Of Corona and Coiffeurs

Amid a global cataclysm induced by the coronavirus pandemic, the year 2020 comes to a close with a faint, almost hallucinatory, promise of a utopia where all 7.8 billion people on Earth will soon be made available an effective vaccine, which they will then willfully inoculate themselves with before proceeding to gallivant around incautiously like they used to in the pre-corona era.  While scientific community has been feverishly working toward transforming this chimera into reality, the privileged populace has been preoccupied with their own woes stemming from the new corona-lifestyle.  Although these woes are generally mere inconveniences that disrupt an otherwise agreeable existence, they are weighty enough to polarize the said populace into factions.  One such ludicrous woe is related to personal grooming, particularly, hair management.

While many hair-cutting establishments are open now, you might remember the early days of corona when closed hair salons caused panic among the dapper.  Several folks began wielding the scissor & comb and honing their home barbering skills citing the example of Mahatma Gandhi who taught himself how to cut his own hair during his days in England because an English barber refused to cut his hair, and several others chose to turn into long haired barbering skeptics and began imposing on others their newfound opinion on how nonessential activities like cutting hair interfere with life's spiritual pursuits.  

Interestingly, my own haircut schedule has mirrored NE Ohio weather patterns.  If I look back on any mild weather day since April 2020, I can picture myself sitting cross legged on the deck facing a mirror, with a meandering orange extension cord behind my back, trimming away merrily with my faithful WAHL trimmer, oblivious to the cries of "Don't sprinkle hair everywhere!", "Don't come inside without dusting yourself!", "Why don't you have the broom ready?", "Why is there hair on this side of the deck when you are sitting on that side?", "Why can't you clean as you go?", "There has to be a better solution!", etc. emanating from inside the house.  As a result, ever since winter temperatures have settled in, I have been bumming around the residence with an overgrown mane and bushy sideburns threatening to reach Elvis proportions soon.  With extremely limited outside social contact though, it is hard to find motivation to remedy this Neanderthal visage.  My only motivation at this time is Mira, who got a surreptitious haircut during a naptime covert operation orchestrated by Pavana earlier this week, and is now looking all spruce and tidy.