What a stupid haircut

 

What a stupid haircut







     From the mouths of babes often comes the truth, even if it hurts. This bit of brutal candor came from dear Elise of Kit Kat's good pals. Elise was a frank speaking kid who had as much fun at Bear Cove as any human ever did in the camp's one-hundred year history. It was a year when I received an invite to visit the Ziesing's camp in the forests of New Hampshire and was to be an adult airline flight companion to little Elise who provided charming company and a ride to the airport by her Dad. A week before the takeoff I decided I was bored with my fading presentation and asked Layla, my great hair stylist to give me something a little more youthful up top. Layla dutifully gave me the beau monde style cut close to the scalp with a kind of cowlick in the middle of the head. I was still an over-the-hill gent but I had a thirty-year old hairdo on my sixty-year old head. It was a shock to everyone except the cutting edge hip Perla who was in show business. I felt pretty self-conscious but knew it would grow out soon enough and my knobby skull would be covered shortly in the grand scheme. Elise, however had no filters in her pre-teen perceptions and greeted me with the statement "what a stupid haircut!" I did not take offense but put her words into the vault for use later like today's blog post. The sort of buzz cut did prove to be perfect for lake frolicking and my dearest doggie friend Clairie did not mind at all and spent quite a bit of time with her bestest human pal at lake's edge. Elise grew up to be a very nice and beautiful young lady who as far as I know still speaks the truth. It was a stupid haircut.








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