let it grow

So there I am, out and about, doing my day-in, day-out when I meet a girl who inspires me to offer up a romantic dinner date.  (yeah, it happens sometimes)

The afternoon before the evening of the blessed event,
I happened to glance at my mug in the mirror and noticed my hair was just a bit shaggy. So I headed over to the barber shop/hair salon.
(I don't want to offend anyone's sensibilities)

What I found when I got there was that my barber/stylist
had left town!
Now, it's not unusual for anyone to pull up stakes and leave Key West without much or any notice; it happens all the time. But when it's someone you rely on for goods or services  
(like a haircut), it's a pain in the ass.

Well I didn't have a lot of time to worry about it, it was already late in the afternoon and dinner was at eight and I wasn't gonna be late. So I just showered, combed up a little differently and figured no one would be the wiser. . .

No one was, the dinner date was great and the night was
just right.

A few weeks later though, I started calling around to find a new barber/stylist. You'd think that'd be an easy thing to get done but, not so much.
Everyone I talked to either had no appointments available for 6 weeks or wanted more money than I was willing to cough up.

Meanwhile, hair growth waits for no one, things were getting a little more shaggy than I like. So I thought, what the hell, you're an artist, you've got a good pair of scissors, cut your own damned hair.

I gave it a good try but at the end of the experiment, all I succeeded in doing was making myself look like Mo Howard.

At that point, completely exasperated and with no new barber/stylist on the radar, I figured, what the hell, "you're an old hippie guitar player on the relaxed side of life. . ."

". . . Just let it grow."

photography, Richard Watherwax

hair stylist, Peter Ilacqua

thanks again for your help, gents!