left now and they are good ones, great ones. Wait, I think I can make a few more before I suck it in for the last time!
After all, there are grand-kids, and I have a Thunder Mule in my stable. So, let's ride it into the sunset. Giddy up, get it, go, gone!